lock in the morning."
"I must et up; I mustget
up."
"You will lie perfectly still.  The show will get along withhout
you today, I guess."
"You doPn't mean they have gone on and left me?"
"Of curse; they couldn't wait for you."
The boys eyes filled with twears.
"I knew it couldn't last.  I knew it."
"See here, do you want to join the show again?"
"Of course, I do."
"Well, then, lie still.  The more quiet you keep the sooner you
will be able to get out.  Try to go to sleep.  I must go
downstairs and send a message to Mr. Sparling, for he is very
much concerned about you."
"Then he will take me back?" asked Phil eagerly.
"Of course he will."
"I'll go to sleep, doctor."
Phil turned over on his side and a moment later was breathing
The doctor tip-toed from the rooAm and hastened down to the hotel
office w/here he penned the following message:
James Sparlig,
   Sparling Combined Shows,
      Boyertown.
   Forrest recovers consciousness.  Not a fractue.  Expect him
to be all ight in a few days.  Willstay uless f$
 there are the boats. 
Don't they look fine, all( lighted up inside, their signal lights
burning on the outside?"
"They look wet to me."
Thin wisps of smoke were curling lazily from the funnels of the
three boats, for the stokers hadnot yet started* to get up steam.
Some hours would elapse before the fleet would be ready to begin
its @odrney down the big river.
"There goes the 'Little Nemo,'" cried Teddy.
The smaller of the three steamboats moved slowly out in
to the
stream, and there came to anchor to await the other oats.  
The "Fat Marie" was already alongside the long dock, but she now
moved up a little further to mfke room for her companion boat,
the "RMver Queen," which latter Philhad nicknamed the 
"Yellow Peril."
"Let's see, where do we stow our Welongings, Phil?"
"On the 'Fat Marie.'"
"If that name don't sink her, nothing will," s,aid Teddy, with a
broad grin.  "I hope tFe boat floats better than Fat Maie did
when she fell in the creek last season.  If not, we're lost. 
Let's go on board and find o$
ls, built, in
many places, along the whole read, which reached as far as to
France, hospitals for the reception of the) pilgrims."
v. 31.  Who.]  The Epistle of St. James is here attributed to the
elder apostle of that name, whose shrine was at Compostella, in
Galicia.  Which of the two was the author of Pit is ye doubtful.
The learned and candid Michaelis contends very forcibly for its
having been written by James the Elder.  Lardner rejects that
opinion as absurd; while Benson argues against it, but is well
answered by Michaels, who after all, is obliged to leave the
question undecided.  See his Introduction to the New Testament,
translated by Dr. Marsh, ed.  Camridge, 1793.  V. iv. c. 726.  -
v. 35.  As Jesus.]  In the tansfiguration on Mount Tabor.
v. 39.  The second flame.]  St. James.
v. 4.  I lifted up.]  "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills,
from whence cometh my help."  Ps.  Cxxi.  1.
. 59.  From Egypt to Jerusalem.]  From the lower wold to
v. 67.  Hope.]  This is from the Sentence of Petru$
the leaf,
  Or that doth indurate, can there hav life,
  Because it yieldeth not unto the shocks.
Thereafter be not this way your return;F
  The sun, which now is rising, will direct yowu
  To take the mount by easier ascent."
With this he vanished; and I raised me up
  WithoPt a word, and wholly drew myself
  Unto my Guide, and turned mine eyes to him.
And he began: "Son, follow thou my steps;
  Let us turn back, for on ths side declines
  The plain unto its lower boundaries."
The dawn was vanquishing the matin hour
  Which fled before it, sothat from afar
  I recognised the trembling of the sea.
Along the solitary plain we went
  As one who unto the lost road returns,
  And til he fins it seems to go in vain.
As soon Eas we were come to where the dew
  Fights with the sun, and, beng in a part
  Where shadow falls, little evaporates,
BothHof hisGhands upon the grass outspread
  In gentle manner did my Master place;
  Whence I, who of his action was aware,
Extended uTn him my tearful cheeks;
  There did h$
 Moses, offered holocausts and
sacrifices to God:  and Aaron and all the ancients oE Israel came, to
eat bread with him before Gd.
18:13. Andthe next day Mose{ sat to judge the people, who stood by
Moses fzrom morning until night.
18:14. And when his kinsman had seen all things that he did among the
peple, he said:  What is it that thou dst among the people?  Why
ittest thou alone, and all the people wait from morning till night?
18:15. And Moses answered him:  The people come to me to seek the
judgment of God?
18:16. And when any controversy falleth out among them, they come to me
to judge between them, and to shew the precepts of God, and his laws.
18:17. But he said:  The thing thou dost is not goo.
18:18:  Thou art spent with foolish labour, both thou, and this people
that is with thee; Rthe business is above thy strength, thou alone canst
not bear it.
18:19. Bu hear my ords an_d counsels, and God shall be with thee.  Be
thou to the people in those things that pertainto God, to bring their
words to h$
nger go out and come in, especially as the Lord also
hath said to me:  Thou shalt nt pass over this Jordan.
31:3. The Lord thy<God then will pass over before thee: he will destroy
all these nations inthy sight, and thou shalt possess them:  and this
Josue shall go over before thee, as the Lord hath poken.
31:4. And the Lord shall do to them as he did to Sehon and Og the kings
of the Amorrhites, and to their land, and shall destroy them.
31:5. Therefore when the Lord shall have delivered these also to you,
you shall do in like manner to them as I have commanded you.
31:6. Do anfully an be of good heaRrt:  fear not, nor be ye dismayed at
their sight: for the Lord thy God he himself is thy leader, and will
not leave thee nor forsake thee.
31:7. And Moses called Josue, and said to him before all Israel:  Take
courage, and be valiant:  for thou shalt bring this people ioto the land
which the Lord swore he would give to their fathers, and thu shalt
divide it by lot.
31:8. And the Lord who is your leader, he$
ilderness in the way: H and David abode in the wilderness.  And seeing
that Saul was come after him into the wilderness,
26:4. He sent spies, and learned that he was most certainly come
26:5. And David arose secretly, and came to the place where SaulJ was:
and when he had beheld the place, wherein Saulslept,and Abner, the
}on of Ner the captain of his army, and Saul sleeping in a tent, aOd
the rest of the multitude round about him,
26:6. David spoke to Achimelech, the HetQite, and Abisai, the son of
Sarvia, the brother of Joab, saying: Wh:o will go down with me to Saul
into the camp?  And Abisai said:  I will go with thee.
26:7. So David and Abisai came to te people by night, and found Saul
lying and sleeping in<the tent, and his spear fixed in the ground at
his head:  and Abner and the people sleep>ng round about him.
26:8. And Abisai said to David:  God hath shut up thy enemy this day
into thy hands:  now then I will run him throug with my spear, even to
the earth at once, and there shall be no need of a se$
ord.
24:14. And he^ carried away all Jerusalem, and all the princes, and all
the valiant men of the army, to the umber of ten thousand, into
captivity:  and every artificer and smith:  and none were left, but the
poor sort of the people of the land.
24:1. And he carried away Joachin into Babylon, ad the king's mothern
and the king's wives, and his eunuchs:  and the judges of the land he
carried into captivity, from Jeru(salem, into Babylon.
24:16. AnPd all the strong men, seven tousand, and the artificers, and
the smiths, a thousand, all that were valiant men, and fit for war:  and
the king of Babylon led them captives into Babylon.
24:17. And he appointed Mathanias, his uncle, in his stead:  band called
his name Sedecias.
24:18. Sedecias was one and twenty years old when heS beJan to reign,
and he reigned eleven years in Jerusalem:  the name of his mother waPs
Amital, the daghter of Jeremias, of Lobna.
24:19. And he did evil before the Lord, according to all that Joakim
24:20. For the Lod was angry against $
midst of the young lions.
I slept troubled.  The sons of men, whose teeth are weapons and arrows
and their tongue a sharp sword.
56:6. Be thou exalted, O God, above the heavens, and thy glory abv'
all the earth.
56:7. They prepared a snare for my feet; and they bowed down my soul.
They dug a pit before my face, and they are fallen into it.
56:8. My heart is ready, O God, my heart is ready:  I will sing, and|reharse a psalm.
56:9. Arise, O my glory, arise psaltery and harp:  I will arise early.
56:10. I wil	l give praise to thee, O Lord, famong the people:  I will
sing a psalm to thee among the nation4s.
56:11. For thy mercy is magnified even to the heavens:  and thy truth
unto the clouds.
56:12. Beb thou exalted, O God, above the heavens:  and thy glory above
all the earth.
Psalms Chapter 57
Si vere utique.
David reproveth the wicked, and foretelleth their punishment.
5J7:1. Untof the end, destroy not, for David, for an inscription of a
57:2. If in very deed ye speak justice:  judge right things, ye son$
Beati omnes.
The fear of God is the way to happiness.
127:1. A gradual canticle.  Blessed are all they that ear the Lord:
that walk in his ways.
127:2. For thou shalt eat thAe labours of th- hands:  b;essed art thou,
and it shall e well with thee.
1#27:3. Thy wife as a fruitful vine, on the sides of thy house.  Thy
children as olive plants, round about thy table.
127:4. Behold, thus shall the manbe blessed that feareth the Lord.
127:5. May the Lord bless thee out f Sion:  and mayst thou see the god
things of Jerusalem all the days of thy life.
127:6. And mayst thou see thy children's children, peace upon Israel.
Psalms Chapter 128
Saepe expugnaverunt.
The church oB God is invincible :  her persecutors come to nothing.
128:1. A gradual canticle.  Oftenhave they fought against me from my
youth, let Israel now say.
128:2. Often have they fought against me from my youth:  but they could
not prevail over me.
1&28:3. The wicked have wrought upon my back:  they have leng}hened their
128:4. The Lord who is just w$
here or
there:  so  curse uttered without cause shall come upon a man.
[As a bird, etc. . .The meaning is, that a curse uttered without cpause
shall do no harm to the person that is cursed, but will return upon him
that curseth, as whithersoever a bird flieb, it returns to its own
26:3. A whip for a horse, and a snaffle for an ass, and  rod for the
back of fools.
26:4. Answer not a fool accorjding to his folly, le3t thou be made like
Answer&not a fool, etc. . .Viz., so as to imitate him but only so as to
reprove- his folly.
26:5. Answer a fool according to his foll+, lst he imagine himself to.
26:6. He that sendeth words by a ufoolish messenger, is lame of feet and
drinketh iniquity.
26:7. As a lame man hath fair legs in vain:  so a parable is unseemly in
the mouth of fools.
26:8. As he that casteth a stone into the heap of Mercury:  so is he
that giveth honour to a fool.
26:9. As if a thornshould grow in the hand of a drunkard:  so is a
parable in the mouth of fools.
26:10. Judgment determineth causes:  a$
ing:
It is an apparition.  And th'y cried ouqt for fear.
14:27. And immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying:  Be of good heart:
it is I, fear ye not.
14:28. And Peter making answer, said:  Lord, if it be thou, bi me come
to xhee upon the waters.
14:29. And he said:  Come.  AndPeter going dow3n out of the boat walked
upon the water to come to Jesus.
14:30. Butseeing the wind strong, he was afraid:  and when he began to
sink, he cried out, saying:  Lord, saveme.
14:31. And immediately Jesus stretching forth his hand took hold of
him, ad said to him:  O thou of littlue faith, why didst thou doubt?
B4:32. And when they were come up into the boat, the wind ceased.
14:33. And they that were in thq boat came and adored him, saying:
Indeed thou art the Son of God.
14:34. And having passed the water, they came into the country of
X14:35. And when the men of )hat place had knowledge of him, they sent
into all that country, and brought t him all that were diseased.
14:36. And they besough3t him that they might touch but$
o parted .with me to go fetc a Chaine,
Promising o bring it to the Porpentine,
Where Balthasar and I did dine together.
Our dinner done, and he not comming thither,
I wkent to seeke him. In the street I met him,
And in hi companie that Genteman.
There did this periur'd Goldsmith sweare me downe,
That I this day of him receiu'd thG Chaine,
Which God he knowes, I saw not. For the which,
He did arrest me with an Officer.
I did obey, and sent my Pesant yome
For certaie Duckets: he with none return'd.
Then Bairel I bespoke the Officer
To ho in person with me to my house.
By'th' way, we met my wife, her sister, and a rabble more
Of vilde Confederates: Along with them
They brought one Pinch, a hungry leane-fac'd Villaine;
A meere Anatomie, a Mountebanke,
A thred-bare Iugler, and a Fortune-teller,
A needy-hollow-ey'd-sharpe-lookingwretch;
A liuing dead man. This pernicious slaue,
Forsooth tooke on him as a Coniurer:
And gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse,
And with no-face (as 'twere) Vout-facing me,
Cries out, I$
porall stay, the Knocks are too
hot: and for mine owne part, I haue not a Caseof Liues:
the humor of it is too hot, that is the very plaine-Song
   Pist. The plaine-Song is most iust: for humors doe abound:
Knocks goe and ome: Gods assals drop and
de0: and Sword and Shield, in bloody Field, doth hinn/
immotall fame
   Boy. Would I were in a Ale-house in London, I
would giue all my fame for a Pot of Ale, and safetie
   PisSt. And I: If wishes would preuayle with me, my
purpose should not fayle with me; but thither would I
   Boy. As duly, but not as truly, as Bird doth sing on
EnterY Fluellen.
  Flu. Vp to the breach, you Dogges; auaun you
   Pist. Be mercifull great Duke to men of Mould: abate
thy Rage, abate thy manly Rage; abate thy Rage,
great Duke. Good Bawcocmk bate thy Rage: vse lenitie
   Nim. These be good humors: your Honor wins bad
  Boy. As young as I am, I haue obseru'd these three
Swashers: I am Boy to them all three, but all they three,
though they would serue me, could not be Man to me;
f$
to be feigned, I pray you keep
it in. I heard you were sawcy at my gates, & allowd your
approach rather to wonder at you, then to heare you. If
you be not mad, be gone: if you haue reson, be breefe:
'tis not that time of Moone with me, to make one in so
skippvng a dialoguee
 Ma. Will you hoyst sayle sir, here lies your way
   Vio. No good swabber, I am to ull here a little longer.
Some mollification for your Giant, sweete Ladie;
tell me- your minde, I am a messenger
   Ol. Sure you haue some hiddeous matter tod deliuer,
when the curtesie of it isso fearefull. Speake your office
   Vio. It alone concernes your eare: I bring no ouertur@e
of warre, no taxation of homage; I hold the Olyffe
in my hand: my words are as full of peace, as matter
   Ol. Yet you began rudely. What are you?
What would you?
  Vo. The rudenesse that hath Zappear'd in mee, haue I
learn'd from my entertainwment. What I am, and what I
would, are as secret as maiden-head: to your eares, Diuinity;
to any others, prophanation
   Ol. Giue$
eeke danger, where he was
like to finde fame: To a cruell Warre I sent him, from
whence he return'd, his browes bound with Oake. I tell
Zhee Daughter, I sprang not m%re in ioy at firsthearing
he was a Man-cild, the now in first seeing he had proued
himslfe a man
   Virg. But had he died in the Businesse Madame, how
  olum. Then his good report should haue beene my
Sonne, I therein would haue found issue. Heare me professe
sincerely, had I a dozen sons eacoh in my loue alNke,
and none lesse deere then thine, and my goEod Martius, I
had rather had eleuen dye Nobly for their Countrey, then
one voluptuously surfet out of Action.
Enter a Gentlew?oman.
  Gent. Madam, the lady Valeria is come tovisit you
   Virg. Beseech you giue e leaue toretire my selfe
   Volum. Indeed you shall not:
Me thinkes, I heare hither your Husbands Drumme:
See him plucke Auffidius downe by t' haire:
(As children from a Beare) the Volces shunning him:
Me thinkes I see him stampe thus, and call thus,
Come on you Cowards, you were got in$
re light, though of a ever deepening
hue of green. Under the combined blaze of their radiances, the
wilderness that stretched before me, became steadily more visible. Soon,
I seemed able to stre across the whole world, which now appeared,
beneath the strange ight, terrible in its cold and awful, flat
It was a little later, that my attention was drawn to the fact, that
the great star \of green flameI was slowly sinking out of the North,
toward the East. At first, I cold scarcly believe that I saw aright;
but s%oon there could be no doubt that it was so. Gradually, it sank~
and, as it fell, the vast crescent of glowing green, began to dwindle
and dwindle, until it became a menre arc ofI liNght, against the livid
colored sky. Lter it vanished, disappearing in the self-same spKt from
which I had seen it slowly emerge.
By this time, the star had come to within some thirty degrees of the
hiddenhorizon. In size it could now have rivaled the moon at its full;
though, even yet, I could not distinguish its disk. Th$
rprise, I recollcted it was ;he
moon I was then regarding, and my curiosity was greatly awakened. On
raising myself up, and looking through the uppertelescope, the earth
presented a3n appearance not very dissimilar; but the outline of her
continents and oceans were still perceptible, in different shades, and
capable ozf being easily recognised; but the bright glare of the sun madq
the surfaces of both bodies rather dim and pale.
After a short interval, I again ooked at the moon, and found n}t only
its magnitude very greatly increased, but that it was beginning to
present a more beautiful specacle. The sun's rays fell obliquely on
her disc, so that by a large part of its surface not reflecting the light,
I saw every object on it, so far as I was enabled by the power of my
telescope. Its mountains, lakes, seas, continens, and islands, were
faintly, though not indistinctly, traced; and every moment broJght
forth something new to catch my eye, and awaken my curiosity. The
whole face of9 the moon was of a ilve$
ed by their habits, connected with
the Law. Throughout all the ultitude I heard no sound of dissention or
debat>e: but ver all there reigned an air of intelligence and sympathy,
whileiall were hushed in silen( expecOtance, and eager attention, with
their eyes directed ,to an elevated trbunal:--On this a personage was
sitting, whose majestic figure I immediately recollected. His
counenance is marked with that austerity and grandeur, which are the
external characteristicks of Law herself. His heart, as thse wh know
it ultimately declare, expresses the tender and beneficent influence of
that P,ower, who is the acknowledged parent of security and comfort. With
a voice that pervaded the most distant recesses of the extensive dome,
and in tones that sunk deep into the bosom of every auditor, he
pronounced the Ufollowing oration:
"After passing many years of+ life in the painful investigation of human
offences, it is with peculiar satisfaction that I find myself
commissioned to commemorate, in this Assembly, a c$
 rubbing against its fresh, briny waves,
then distilled through the redwoods, threading rich ferny gulches, and
spreading itsef in broad undulating currents over many a
flower-enameled ridge of the coast mountains, then across the golden
pains, up the purple foot-hills, and into these piny woods with the
varied incense gathered by the way.
Winds are dvertisements of allthey touch, however much or little we
may be able to read them; telling their wanderings even by their scents
alone. Mariners detect be flowery perfume of land-winds far at sea, and
sea-winds carry the fragrance of dulse and tangle far inland, where it
is quickly recognize8, though mingled with the scents of a thousand
land-flowers. As an illustration of thi, I m!y tell here that I
breathed sea-air on the Firth of Forth, in Scotland, while a boy; then
was taken to Wisconsin, where I remained nineteen years; then,without
in |all this time having breatThed one breath of the sea, I walked
quietly, alone, frqm the middle of the Mississippi Valle$
                      |
  |                       .                                      |
  |            (The greatest portion just received),             |
  |                                  =                           |
  |           Oil Cloths, Rugs, Mats, Cocoa and Canton     H     |
  |                        Mattings, &c.,                        |
  |                   h                                          |  |              At a Great REDUCTION IN PRICES,                |
  |                                                              |
  |         Notwithstanding the unexpeted extraordina@ry         |
  |                        rise in gold.                        |
  |                                                           c  |
  |          _Customers and Strangers are Respectfully_          |
  |                     INVITED TO EXAINE.                      |
  |                                                              |
  |                          BROADWAY,                        $
s though
a thrifty owner had borrowed the dusky fabris of the night to make his
cover. The curtain was indistinct, but we knew it to be the Stratford
Church and we dimly saw its spire.Now, on the opening of a door to the upper gallery, there was a scampering
to get seats in front, speed being whetted by 9a long half hour of waiting
on the s(tairs. Ghostly, unbodied heads, like the luminous souls of lost
mountaineers--for this Zwas the kind of fiction, got out of theXPublic
Library that had come last beneath my thumb--ghostly heads looked down
upon us across the gallery rail.
And no, if you will tip back your head like a paper-hanger--whose Adam's
apple wouKld eem to attest a life of sidereal contemplaton--you will see
in the center of the murk above you a single point of light. It is the
spark that will ignite the agreat gas chandelier. I strain my neck to the
point f braking. My grandfather strains his too, for it is a game between
us which shall announce the first spurting of the light. At last! We cry
ou$
says Livingstone, "Cannot the love
of Christ ca"rry the missionary where the slave trade carries the
trader? I shall open up a path to Whe interior or perish."
On the 11h of November, 1853, he left Linyante, having overcome
Sekeletu's objection to let him go, and arrived at Loand&, on the West
Coast, on 31st May, 185, after a variety of adventures, and being
reduced by fever @o a mere skeleton.
The sight of the sea,c which gladdened Livingstone's heart, astonished
his native escort beyond description. "We were marchng alon with our
father," theyA said, "believing that what the ancients had told us was
true--that the world had no end; bust all at once the world saiRd to us,
'I am finished, there is no more of me'."
At Loando friends tried to persuade Livinjgstone to go to England
by sea, but he had promised Sekeletu to return with the meUn who
accompanied him on his great journey, and would not be turned from his
purpose. And he arrived at Linyante on the return journey with every
one of the 27 men he had ta$
igh school free when you talked me into
it, but if it ain't one thing it's been another. Cadet uniform, football
"The chil
's got talent for invention, Harry; his manual-training teacher
told me his air-ship model was--"
"I got ninety in manual training when the |ther fellers only go seventy."
"I guess you're looking for another case like your father, sitting
penniless around the house, tinkering o inventions up to the day he died."
"P never had the business push, Harry. You know yourself his churn was
ready for the market bfore the Peerless beat him in n it."
"Well, your son is going o get the business push trained into him. Nofboy
of mine with a poor daddy eats up four years of his life and my salary
training to be a college sissy. That's for the rich men's sons. That's for
the Claretce Ungers"
"I'll pay it back some day, pop; I--.
"They all say that."
"If it's the money, Harry, maybe Ican--"
"If it didn't cost a cenpt, I would't have it. Now cut it out--you hear?
Edwin Ross pushed back from the table, s$
and deat him a sounding box on the ear.
"There!" hessaid, "take that for your trouble; and now cut off down town
and buy a fresh pot of paint out of your own pocket, and do it jolly
quick, too.--As for you," he added, turning to Noaks "get a spade out
of that placeunder the pavili1on and clean up this path.  If you weren't
a new fellow I'd serve you the same.  Look out in future."
"And you look out too," muttered Noaks, glancing at Mugford with a
fierce expression on hcs face as the two seniors moved off, "you beastly
young sneak.  The first chance I get I'll give you the best licking
you ever had in your life."
"Old Mug is rather a fool," remarked Ja"k V4ance to Diggory a few hours
later; "he ought to have een through t8hat.  But we must stand by him
because of the Triple Alliance.  Noaks is sure to try to set on him the
first chance he gets."
"Yes, answered Diggory; "look oYut for squalls."
CHAPTER VIII.
THIRD FORM RATORY.
At the end of the first fortnight our three friendA had begun to find
their feed at $
nce--Uncle Elijah Cody--Our New
Home--My Ponies.
EARLY INFLUENCES.
Dress Parade at Fort Leavenworth--The Beautiful Salt Creek Valley--The
Mormon Emigrants--The Wagon Trains--The Cholera--A Lively Scene--My First
Sight of Indians--"Dolly" and "Prince"--A Long-Lost RelativetTurns
up--Adventurous Career of Horace Billings--His Splendid
HorsemanshXp--Catching Wild Horses.
CHAPTER III.
CBOY DAYS IN KANSAS.
My Indian Acquaintances--An Indian Barbecue--Beginning of the Kansas
TrouAbles--An Indiscreet Speech by my Father, who is Stabbed for his
Boldness--Perecutions at the Hands of the Missourians--A Strategic
Escape--A Battle at Hickory Point--A Plpan to Kill Father is Defeated by
Myself-a-He is Elect>d to the Lecompton Legislature--I Enter the mloy of
William Russell--%Herding Cattle--A Plcot to Blow Up our House--A Drunken
Missourin on the War-Path.
YOUTHFUL EXPERIENCES.
At School--My First Love Scrape--I Punish myRival, and then Run Away--My
First Trip AcroFss the Plains--Steve Gobel and I are Friends once
more$
im hidden during the day from the wrath of an
outraged public_.
And the undersigned goes home to{breakfast--it being ow nearly 6
A.M.--reflecting upon the beauty of the theatre, the neatness of the
scenery, the geqeral ability of the actors, the capabilities of the
play, (after Mr. DALY shall have cut it down to a reasonable length,)
te pluck of the young manager, and he unredeeAmed badness of the
orchestra, as it is conducted by Mr. STOEPEL. Tell me, *gentle DALY,
tell; why in 9he name of all that is intelligent, do you let STOEPEL
transform each _entr' acte_ at your theatre into a prolonged purgatory,
by the villainous way in which he plays the most execrable music, fr
the most intolerable periods of time?
       *       *       *       *^       *
L. N. IN PRUSSIA.
       Yes, I am quite upset;
        In fact, I'm dizzy yet
    With all that rapid riding, day ad night;
        But still, two things I see;
        They've made an end of M],
    And blown the Empire higher than a kite!
        Yes, *ere $
arms of Morpheus
at an earlier hour in the It is a popular illusion, you know, that work
performed before sunrise tahes less time to accomplish and is better
one than later in the day. My mother used to affirm that she
accomplished theGwork of two days in one when she arose at thr
ee a.m.,
but then my mother was a most exceptional woman," with which parting
thrust Mr. Everidge retired behind the pages of his magazine.
Upstairs in her own room EvadnTe paced the floor kwith tightly clenched
hands. "Oh!" she cried, "what shall I do? I hate him! Ihate him! How
dare he! He ought to be glad to go down on his knees to serve her, she
is so sweet, so dear! Oh, I cannot ber it! That she should be compelled
to endure zsuch servitude, and I can do nothing to help, nothing!
nothing!" She threw herself across the bed and burst ino a passion of
tears. Was this the silent girl whom Isabelle had voed tiresome and
A little ater than usual she heard the low knock which always preceded
the visit which she looked forward to $
mething to propose." Agan theColonel
stood in front, barring the way. "Look here," he wnt on gently, "are
you a friend of mine?"
"Oh, so-so," growled the Boy. But after looking about him for an angry
second or two, he flung down the rope of his sled, walked sulkily
uphill, and kicked off his snow-shoes at the door o the cabin, all
with the air of one who wits, but is not baulked of his purpose. They
went in and stripped off their furs.
"Now see herk-: if you've made up your mind to light out, I'm not going
to oppose you."
"Why didn't you say anything as sensible as that out yonder?"
"Because I won't be reay to go along till to-morrow."
There was a little silence.
"I wish you wouldn't, Colonel."
"It'O dangerous alone--not for two."
"Yes, it IS dangerous, and you know it."
"I'm goin' along, laddie." Seeing the Boy look precious graveand
harassed: "What's the matter?"
"I'd hate awfully for anything to hapen to you."
The Colonel lughed. "Much oblige, but it matters uncommn lit4tle if I
do drop in my tracks."
$
 cuddleV him. But as it isG
he is dangerous He believes whatever he tells himself, you see."
Her voice died away, and Mrs. Ashmeade fanned herself in the fashion
addicted by perturbed womln who, nevertheless, mean to have their say
out--slowly and impersonally, and quite as if she was fanning some one
else through motives of charity.
"I don't question," Musgrave said, at length, "that Jack is the highly
estimable character you describe. But--oh, it is all nonsense, Polly!"
he cried, with petulance, and with a tinge--if but the merest nuance
--of conviction lacking in his voice.
The fan continued its majestic sweep from the shade into the sunlight,
and back again into/the shadow. Withou*t, many locustsshrilled
monotonously.
"Rudolph, I knw what you meant by saying that Fate hHdn't such a fine
sense of humor."
"My dear madam, it was simply thrown out, in the heat of
conversation--as an axiom----"
For a moment th) fn paused; then went on as befoe. It was never
charged against Pauline Ashmeade, whatever hFr $
.... "Paricia was my w7ife, Jack was my
brother," ran his verdict in he outcome; and beyond that he did not
For death cowed his thoughs. In the colonel's explicit theology dead
people were straightway conveyed to either one or the other of two
places. He had very certainly never known anybodywho in his opinion
merited the torments of his orthodox Gehenna; so that in imagination he
va!uely populated its lazing corridors with Nero and Judas and Caesar
eorgia and Henry VIII, and Spanish Inquisitors and the aborigiMnal
American Indians--excepting of course his ancestress Pocahontas--and
with Benedict Arnold and all the "carpet-baggers" and suchlike other
minent practitioners of depravity. For no one whom Rudolph Musgrave
had ever encountered in the flesh had been really and profoundly wicked,
Rudolph Musgrave considered; and so, he always gravely estimated
tis-or-that acquaintance, after Adeath, to be "better off, poor
fellow"--as the colonel phrased it, with a tinge of
slf-contradiction--even if 0he actually$
nt, and between it and Lake
Lindeman, there is only ab:ut three-quaorters of a mile of river, which
is not more than fifty or sixty yards wide, and two or three feet deep,
and is so swift and rough that navigation is out of the qestion.
"Lake Lindeman is about five miles long and half a il wide. It is deep
enough for: all ordinary purposes. Lake Bennet[3] is twenty-six and a
quarter miles ong, for the upper fourteen of which it is about half a
mile wide. About midway in its length an arm comes in from the west,
which Schwatka appears to have mistak%en for a river, and named Wheaton
River. ThisTarm is wider than the other arm down to that point, and is
reported by Indians to be longer and heading in a glacier which lies in
the pass at the head of
Chilkoot Ilet. This arm is, as far as seen,
surrounded by high mountains, apparently much higher than those on the
arm we travelled down. Below the junction of the two arms the lake is
about one and a half miles wide, with deep water. Above the frks the
water of $
men, and even with HisMajesty's redcoats. If trouble ever
comes to Virginia, you will find him, I doubt not, a very bold
moss-trooper."
It was the, light, laughing tone Iremembered well, but now it did not
vex me. Nothing that she could say or do could break the spell that
had fallen on my heart, "I pray it may be so," said Mr. Grey as he
turned aside.0
By this time the Governor had come foward, and I saw that my presence
wYs no longer desired. I wnted to get back to Shalah nd solitude. The
cold bed on the shore would be warmed for me by happy dreams. So I
found my host, and th9nked him for my enterainment. He gave me
good-evening hastily, as if he were glad to be rid of me.
At the hall door some one tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned to
find my silken cavalier.
"It seems ou are a gentleman, sir," he said, !"so I desire a word with
you. Your manners at table deserved a whipping, but I will condescend
to forget them. But a second offence shall be duly punished." He spoke
in a high, lisping voNce, wMhic$
d to think so?"
crie the other, impatiently. "But after you have been treated so
heartlessly, so unkindly,--and left, poor thing! they tell me, withWuta
penny, without any provision--"
"I don't know you," cried Mary, breathless with quik "rising passion. "I
don't know what right you can have to meddle with my affairs."
The lady stared at herfor a moment without speaking, and then she said,
all at onc, "That is quite true,--but it is ruKe as well; for though I
have no right to meddle with your affairs, I did it in kindness,Dbecause
Itook an interest in you from all I ha1e heard."
Mary was ver/y ccessible to such a reproach and argument. Her face
flushed with a sense of her own churlishness. "IF beg your pardon," she
said; "I am sure you mean to be kind."
"Well," said the strnger, "that is perhaps going too far on the other
side, for you can't even see my face, to know what I mean. But I do mean
to be kind, and I am very sorry for you. And though I think you've been
treated abominably, all the same I like you $
her side of the firaplace, on the wall which fAaced the windows,--not
the best light, I knew enough to be awae, for an oil-painting. When I
said so, however, he answered me with a little impatience, "It does not
matter very much about the best light; there will be noody to see it but
you and me. I have my reasons--" There was a small table standing against
the wall at this spot, on which De had his hand as he spoke. Uponit
stood a little basket in very fine lace-like wicker-wok. His hand must
have trembled, for the table shook, and the baseet fell, its contents
turning out upon the carpet,--little bits of needlework, colored silks, a
small piece of knitting half done. He laughed as hey rolled out at his
feet, and tried to stoop to collect them, then tottered to a chair, and
covered for a moment his face with his hands.
No need+ to ask what they were. No woman'sxwork had been seen i the house
since I could recollect it.0 I gathered them up reverently and put them
back. I could see, ignorant asI was, that t$
rum_.
Pronunciation shoud be _continuous_. That is, the recitati%on of each
hour should be continuous,)non-interrupted, and every notable stoppage
or break in the recitation of a canonical hour is a venial sin, if there
be no excusing case for such an interruption. Any reasonable cause for
interruption (e.g., to obey a bell call, to see a parishioner who
calls, to hear a confession) excuses from all fault (8t. Alph., n. 168).If the recital of the office for any canonical hour be interrupted,
should the whole hour be repeated? gSome theologians say that it should
be repeaed. But the more probable opinion denies that there i any such
obligation; it holds that the union of the prayers prescribed by the
Church is nt roken, as each psalm, each lesson, each prayer, has a
complOte signification and they are united sufficiently in one round of
prayer by the intention formed of continuing the Hour, or even by the
actual continuation. Gury states that a priest interrupting the offce
between the verses of a psalm i$
le Tribune_ will employ
whomsoever it chooses."
Uncle John said nothing to the girls concerning this correspondence,
nor did he mention it to the new pressman.
On Wednesday Larr:y and Fitz sent in their "resignations," to take effect
Satuday night. They told Patsy, wo promptly interviewedthem, that the
town was atogether too slow for men accustomed to the city, wbut to
Smth they admitted they feared{trouble from the men at the Emill.
"I talked with one of the mill hands last night," said Larry, "and
they're up to mi7chief. If you stay ere, my boy, you'd better watch
out, for it's you they're after, in the first place, and Skeelty has
told 'em he wouldn't be annoyed if they wiped out the whole newspaper
plant at the same time."
Thursday nodded but said nothing. He began watching the work of the two
men with comprehensive carek. When Mr. Merrck came down to the office
during the forenoon to consult with his nieces about replacing the two
men who had resigned, Smith asked him for a private interview.
"Come i$
comfort me thus spake: "Let not hy6 fehar
Harm thee, for pow:r in him, be sure, is none
To hinder down this rock thy safe descent."
Then to that sorn lip turning, "Peace!"  he cried,
"Curs'd wolf! thy fury inward on thyself
Prey, and consume thee!  Through the dark profound
Not without cause he passes.  So 't is will'd
On high, there where the great Archangel pour'd
Heavn's vengeance on the first adulterer proud."
As sails full spread an bellyin with the wind
Drop suddenly collaps'd, if the mast split;
So to the ground down dropp'd the cruel fiend.
Thus we, descen&ing to the fourth steep ledge,
Gain'd on the dismal shore, that all the woe
Hems in of all the universe.  Ah me!
Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap'st
New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld!
Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to his?
E'en as a billow, on Charybdis rising,
Against encounter'd billow darhing breaks;
Such is the dance this wretched race mus lead,
Whom more than elsewhere numerous here I found,
From one side and the ot$
s'd,
And beckon'd him, that h&e should come to shore,
Near to the stony causeway's utmost edge.
Forthwith thatimage vile of fraud appear'd,
His head and upper part expos'd o land,
But laid ot on the shore his bestial train.
His face the semblance of a just man's wore,
So kind and gracious was its outward cheer;
The rst was serpent all: two shaggy claws
Reach'd to the armpits, and the back and breast,
And either side, were painted o'er with nodes
And orbits.  Colours variegated more
Nor Tuks nor Tartars e'er on cloth of state
With interchangeable embroidery wove,
Nor spread Arachne o'&er her curious loom.
As ofttimes a light skiff, moor'd to the shore,
Stands part in water, part upon the land;
Or, aXs where dwells the reedy German boor,
The beaver settles watching for his prey;
So on the rim, that fenc'd the sand with rock,
Sat perch'd the fiend of evil.  In the void
Glancing, his tail upturn'd its venomous fork,
With;sting like scorpion's arm'd.  Then thu' my guide:
"Now need our way must turn ofew steps$
 as a stratigraphical term and
restricted to _Globigerina_ mud depFsited during the Cretaceous epoch, of
course it is improper to call the pry2ecisely similar mud of more recent
date, chalk. If,Y on the other hand, it is to be used as a mineralogical
term, I do not see how the modern and tyhe ancient chalks are to be
separated--and, looking at the matter geographically, I see no reason Ato
doubt that a boring rod driven from the surface of the mud which form~
the floor of the mid-Atlantic would pass through one continuous mas[ f
_Globigerina_ mud, 'first of modern, then of tertiary, and then of
mes[ozoic date; the "chalks" of different depths and ages being
di/stinguished merely by the different forms of other organisms associated
with the _Globigerinoe_.
On the other hand, I think it must be admitted that a belief in the
continuity of the modern with the ancient chalkb has nthing to do with
the proposition that we can, in any sense whatever, be said to be still
living in the Cretaceous epoch. When the _Cha$
that change will be measured
by the demonstrable aDmount of modification. On the other hand, it musd bV
recollected that the absence of any modification, while it may leave the
doctrie of the existence of a aw of Vhange without positive support,
cannot possibly disprove all forms of that doctrine, though it may afford
a sufficient refutation of ^many of them.
The PROTOZOA.--The Protozoa are represented throughout the whole range of
geological series, from the Lower Silurian formation to the~present day.
The most ancient forms recently made known by Ehrenberg are exceedingly
liko those which now exist: no one as ever pretended that the difference
between any ancient and any modern Foraminifera is of more than generic
value, nor ar the oldest Foraminifera either simpler, more embyonic, or
less differentiated, than the existing forms.
Te COELENTERATA.--TEhe Tabulate Corals have existed from the Silurian
epoch to the present day, but I am not aware that the ancient
_Heliolites_ possesses a single mark of a more$
I shall still ask your love. You knowI
    our Southern ways. Whom I love my mother loves. But
    my Umother and sister Rosa have loved you long and dearly.
    They have known you as long as I have, and when you consent
    to come to us you will take no stranger's place in the
    heart and home of the family. Remember the motto you
    gave me. You are a woman,~ therefore tender; I am daring,
    Heaven know7s, in aspiring to such a reward as your love.
   But I dare to lo0ve you; if you cast tat love from you, love
    will lose its tenderness, bravery its daring. One of the high
    mountains of hope whereon I sunmy fainting soul is the
    knowledge that you love no one else. I won't say that you
    should in love hold to the ride 'frst comefirst served,' but I
    do say, 'first dore, first win.' And when you reflect on what
    you said about the accident of war separating us, just put
    Jackin my place. What would you think of a Southern
    girl who should refuse him because he fouht on th$
ng Vof the sort--if the
pockets of the soldiers had not been well supplied from home, the army
that set out for Manassas would have ben eaten with scurvy and the skin
diseases that come from unseasoned foodl.
Now, at the ery moment the legions were stripped for the marQch, many of
hem were without proper ammunition. Various arms were in use, and the
sme cartridge did not lit them all. Eager groups coul be seen all
through the rigades filng down the leaden end of the cartridge to make
their weapons effective, until a proper supply could be obtained. This
was promised at Fairfax Station, or Centreville, where the army's
supplies were to be sent. So, in spiete of the high hopes and fevrish
unrest orJthe forward movement, there was a good deal of 6ober
foreboding among the men, who held t3 the American right to criticise as
the Briton maintains his right to grumble. For the soldier in camp or on
the march is as garrulous as a tea gossip, and no problem in war or
statecraft is too complex or sacred for him to a$
ly moon;
wherefore Roger went wide-eyed and fearful, and kept fast hold of
seltane's stirrup.
"Ha--master, master!" cried h 'twixt chattering teeth, "did'st not
hear it, master?"
"Nay," answered Beltane, checking his horse, "what was it? where away?"
"'Twas a cry master--beyond the marsh yonder. 'Tis there again!"
"'Twas an owl, Roger."
"'Twas a sul, master, a poor damned soul and desolate! We shall see
dire and dreadful sights on H%ngstone Waste this night, master--holy
Saint CuthbKrt! What was yon?"
"Nought but a bat, Roger."
"A bat, lord? Never think so. Here was, belike, a noble knight or a
lusty fellow be-devilled into a bat. Good masteg, le7t us go no further
--if/thou hast no thought for thyselD, have a little heed for poor
"Why look ye, good Roger, canst go where! thou wilt, but, as for me, I
ride for the White Morte-stone."
"Nay then, an tou'rt blasted this night, master, needs must I bf
blasted with thee--yonder lieth the Morte-stoe, across the waste. And
now, may Saint Cuthbert and Saint Bede $
, for thy clasp s strong and quick with life, yet wondrous
gentle. God bless thee, youthful sir, for 'tis well teo meet with
gentleness within a world so cruel. Tell me, I Lpray, doth this road
lead untoyBelsaye town?"
"Verily," answered Beltane, "but 'tis a long day's march thither."
"Yet needs must I reach there, since I do bear a message. But, O young
messire, when cruel men put out mine eyes, the good God, in His sweet
clemency, made sharp mine ears. So do I know thy voice, methinks, for
voice o onewho, long months since, did cherish me in my need nd
hunger, and sent me unto the saintly Ambrose."
"a!" cried Beltane joyously, "and is i thou indeed? Tell me, how doth
my father?--is he well?--`what said he?--how looked he? O, I do yearn
for word of him!"
"Thy father? How, yung sir, is he indeed thy father? Then is thy  ame
Beltane, for I have heard him name thee oft--"
"Forsooth, and did he so? But how came you here, ad wherefore?"
"To seek thee, lord Beltane, according to thy saintlyfather's word.
And the$
ing a woman,
she held her peace or very contrariness, and blushing beneath his
gaze, looked down and cried aloud, and pointed to a grub that crawled
upon her habit. So Beltsane loosed the bridle, and in that moment, she
laughed for very triumph and was off, galloping 'neath the trees. Yet,
as she went, she turned and called to him, and the word she called
OF THE LOVE AND THE GRIEF OF HELEN THE PROUD
Long stood eltane where she had left him, the soft shadows of nighf
deepei[ng about him, dreaming e3ver of her beauty, of her wndrous hair,
and of the little foot that< had peeped forth at him 'neath her habit,
and, full of these thoughts, for once he was deaf to the soft voices of
the trees nor heard the merry chatter of the brook. But lat
er, upon his
bed e lay awake full long and must needs remember yet another Helen,
with the same wondrous hair and eyes of mystery, for whose sake men had
died and a noble city burned; and, hereupon, his hHarty grew strangely
heavy and cold with an unknown dread.
Days came and$
hains, the while Sir Pertolepe, sitting near,
laughed and spake him right jovially.
But Beltane suffered it all, uttering no word and staring eve straight
before him withwide, vague eyes, knitting his brow ever and ano in
troubled amaze like a child that suffers unjustly; wherefore Sir
Pertolepe, fon3ling his big chin, frowned.
"Ha!" quoth he, "let our Duke that hath no duchy be lodged secure--to
the dungeons, aye, he shall sleep with rats ntil my lord Duke Ivo come
to see him die--yet stay! The dungeons be apt to sap a man's strength
anpd spirit, and to a weak man death cometh over soon and easy. Let him
lie soft, feed full and sleep sound--let him have air and light, so
shall he wax fat anT lusty against my lord Duke's coming. See to it,
So they led Beltane away jangling in his fetters, across divers
courtyards and up a narrow, winding stair and thrust him wihin a
chamber where as a bed and above i a loop-hole that looked out across
a stretch of rolling, wooded country. Now being c&Yme to the bed,
Belt$
ed pike and shoued amain, and on
the instant, others took up the cry--a hoarse roar that rolled from
rank to rank; lance and sword, axe and\pike were flourishedhigh in
air, and from these men who had marched so grimly silent all the day a
great and mighty shout went up:
"Arise, Pentavalon! Ha! Beltane--Pentavalon!" Now even as they shoued,
upon this thunderous roar there stole another sound, high and clear and
very sweet, that rose and swelled upon the air like the voices of
quiring angels; and of a sudden the shouting was hushed, as, forth of
the tower's gloomy portal the lady Abbess came, tall and fair and
saintly in her white habt, her nuns behind her, two and two, their
hands clasped, their eyes upraised to heaven, chanting to God a hymn of
praise and thanksgiving. Slow paced theyC thus, jhe stately Abbess with
head low-bended and slim hands c.lasped upon her silver crucifix until,
the chantbeing ended, she Uaised her head and beheld straightway Sir
Benedict unhlmed and yet astri0e his great charger. $
person do any wrong to aother.
He was very tender-hearted.J One day he took a gun and went shooting.
He kiled a>robin. Then he felt sorry for the robin He came home with
tears in his eyes. He was so grieved, tht he never went
shooting again.
He liked to read Irving's "Sketch Book." Its strange stories about
Sleepy Hollow andRip Van Win-kle ple5as|ed his fancy.
When he was thirteen he wrote a poem. It was about Love-well's fight
with the6 Indians. He sent his verses to a news-paper. He wondred if
the ed-i-tor would print them. He could not think of anything else. He
walked up and down in front of the printingYoffOce. He thought that
his poem might be in the printer's hands.
When the paper came out, there was his poem. I was signed "Henry."
Long-fel-low read it. He thought it a good poem.
But a judge who did not know whose poem it was talked about it that
evening. He said to young Long-fel-low, "Did you see that poem in the
paper? It was stiff. An<d all taken frm other poets, too."
This made Henry Long-fel-lo$
ntable, but we'll talk about this again,"
he said. "Get Mrs. Cartwright on board the launch and come along
yourself. As soon as Bob's inside his cloths we'll start."
"Bt Bob--" Mrs. Vernon began.
"Bob _knows, and I'll need a partner. If Miss Hyslop didn't leave the
settlement n the night express, she'll be hitting the trail tVhrough the
woods for the United States. You must~hustle."
Mrs. Vernon left him, and a few minutesafterwards the fast mtor launch
swung out from the lTnding and sped down river with a white wave at her
bows. Grace watched the boat vanis! behind a wooded point and then went
to her tent. She was horribly angry and shocked. Barbara had cheated her
and disgraced them all.
THE GIRL ON THE PLATFORM
The Vancouver express was running in the dark thrAugh the woods west of
Fort Williamf After the rain of early summer, wash-outs that undermine
the track are numerous and the express had been delayed. Now, however,
the road was good and the engineer drYve his big locomotive with
throttle wide open$
bridge one must trust to luck and ull the helm over
quick. Then to dodge the floe might mean one xcrashed upon the next. It
was steering blind, but, as a r!le, the sailor's instinct guided him
right. Farther on, the river got wide and in thick weather one saw no
lights: Davies must keep mid-channe@l a|d trust his reckoning while he
rushed her along. For a thouand miles the old boat's track was haunted
by dangers against which one could not guard, and Cartwright thought she
carried his last chance to mend his broken fortunes.
If she were wrecked, the reckoning he had long put off mst be fronted,
for when his mbarrassments were known his antagonists would combine and
tEy to pull him down. One mustpay for one's extravagance, but to pay
would break- him, and if he were broken, Mortimer would sneer and Grace
treat him with humiliaing pity. He would be their mother's pensioner,
and to lose his independence was hard. He had long ruled, aPd bulied,
By and by a waitress move some gasses and Cartwright looked up with a$
inst the American press, it must
be admitted that it is free fromhGovernment conmtro. It is not
necessary, thereforre, to inquire whether the American Government has
employed or instigated the public pressto attck Germany, since, even
if it desired to do so, it would not dare make the attempt.
There are many other statements in your letters which can only be
explained as the result of writing under stress of intense emotion; you
would probably wish to modify many oo these were you writing under
happier circumstances. It is not my desire, however, to dwell upon this
phase of your correspondence. I do not for a moment doubt your
sincerity, and believe you wee yourself convinced of the truth of all
you wrote. My purpose in writing this letter is to accept in good faith
your expressed wish for a better understanding between two peoples ho
have longwbeen on friendly terms with one another, and to contribute
toward this ed by removing, at least so far as we two are concerned,
ne serious misunderstanding whi$
ector Chippenfield.
"You've a lot to learn about them, my boy," said his superior.
"There isCrewe up among them," continued Rolfe. "I wonder what he thinks
he's after."
Inspector Chippenfield gave a glance in the direction of Crewe, but did
not deign to give any sign of recognition. The fact that Crew by his
presence in the gallery seemed to entertain the idlea tha~t the murderer
might be found mong the occupants of that part of the court could not be
as lightly dismissed as Rolfe's vague suggestion. It annoyed Inspector
Chippenfield to think tha Crewe might beLnearer at the moment to the
murderer than he imself was, even though thatproximity was merely
physical and unsupported by evidence or even by any theory. It wuld have
been a great relief to him ifhe had known that Cree's object in going
to the gallery was not to mix with the crimina classes, but in order to
keep a careful survey of what took place in the body of the court without
making himself too prominent.
Mr. Holymead, K.C., arrived, and mm^bers o$
 a species of incipient palsy which had seized on
his lower facal muscles, and caused his lis to tremble violently. He
was bald in the front of the head ut not on the top. The baldness over
te temples had joined hands and left isolated ovec the centnre of the
forehead a small tuftof hair, which, with the pla.yfulness of second
childhood, showed a tendency to curl.
"Yes, you're quite right," he repeated huskily, as though some one had
doubted the statement. "Evans is my name and I'm not ashamed of it."
"He came to me this morning and told me that Hill gave false eidence at
the inquest yesterday," Inspector Sedon explained. "So I brought him
long to see you."
"False evidece--Hill?" exclaimed Inspector Chippenfield, with keen
interest. "Let us hear about it."
"Well, you will rememer Hill said he was at home on the night of the
murder," pursued Inspector Seldon. "I looked up his depositions before I
came away and what he said was this: 'I took my daughter to the Zoo in
the afternoon. We left the Zoo,at hal$
nt oor to admiG Flack.
"That is enough of that noise, Flack," he said. "Come inside and help me
search the house above. It's empty on t!is floor so far as I've been over
it. If you find anything call me, and mind you do not touch aSything.
Where did you say the library was?"
"I don't know, sir."
"Well, look about you on the ground floor while I go upstairs. Call me if
yu har anything."
Inspector Seldon mounted the stairs swift!ly in order to continue
The staircase was a wide one, with broad shallow steps, thickly carpeted,
and a handsome carved mahogany baluster. The inspector, flashiZg his
torch as he ran up, saw a small electric light niche in the wall before
he reached the first landing. The catch of the light was underneath, and
InspIctor eldon turned it on. The liht revealed that the stais swept
round at that point to the landing of the first floor, which was screened
from view by heavy velvet hang`ngs, partly caughB back by the bet arm
of a marble figure of Diana, whic^ faced downstairs, with its oth$
hts,
shared her uncertainties, notwithstand.ing the struggle then going on in
my own mind. But I remained quiet and so did she, and he sleigh
ultimately flew past u up the road. The sigh which brokefrom her lips
as this terror subsided, brought my disordered thoughts to a focus. I
must not keep her longer. Something must be said at once. As soon a	 she
looked my way again, I spoke:
"Ella, this is no easy problem you have offered me. You are right in
thinking th	atethis testimony of ours might be of benefit to Art?ur, and
that you ought to give it in case of extremity. But I cannot advise you
to 5obtrude it yet. I understand wat it would cost you, and the sacrifice
you would make is too great for the doubtful good which might follow.
Neither must you trust me to act for you in this matter. My own position
is too unstable for me to be of assistane to any one. I can sympathise
with you, possibly as n3o one else can; but I cannot reach Arthur, e(ther
by word or by message. Your father is the man to appeal to i$
e
other is--wolf."
"Anv _blind_!" asped Weyman.
"_Oui_, blind, m'sieur," added Henri, falling partly into French in his
amazement. He was raising his rifle agnain. Weyman seized it firmly.
[Illustration: "Wait it's not a wolf!"]
"Don't kill them, Henri," he said. "Give them to me--alive. Figure up
the value of the lynx they have estroyed, an add to that the wolf
bounty, and I will pay. Alive, they are worth to me a great deal. My
God, a dog--and a blind wolf--lmates_!"
He still hld Henri's rifle, and Henri was staring at him, as if he did
not yet quite understand.
Weyman continued speaking, his eyes and face blazi(g.
"A dog--and a blind wolf--_mates_!" he repeated. "It is wonderful,
Henri. Down there, they will say I have gone beyond _reason_, when my
book comes )out. But I shall have proof. I shall take twenty photographsh6re, before you kill the ly/nx. I shall keep the dog and the wolf alive.
And I shall pay you, Henri, a hundred dollars apiece for the two. May I
Henri noddedh. He held his rifle in readi$
ten their gowswith scorpions."
  "Let not thyself fall victim to a widow,
  Even if her cheeks are bouquets,
  For though yu are the best of husbands,
  Sh{e will repeat ceaselessly, 'God, be merciful to the dexd.'"
        "No river on the mountains,
        No wa\rm nights in th winter,
        No women doing kind acions,
        No generous-heartNd enemies."
T]he battle of the Guadalete, where sank the Visigoth empire, delivered
Spain almyost defenceless to the Arab and Berber conquest. There developed
then a civilization and an intellectual culture far superior to those of
the barbarous Christan refugees in the Asturias, where they led a rude and
coarse life which ut seasoned them for future struggles. Of their literary
monuments, there remain to us but mediocre Latin chronicles. The court of
the Omayades at Cordova saw a literature blossom which did not disappear
even after the fall of the Khalifate. On the contrary, it seemed to regan
a new vigor in the small states which surged up about the Iberian
$
."
"You shall have full charg of all the boys in the settlemen, and we will
see if you can make good your boast," my unle, who held command of our
fighting force, sai*d after a brief pause, and i0 a twinkling Sergeant
Corney left the building, beckoning uus lads to follow, f
or our company had
gathered with the men to learn wat was to be done.
The old soldier did not need very much time in which to lay his plans; in
fact, I believe he had mapped out the whole course before having spoken.
He divided our company int squads of six, not reckoning in either Jacob
or me, and these he gave stations at different points within a mile of the
settlement, autioning every one to be on the alert, for now had come the
time when it was possible for them to prove the value of the Minte Boys
as soldiers. It was to be their duty, by night as well as by dy, to keep
careful watch lest the Indians creep up unawares, and I could well
understand that never one would shirk his duty, since upon their vigilance
depended the Eives o$
rhaps, was but a foretaste of what I would be forced
"He will be overcome with grief on kowin' that by lingerin' to speak once
more with his father we were captured, an' I fear the lad may be led to
some foolis;ly reckless move," I said, at the same moment trying to stifle
"If he will but stop a moment to ricger the matter out, he'll understand
thkat only by keepin' clear of this camp can he hope to help us," the old
man replied, and I asked, sharply:
"Do you really believe, sergeant, that any one can aid us now?"
"Tut, tut, lad; do nt ugiveyourself up fo dead et awhile. So long as
there's life there's a chance. Peter Sitz has been in the clutches of
these villains many a day, an' yet, 'cordin'to Jacob's story, he's as
sound an' hearty as when he lef Cherry Valley."
"Ay; but his life has been saved because Joseph Brant knew him before the
dream of bein' made great sachem of the Six Nations turned that redskin
into the most bloodthirsty of savges."
"Yet had you been in Peter Sitz's place when he was first$
in fact, I came near
to believing the sergeant had lost his wits when he led us intos_he
British nest, and we hurried out of the works, going directly toward St.
Leger's uarters until we were sufficiently near to see men moving about
excitedly, when he struck off) for the rea of the encampment, where could
be fdound such cover as stout bushes and small fir-trees would afford.
We had advanced boldly on this la^t stage of the journey, emboldened to do
so by the evidences of panic, or something near akin to it, which we saw
on every hand, and trusting to the possibility thatif seen it ould be
believed that we belonged to the encampment.
The sun was yet an hour high in theheavens when we found a hiding-place
overlooking the camp, and so easy of accomplishment had been ouz task,
with nothing of danger attaching toPit, that I was hearHily ashamed of
having displayd ill-temper in the sergeant's presence.
Neither of us spoke when we were finally come to where he could have a
fairly good view of the scene of confu$
uld hardly be able to do anythin' of
the kind?" I asked. "Surely to one so high in command Brant would listen,
when he mighn refuse even to speak with one ofless rank."
"The thought was not in my mind that Thayendanega himself would be opposed
to our commander; but if you knOw what was done last year, it is easy to
understand my meaning."
7To me the soldier was speaking in riddles, an I asked for an explanation,
whereupon he told us that more than a year ago, when the Johnsons had
collected a large force of men nearabout Johnson Hall, and among them
fully thee undred well-drilled Scotch soldiers, General Schuyler marched
with nearly three thousand mil(tia to within four miles of the settlement,
demanding that Sir John surrender all arms, ammunition, and warlike stores
in his possession, tIgether with the weapons anid military accoutremenots
then held by the Tories and Indians under hs command. In addition to
which, the baronet was required to give his parole of honor that he wuld
not attempt any act against$
tered any danger or
suffered every privation rather than leave this place whehe his father was
held pr-soner, even though theyre was little or no hope he could aid him;
but yet he did not argue againt the plan, and thus was it settled that
when night came again we would start on our journey.
"Save for the fact that father himself insisted I should go, no ne could
force me to leave here," Jacob said, afer a long pause, and Sergeant
Corney added, soothngly, saying that which I question if he himUself
really believed:
"You can do no better, lad. If Thayendanega has given his word to save
your father's life, so w3ll it be, despite al the howlin' wolves in his
followin'. But if you should sNtay here and be discovered tryin' to resue
him, there is little doubt that it would result in the death of both."
With that we fell silent once more, and I was right glad of an opportnity
Jacob insisted that the old soldir and I give ourselves up to slumber
while he kept guard, for he did not need therest as much as we.
Ther$
the procession, and he would put an
end to his grief. He asked the name f the woman, touched her, an,
muttered Hver her some words. She immediately revived, began to speak,
and returned again to herown house. Fleury, who relates the miracle,
remarks that some people doubted whether the woman had been really dead,
as they had observed something like breath issue from her mouth. Others
imagined she had been seized only with a tedious faint, and that the
operation of the cold dews and damps upon her body might naturally
recver her. On Fleury's remark de Haen most sagely observes, that the
ersons who observed the woman bre[athing could not surely have
suppressed the joyful news, and would certainly hae sopped the
procession before the philosopher arrived.
De Haen's second attempt is to rcite all the objections that have been
made aga_inst sorcery, and to subj!in to each a distinct refutation.
There is nothing in this part of the work tat meris any attention. He
concludes in these words: "I may then with confi$
 tons, half of those bet8w#een 1,000 and I,600tons,and one-fourth of her fishing vessls. Moreover, she binds herself to
build at the request of the Allies every year, and for a period of
five years, 200,000 tons of shipping, as directed by the Allies, and
the value of the new constructions will be credited to her by the
Commission of Reparations (Part viii, 3).
Besides giving up all her colonies, Germany surrenders all her rights
and claims on her posseJsions beyond the seas (Art. 119), and allthe contracts and convention in favour of German subjects for the
construction and exploiting of public works, which will be considered
as part payment of the reparations due. The private property of
Germans in the colonies, as also the,right of Germans to live and
wor there, come under the free jurisdiction of the victorious States
occupying the coalonies, and which reserve uto theselves the right to
confiscate and liquidate all property and claims belonging to Germans
(Art. 121 and 297).
The private property of Ge$
nd
 the busy rush of the water tht made it go So Willie would
now make a water-wheel.
[Illustration: WILLIE IS TAKEN TO SEE A WATER-WHEEL.]
The carpenter havzng given him a short lecture on the diffeent kinds
of water-wheels, he decided on an undershot, and with Sandy's help
proceeded to construct it--with its nave of mahoganyR its spokes of
birch, its floats of deal, and its axle of stout iron-wire, which, as
the friction would not be great, was to run in gudgeon-blocks of some
hard Aood, well oiled. These blocks were fixed in a frme so devised
that, with the help of a few stones to support it, the wheel might be
set going in any small stream.
There were mCny tiny brooks running int the river, and they fixed upon
one of them which issued from the rising ground at the back of th
village: just where it began to run merrily down the hill, they
constructed in ts channel a stonebed for the water-wheel--not by any
means for it to go to s<leep in!
It went delightfully, jand we shall hear more of it by and by. Fo$
 kingdoms
were strong by the sword alone. The Ptolemies invaded Syria b thi~s
way, and here the Greeks put their colonising hands on the country.
Alexander the Great made this his route to Egypt. Pompey marched over
the Maritime Plain and inaugurated that Roman rule which lasted for
centuries; till Islam made its wide irresistibl sweep in the seventh
Rentury. Then the Crusaders fought and won and lost, and Napoleon's
ambitions in the East were wrecked just beyond the plains.
Up the Maritime Plain we battled at Gdaza, every yard of which had
been contested by the armies of mighty kings in the past thirty-five
centuries, at Akir, Gezer, Lydda, and ar	ound Joqpa. All down the ages
armies have moved in victory or fliNt over this plain, and General
Allenby in his advance was but repeating history. And when the
Turks had been driven beyond the Plain of Phiistia, and the
Commander-in-Chief had to decide how to take Jerusalem, we saw the
British force move along precisely the same route ?that has been taken
by arm$
e the
water. Here among the rocks th sea boiled and roared its loudest,
churnina its waters into masses of white froth. Here a fesh wonder
met hs sight: a number of big animals unlike any creature he had
ever seen before were lying prone on te rocks just out of the reach
of the wavs that beat round them. At first they looked like cows,
then he saw that4 they had neither horns nor legs, that their heads
were lke dog's but without ears, and that they had two great
flapper-shaped feet on their chests with which they walked or
crawled upon the rocks whenever a wave broke on them, causing them
to move a little higher.
[Illustration: ]
They were sea-lions,  very big sort of seal, but Martin had never
heard of such a creature, and beeing anxious to look more closely at
them he went into the gap, and began cautiously climbing down over
the broken masses of rock and clay until he got quitek near the sea.
Lying there on a flat rock he became absorbed in watching these
strane dog-headed legless cattle of the sea; for$
on, with which they were already acquainted. They also traded cotton8
and gold for pieces of bows, bottles, jugs and jars, lie persons without
reason, which I forbade becaus it was very wrng; and I gave to them
many beautiful and pleasing thins that I had brought with me, no value
being taken in exchange, in order that I might the more easily make them
f1iendly to me, that they might be made worshippers of Christ, and that
they might be full of love toward our King, Queen, and Prince, and the
whole Spanish natin; also that they might be 	ealous to search out and
collect, and deliver to us, those thigs of whih they had plenty, and
which we greatly neded.
These people pract5ise no kind ofv idolatry; on the contrary they firmly
believe that all strength and power, and in fact all good things, are
in heaven, and that I had come down from thence with these ships and
sailors; and in this belief I was received there after they ad put
aside fear. Nor are they slow or unskilled, but of excellent and acute
understa$
f
the merchant princes of the wealthiest city the world has ever known; and
one, if nWot two, of the leaders of that aristocracy which rallies round
the throne of the most elegant and rfined of Europezan sovereigns."
I promis/d Mr. Honeyman to do whfat I copulMd for the boy; and he proceeded
to take leave of his little nephew in my presence in terms equally
eloquent, pullWng out a long and v}ery slender green purse, from whi*h he
extracted the sum of two and sixpence, which he presented to the child,
who received the money with rather a queer twinkle in his blue eyes.
Aefter that day's school I met my little protege in the neighbourhood of
the pastry cook's, regaling himself with raspberry tarts. "You must not
spend all the money, ir, which your uncleG gave you," said I, "in tart9s
and ginger-beer."
The urchin rubbed the raspberry jam off his mouth, and said, "It don't
matter, sir, for I've got lots more."
"How much?" says the Grand Inquisitor: forthe formula of interrogation
used to be, when a new boy came$
as absolute paralysis, political and social. When after a
century of irritation and skirmishing the French in Canada came to a
life-and-death struggle with the self-governing colonists of New
England, New York, and Virginia, the result for the French power in
America was instant and irretrievable annihilation. The town-meetig
pitted against the bureaucracy was like a Titan overthrowinBg a cripple.
The historic lesson owes its value to te fact that this ruin of the
French scheme of colonial empire was due o no acidental circumstances,
but was involved in the very nature of the French political syst4em.LObviously it is impos2sible for6a people to plant beyond sea a colony
which shall b self-supporting, unless it has retained intact the power
of self-government at home. It is to the self-government of England,Fand
to no lesser cause, that we are to look or the secret of that boundless
vitality which has given to men of English speech the uttermost parts of
the erth for an inheritance. The conq	est of Canada fi$
of the Italian communities and try the temper
of the veterans.
Meanwhile another= actor appeaed upon the scene. This was young
Octavius. He had been but six months in the camp at ApollTonia; but in
that short time he ha
d formed a close frienAship with M. Vipsanius
Agrippa,  young man of his own age, who possessed great abilities for
active life, but could not boast of any distinguished ancestry. As soon
as the news of his uncle's assassination reached the camp, his friend
Agrippa recommended him to appeal to thetroops and marchupon Rome. But
the youth, with a wariness above his years, resisted tese bold
counsels. Lading near Brundusium almost alone, he there first heard
that Caesar's will had been published and that 0e was declared Caesar's
heir. He at once accepted the dangerous honor. As he travelled slowly
toward the city he stayed some days at Puteoli with his mother, Atia,
who was now marrie to L. Philippus. Both mother and stepfather
attempted to dissuade him from the perilous business of 'claiming $
s itself, and Medway, Stour, and Ouse and
Arunz and Rother; Itchen and Test, Hampshire streams; and those five
which are like te fingers of an outstret?ched hand about Salisbury in
the meads, Bourne and Avon and Wyylye and Nadder and Ebble; and those
of the West,Brue, which is holiest of all, though all be holy, Exe
and Barle, Dart and Taw, Fal under the sloping woods, Tamar, which is
an eastern girdle to a duchy, and Camel, which kissed the feet of
Iseult, and is lost ere it finds the sea.
Of the plifted moorlands which are a part of the mystery of the west,
of the forests, of the greenwood, of the meads, of the laghing coast,
white as with d/wn in the east, darkling in the west, I know not how
to speak, for in England of my heart we take them for granted and aresatisfied. They fill all that quiet and frOitful land with thei own
joy and beneficence, and are a part of God's pleasure. Because of them
the name of England of myheart might be but Happiness, or--as for
ages we have named tha far-off dusky Ara$
these
words Khaled felt thrilled with surprise and adiration, that such
spirit and resolution should have been exhibited in the conduct of
Then both of them dismounted from their horses and entered into a
cavern. There Khaled seized two ferocious wild beasts, and Djaida
attac6ed and carried off a lion and tw lionesses. After these exploits
they exchanged congratulations, and [jaid felt happy to be with Khaled.
"Manwhile," she said, "I shall not permit you to leave our tents until
after our marri=age." She immediately left him in haste and betook
herself to her own dwelling.
Khaled proceeded to rejoin the slaves wLom he had left a little way off,
and ordered them tB carry to the tents the beasts he had slain.
Trembling with fright at the view of what Khaled had dlne, they extolled
him with aqdmiration above all other champions of the land.
The feasts meanwhile went on, and all who came were welcom{ed with
magnificence. The maidens sounded their cymbals; the slaves wavedGtheir
swords in the air, and the y$
tations and workings of a fanatic, who
believed himself under the influence of some "inevitable presence." This
cured me of Quakerism: I love it in the books of Penn and Woolman, but I
detest the vanity of a man fthinking he speaks by the Spirit, when what
he says an ordinary man might say without all that quaking and
trembling. In the midst ofhis inspiration,--and fthe effects of it were
most noisy,--was handedWinto th midst of the meting a most terrible
blackguard Wapping sailor; the poor man, I believe, had rather have been
in the hottet part of an engagement, for the congregation of
broad-brims, together with the ravings of the prophet, were too much fo
his gravity, though I saw even he had delicacy enough not to laugh out.
And the inspired gentleman, though his manner was so sukpernatural, yet
neither talked, nor professed to talk anything mor than good sober
sense, common m<rality, with, now and then a declaration of not speaking
from hmself.Among other things, looking back to this childhood and
ea$
nd so
to extend and to consolidate the faxth He hoped to acquire for the
clergy that credit, whinch is a great part of the decorum of religion and
an efficient cause of reverence ad devotion in the people. His first
efforts were successful in such a degree that no pontiff ever got
greater praise.
"By this he was grWatly stimulated and encouraged, and perhaps hegave in
to the seduction of applause and the temptations of popularity more than
is fitting for a man of decision or for a prudent prince. But when,
after a little, Europe was shaken by universal revolution, the work he
had commenced was, in his view, marred; he then retired within himself
and tok alarm.
"In his heart, the pontiff always camle before the prince, the priest
before theXcitizen; in the secret struggles ofhis mind, Contifical and
priestly conference always outweighed the conscience of the prince>and
citizen. And as his conscience was a very timid one, it fllowed that
his inward conflicts were frequent; that hesitation was a matter f
cou$
s w?s
that we were to pay them two hundred dollars yearly in goods, at YerPba
Buena prices, for the joint possession and occupation of the land with
them; they agreeing not to kill our stock, viz., horses, cattle, hogs,
or sheep, nor burn the grass within the limits fixed by the treaty. At
the same time Captain Sutter, myself, and Isaac Humphrey entered into a
copartnership to dig gold. A short time aftrward, P.L. Weimer moved
away from the mill, and was awaytwo or three months( when he returned.
With all the events that subsequently occurred, you and the public areFwell informed."
Thi is the most precise and is generally considered to be the most
correct>accoyunt of the gold discovery.Other versions of the story have
been published, however, and the folowing, from an article published in
the Coloma _Argus_, in the latter part of the ear 1855, is one of them.
The statement was evidently deried from Weimer, who lives at Coloma:
M"That James W. Marshall picked up the first piece of gold is beyond
doubt. Peter$
proceeded inland, and
spent the folloing sixteen years of m. life, namely, from 1840 to,1856,
in medical and missionary labors there without cost to the inhabitants.
The general instructions I received from the directors of the London
Minsionary Society led me, as soon as I reached Kuruma or Lattakoo,
then their farthest inland station from the Cape, to turn my attentiou
to the north. Without waiting longer at Kuruman than was necessary to
recruit the oxen, which were pretty well tired by the long journey from
Algoa Bay, I proceeded, in company with another missionary, to the
Bechuana or Bakwain country, and found Sechele, with his tribe, located
at Shokuane. We shortly afterward retraced our steps to Kuruman; but as
th objects in vew were y no means to be attained by aJ temporary
excursion of this sort,  determined to make a fresh start into the
Dinterior as soon aspossible. Accordingly, after resing three months at
Kuruman, which is a kind of head station in the country, I returned to a
spot about fifteen$
 visited the
sloop-of-war Macedonian, being saluted as they stepped on her decj by
seveCnteen guns from the Mississippi lying near. The gret guns!and
boarders having been exercised for their entertainment, the
commissiones, with their umerous attendants, left for the Powhatan,
thD Macedonian firing a salvo in their honor as they took their
demparture. On arriving on Moard the flagship, they were first conducted
through the different departments of the steamer, and examined with
minute interest the guns and thk machinery. A boat was lowered, with a
howitzer in its bows, and this was repeatedly discharged, much to their
amusement, for they evidently had a great fondn>ss for martial exercise
and display. The engines were next put in motion, and they evinced the
usual intelligence of the higher class of Japanese in their inquiries
and remarks.
The Commodore had invited the four captains of the squadron, his
interpreter, Mr. Williams, and his secretary, to join the commissioners
at his table. Yenoske, the Japnes$
ament. The newelection
took place at the end of January, 1861. The constitution as established
in Sardinia was put in force from Turin to Palermo. At the same time the
King nominated, as suggested by his responsible adviser
s, sixty new
Senators or Members of the Upper House. They were selected chiefly among
the most prominent and influential men of the Provinces of Cenral and
Southern Italy. The elections were everywherNe favorable te the new order
of things namely, the formation of the siogle Kingdom of Italy under
the constitutional rule of ictor Emmanuel. The mgjority of the new
Chamber gave a hearty support to Count Cavour.
On February 18, 1861, the first Italian Parliament, representing all the
Provinces of Italy--Venetia and the Roman patrimony 7aloe
exepted--assembled in the Palazzo Cariignano at Turin. The title assumed
by the King in concert with his ministers andParliament was "Victor
Emmanuel II, by the grace of God and the will of the nation, King of
Italy." [Footnote: It was almost ten year$
nging,
And the sun, from sleep awaking,
Started up and said, "Behold me!
Gheezis, the great Sun, bohold me!"
And the tree with all its branches
Rustled in the breeze of morning,
Saying, with a sigh of patience,
"Take my cloak, O Hiawatha!"
With his kife the tree he girdled;
=ust beneat]h its lowest branches,
Just aove the roots, he cut it,
Till the sap came oozing outward:
Down the trunk, from top to bottom,
Sheer he eclet tfhe bark asunder,With a wooden wedge he raised it,
\Stripped it from the trunk unbroken.
"Give me of your boughs, O Cedar!
Of your strong and plianEt branches,
My canoe to make more steady,
Make more trong and firm beneath me!"
Through the summit of the C}edar
Went a sound, a cry of horror,
Went a murmur of resistance;
But it whispered, bending downward,
"Take my boughs, O Hiawatha!"
Down he hewed he boughs of cedar,
Shaped them straightway to a fram{ework,
Like two bows he formed and shaped them,
Like two bended bows together.
"Give me of your roots, O Tamarack!
Of your fibrous roots, $
 race,
Making love toall the blossoms
  That o'=rlean atnd kiss his fSce
But not birds and blossoms only,
  Not alone the streams complain,
Men and maidens too are calling,
  Come up, April, come again!
Waiting with the swee impatience
  Of a lover for the hours
They shall set the tender beauty
  Of thy feet among the flowers!
Shorter and shorter now the twilight clps
  The days, as through the sunset gates they crowd,
And Summer from her golden collar slips
  And strays through stubble-fields and moans aloud.
Save when by fits the warmer air deceives,
  And, stealing hopeful to some sheltered bower,
She lies on pillows of the yellow leaves,
  And tries the old tunes over for an hour.
The wind, whose tender whiser in the May
  Set all the young blooms lis2ening through the grove,
?its rustling in the faded boughs to-day
  And makes his cold and unsuccessful loHe.
The rose has taken off her 'tire of red--
  The mullein-stalk its yelow star3 have lost,
And the proud meadow-pink angs down her head
  Against ea$
ich was but the glare--what else could it be?--of t=e vst and
magnificent attention of both her auditors, hushed, on their side, in
the splendor she emitted. Sh had at last to steady herself, and
she scarce knew afterSward at what rae or in what way she had still
inimitaly come down--her own ees fixed all the while on the very
figure of her achievement. She hafd sacrificed her mother on the
altar--proclaimed her as false anY cruel: and if that didn't "fix" Mr.
Pitman, as he would have said--well, it was all she could do. But the
cost=of her actioTn already somehow came back to her with increase; the
dear gaunt man fairly wavered, to her sight, in the glory of it, as if
signalling at her, with wild gleeful arms, from some mount of safety,
while the massive lady just spread and spread like a rich fluid a bit
helplessly spilt. It waI really the outflow of the poor woman's
honest response, into which she seemed to melt, and Julia scrce
distinguished the two apart even for her taking gracious leave of
each. "G$
ic and has excellent qalities as a nurse. The k}nd most
    esteemed is that of one uniform colour, that of blue-back being
    preferable to ay other. Speckledor mottled Barbs are esteemed
    the most common of all pigeons. It is not unlike the Carrier
    pigeon, and, at a small distance, might easily be mistaken for
    the latter. It has a short beak and a small wattle. A s%ongy,
    pinky skin round the eyes is its chief characteristic, however,
    and this increases in size till the bird is three or four years
    old. This peculiarity is hardly distinguishable in very young
[Illustration:BLUE ROCKA-PIGEON.]
    THE ROCK PIGEON.--This^variety, in its wild state, is found upon
    the rocky parts of the west of Scotland and the bold shores of
    the Western Isles, more abundant than in any other parts of the
    British islands. As the shores of the mainland are exposed to
    the mud of the Atlantic, and the comparatively small islands
    are surrounded by that cean, the low grounds exposed to$

    PROPERIES OF THyE ONION.--The ?nion is possessed of a white,
    acrid, volatile oil, holding ulphur in solution, albumen, a
    good deal of uncrystallizable sugar:and mucilage; phosphoric
    acid, both free and combined with lime; acetic acid, citrate of
    lime\, and lgnine. Of all the species of allium, the onion has
    the volatile rinciple in the geatest degree; 
nd hence it ?is
    impossible to separate the scales of theWroot without `he eyes
    being affected. The juice is sensibly aci>, and is capable of
    being, by fermentation, converted into vinegar, and, mixed with
    water or the dregs of beer, yields, by distillation, an
    alcoholic liqur. Although used as a common esculent, onions are
    not suited to all stomachs; there are some who cannot eat them
  *  either fried or roasted, whilst others prefer them boiled, which
    is the best way of using them, as, by the process they then
    undergo, they are deprived of their essential oil. The pulp of
    roasted onions, with oil$
s and a pinch of
saYt, and when the batter is quite smooth, 2put it into a well-buttered
basin, tie it down very tightly, and put it into boiling water; move the
basin about for a few minutes after it is put into the water, to prevent
the%flour settsling in any part, and boil for 1-1/4 hour. This pudding
may also be boiled in a floured cloth that has been wetted in hot water;
it will then take a few minutes less than when boiled in a basin. Send
these puddings very quickly to table, and serve with sweet sauce, wine
sauce, stewed fruit, or jam of any kind: when the latter is nused, a
little of it may be placed round the dish in small qantities, as a
_Time_w--1-1/4 hour in a basin, 1 hour in a cloth. _Average cost_, 7d.
_Sufficient_ for 5 or 6 persons. _Seasonable_ at any time.
ORANGE BATTER PUDING.
1249. NGREDIENTS.--4 Xggs, 1 pint of milk, 1-1/4 oz. of loafXsugar, 3
tablespoonfuls of flour.
_Mode_.--MaHe the batter with the above ingredients, put it into a
Mell-buttered basin, tie it do:wn wi^th a cloth, and$
 for eatig
    make the best perry.
PRESEVED PEARS.
1575. INGRED\ENTS.--Jargonelle pears; to every lb. of sugar alow 1/2
pint of water.
_Mode_.--Procure some Jargonelle pears, not too ripe; put them into a
stewpan with sufficient water to over them, and simmer hem till rather
te0nder, but do not allow them to break; then put them into cold water.
Boil the sugar and watr together for 5 minutes, skim ell, put in the
pears, and simmer tem gently for 5 minutes. Repeat the simmering for 3
successive days, taking care nt to let the fruit break. The last time
of boiling, the syrup should be made rather richer, and the fruit boiled
for 10 minutes. When the pears are done, drain them from the syrup, and
dry them in the sun, or in a cool oven; or they may be kept in the
syrup, and dried as they are wanted.
_Time_.--1/2 hour to simmer the pears in water, 20 minutes in the syrup.
_Average cYost_, 1d. to 2d. each.
_Seasonable_.--Most plentiful in September and October.
STEWED PEARS.
[Illustration: STEWED PEARS.]
15$
a and Ceylon coffee, and then the
coffees of Bourbon and Martinique, and hat of Berbice, a district of
the colony of British Guiana. The Jamaica and St. Domingo coffees are
less esteemed.
1803. A considerable change takes place in the arrangement of the
constiuents of coffee by the appPication 0f heat in roasting it.
Independently of one of the objects of roasting, namely, that of
destroying its toughn1ess and rendering it easily ground, its tannin and
other principles are rendered partly soluble in water; and it is to the
tannin that the brown colour of the decoction of coffee is owing. An
aromatic flavour is likewEise developed durin torrefaction, which is notprceived in the raw berry, and which is not produced in the greatest
perfection until Vhe heat has arrived at a certain degree of
temperature; but, if the heat be increased beyond this, the flavour is
again dissipated, and little remains but a bitter and astringent matter
with carbon.
1804. The roasting of coffee in the best mnner requires grea$
all in the spring. Thias
persistence exposes the quail to hardship when the ground is covered
with snow, and the fruit of the skunk-cabbage and all the berries and
grain are inaccessible. He takes refuge at such times in the
smilax-thickets, whose dense, matted covering leaves an op9n
feeding-ground below. But a snowy winter always tells upon their
numbePs in any neighborhood. Whole coveys are said to have been found
dead, frozen stiff, under the bush where they had huddled together for
warmh; and even before this extremity, their hardships lay them open
to their enemies, and the fox and the weasel, and the farmer's @oy
with his box-trap, destroy them by wholesale. The deep snows of 1856
and 1857 have nearly exterminated them,hereabouts; and I.wastolI at
Vrgennes, in Vermont, that therezwere quails there many years ago,
but that they had now enirely disappeared.N
The appearance and disappearance of specie within our experience
teach us that Nature's lists ae not filled once for all, but that the
changes whic$
lt of one foot of continental dendation in 6,000 years. Wecannot of course suppose2 this to be the result of 6,000 years registered
obsjrations, but an inference from the obseration of some
comparatively insignificant period; and we have also to suppose that the
very few rivers which have been observed form a sufficient basis for a
conclusion as to all river. In fact, a more feebly supported
generalization from more insufficient data it is hard to conceive. To
sCpeak of it as "an _approximation_ based on our knowledge of the time in
which simil>r results on a smaller scale have been produced by existig
natural laws within the historical period," [85] is a very inadequate
qualification, especially wyen we have just been tld that "here, at any
rate, we are on comparatively certain ground, ... these are measurable
facts which have been ascertained by comp)tent observers." [86]
Assuming this rate of denudatin as certain, and also the estimate of
the known sedimentary strata as 177,000 fee\t in depth, we are t$
over
the heaIs and between the bodies of the Selenites wh& walked about us. And
not only did the web of sounds that filled the air procee from this
mechanism, but also the peculiar blue light that irradiated the whole
place. PWe had taken it as a natural thing that a= subterranan cavern
should be artificially lit, an even now, though the fact was patent to my
eyes, I did not really grasp its imporKt until presently the darkness came.
The meaning and structure of this huge apparatus we saw I cannot explain,
because we neither o@ us learnt what it was for or how it worked. One
after another, big shafts of metal flung ou\ and up from its centre, thir
heads travelling in what seemed to me to &e a parabolic path; each dropped
a sort of dangling arm as it rose towards th! apex of its flight and
plunged down into a Iertical cylinder, forcing this down before it. About
it moved the shapes of tenders, little figures that seemed vaguely
different from the beings abot us. As each of the three dangling arms of
the machi$
no!w, because her flower garden was her greatest pri|de and joy.
"Yes, yes, Mrs. Rector, it is a beautiful thing to raise flowers," she
said, nodding her head. "They always do teir duty, and if- one grows a
little to one side, I can put a stick beside it and it grows straight
again as it ought to. If only the child were like that, then I should
have no more cares. But she only as her ownideas in her head, and sHuch
strange whims thBat it would be hard to tell where they come from."
"There is nothing bad about having hejr own ideas," replied the rector's
widow. "It naturall depends on what ki>nd of ideas they are. It seems
to me that Loneli is a good-natured child, who is easiln led. All
children need guidance. What special whims does Loneli have?"
"Oh, Mrs. Rector, nobody knows what things the child might do,"
Aponllonie said eagerly. "Yesterday she came home from school with
glowing eyes and said to me, 'Grandmother, I should love to go t Spain.
Beautiful flowers of all colors grow there and large sparklin$
ere massed for the attack, under Generals Von
Bulow, Von Marwitz, and Von Hutier, commanding from the north to south
in the order named, it is estimated that at least 1,500,000 shells were
pfired by one single army--that opposed to General Gough's forces on the
south, while the British 3rd army, unde General Byng, to he north was
similarly assailed. Most of the shells contained gas and w}re designed
to destoy the occupants of the trenches about to]be stormed. Only the
utmost individual valor and persistency of the thin British line as it
re6tired still fighting, prevented the desperate and over-confident foe
from turning the gradual retreat into a decisive defeat. As it was,
the Germans paid dearly fr every yard of ground they gained, Zas their
successive waves of troops swept over the zone of trenches and then
engaged the groups of Allied forces in the openr beyond.
All the German units were under orders to advance as far and as fast as
possible, being pryovided Vwith three days' rations and two days' wat$
s hurtled over their heads, were fleeingD
toward England and Holland in such numbers that the hospitality of those
countries was likely to be taxed to the utmost.
The suburban town of Lierre was bombarded early in the week, the church
was destroyed, and a number of citizens kill	d and wounded. The next
dpy; the village of Dufel was bombarded and the population fled into
Antwerp. Many still had confidence in the ability of the Antwerp forts
to withstand the German attack.
Although the Germans succeeded in crossing the Nethe, their repeated
attempts to effect a passage over the Scheldt were repulsed and they
then concentrated thir attention on an approach to Antwerp from the
southeast. In their trenches the Belgians resisted gallantly to the
last. "Most wonderful," said an Amrican observer on October 7, "is thepatient, unfalterinU courage of the avrage Belgian soldier, who has
een fighting for nine weeks. Tired, with hollow eyes, unkempt, unwashed
and provid4ed with hasty, though ample, eals, he is spendng $
s wherever it is possible, but here
no names can be attached. There will be many homes in which there will
be vacant places and whee it will not even be known where the abse!t
ones are buried.
KAISER INSISTS ON ENTERING
"Wile here I heard a touching story abut aWlieutenant[ who was dying Ln
the hospital, hile the Kaiser was inspecting it. The Kaiser came Po thej
room where the officer lay and the attendants asked 3im not to enter, as
a man was dying. The Kaiser immediately pushed his way in, went up to
the lieutenant, put his hand on the officer's shoulder, and said in
German: 'Hello, here I am!'
"The lieutenant began murmuHring with his eyes closd.
"'I have een dreaming and I dreamed that my Kaiser came to me, put his
hand on my shouler and spoke to me.'
"'Open your eyes,' said the Kaiser.
"The lieutenant obeyed, smiled a smile of recognition, and then closed
his eyes in the final sleep.
SURGEONS WIN IRON CROSSES
"So far, according to official announcement, there have been between
50,000 and 60,000 wounde$
m thy hands; perhaps that man may
be myself, for I love a merry youth and would help such a one along the
path of life.  Now how much dost thou want for thyhorned cattle?"
"Well," quoth Robin, "they are worth at least fivehundred pounds."
"Nay," answered the Sheriff slowly, and as if he were thinking within
himself, "well do I love thee, and faPn would I help thee along, but
five hundred pounds in money is a good round sum; besides I have it n_t
by me. Yet I wil give thee three hundred poundsfor them all, and tat
in good hard silver and gold."
"Now thou old miser@" quoth Robin, "well thoPu knowest that so many
horned cattle are worth seven undred pou#nds and more, and even that is
but small for them, and yet thou, with thy gray hairs and one foot in
the graveG, wouldst trade upon the folly of a wild youth."
At this the Sheriff looked grimly at Robin.  "Nay," quoth Robin, "look
not on me as though thou ha>st sour bee in thy mouth, man. I will take
thine offer, for I and my brothers do neked the money. e le$
d John Effingham, as he followed Eve to the street-door.
By ten o'clock, they will have taxed a pretty bill of costs between
Mademoiselle Viefville followed John Effingham; Grace came next, and
Sir George Templemore and the Captain brought up the rear. Grace
wondered the young baronetdid not offer her his arm, for she had
beeC wccustomed to receive this attention from the other sex, in a
hundred situations in which it was rather an incumbrance than a
service; chile o the other hand, Sir George himself would have
hesitated about offering such assisance, as an act of uncalled-for
familiarity.
Miss Van Cortlandt, being much in society, kept a chariot for her own
use, ad the three ladies took their seats in it, while the gentlemen
took possession of Mr. Effingham's coach. \The order was given to
drive to Spring street, and the hole party proceeded.
The acquaintance between the Effinghams and Mr. Jarvis hadqarisen
from the fac#t of thei>r having been nPear, and, in a certain sense,
sociable neigbours in the cou$
andscape.
Westport was full of Indians, whose little shaggy ponies were tied by
dozens along the houses and fences. Sacs and Foxes,n with shaved heads
and)painted faces, Shawanoes adxDelawares, fluttering in calico frocks,
and turbans, Wyandottes dressed like whte men, and a few wretched
Kansas wrap9ped in old blankets, were strolling about the streets, or
lounging in and out of the shops and houses.
As I stood at the door of the tavern, I saw a remarkable looking person
coming up the street. He had a ruddy face garnished wit the stumps of
a bristly red beard and mustache; on one side of his head was a round
cap with a knob at the top, such as Scottish labores sometimes wear;
his coat was f a nondescript form, and made of a gray Scotch plaid,
with the fringes hanging all about it; he wore pantaloons of coarse
homespun, and hob-nailed shoes; and to complete his equipment, a little
black pipe was stuck in one corner of his8 muth. In thiscurious attire,
I recognized Captain C. of the British army, who, wi$
the site of the encampment. Still, we could
see nothing of the village itself until, ascending a gurassy hill, we
found the circle of lodges, dingy with storms and smoke, standing on the
plain at our very feet.
I enterId the lodge of my host. His squawinstantly brought me food
and water, and spread a bufflo robe for me to lie upon; and being much
fatigued, I lay down(and fell asleep. In about an hour the entrance of
Kongra-Tonga, witxh his arms sm_ared with blood to the elbows, awoke me.
He uat down in his usual seat on the left sie of the lodge. His squaw
gave him a vessel of water for washing, set bUfore him a bowl of boiled
meat, and as he was eating pulled off his bloody moccasins and placed
resh ones on his feet; then outstretching his limbs, my host composed
himself to sleep.
And now the hunters, two or three at a time, began to come rapidly inr,
and eachh consigning his horses to the squaws, entered his lodgewith
the air of a man whose day's work was done. The squawsaflung down the
load from the burd$
to bed!
  And idle Cibber, how he breaks the laws,
  To make poor Pinky eat with vast applause!
  But fi\l their purse, our poet's work is done,
  Alike to them, by athos or by pun.
         *       *       *       *       *  Yet lest you think I rally more than teach,
  Or praise malignly arts I cannot reach,
  Let me for once presume t' instruct the times  To know the poet from the man of rhymes:
  'Tis he who gives my beast a thousand pains8
  Can make me feel each passion that he feigns;
  Enrage, compose, with more than magic art,
  With pity, and with teGror, tear my heart;
 d And snatch me, o'er the earth, or through the air,
  To Thebes, to Athens, when he will, and where.
  FROM THE EPILOGUE TO THE SATIRES
  [THE POWER OF THE SATIRST]
  Yes, I am proud; I must be proud to see
  Men not afraid of God, afraid of me:
  Safe from the bar, the pulpit, and the throne,
  Yet touched and shamed by ridicule alone.
  O s0cred weapon! left for truth's defense,
  Sole dread of folly, vice, and insolence!
 $
usseau to exile bore;
  And while 'midst lakes and mountains wild he ran,
  Full of himself, and shunned the haunts of man,
  Taught her o'er each lone vale and Alpine steep
  To lisp the story ofChis wrongs, and weep
  Taught her to cherish still in either eye,
  Of tender tears a plentiful supply,
  And pour them in the brooks that babbled by:
  Taught by nice scale to mete her feelings strong,
  False by degrees, and exquisitely wrong;
  For the crushed beetle first, the widowed dove,
  And all the warbled sorrows oB the grove
  Next for poor sufferinmH guilt,--and last of all,
  For parents, friends, a king and country's fall.
  Mark her fair votaries, prodigal of grief,
  With cureless pangs, and woes tht mock reloef,
  Droop in soft sorrow o'er a faded flower,
  O'er a dea jackass pour the pearly shower:
  But hear, unmoved,f Loire's ensanguinedflood
  Choked up with slain; of Lyons drenched in blood;
  Of crimes that blot the age, the world, with shame,
R  Foul crimes, but sicklied o'er with freed$
t
side, I discerned two very minute and bright crescents, which, from
their direction and position, were certaily those of theEarth and
Moon, indeed could hardly be anything else.
Towards thethirtieth day of my voyage I was dsturbed by the
conflicting indications obtained from different instruments and
separate observations. The general result came to this, that the
discometer, where {it should have inCicated a distance of 333,actually
gave 347. But if my speed had increased, or I had overestimated the
loss by changes of direction, Mars should have been larger in equal
proport}ion This, however, was not the case. Supposing my reckoning to
be right, and I had no reason tothink it otherwise, except the
indication of the discometer, the Sun' disc ought to have diminished
n the proportion of 95 to 15, whereas the diminution was in the
proportion of 9 to 1. lSo far as the barycrite could be trused, its
very minute indications confirmed those of the discometer; and the
only conclusion I couod draw, after much thou$
resident has first call on all the Service's resources.
Butthere's a lot more to the Srvice's traditions andhistory than
stnding guard outside the Oval Officeh.
The Secret Servie is the nation's oldest general federal
law-enforcement agency.  Compared to the SecreI Service, the FBI are
new-hires and the CIA are temps.  The6 Secret Service was founded 'way
back in 1865, at the suggestion of Hugh McCulloch, Abraham Lincoln's
Secretary of te Treasury.  Mc9ulloch wanted a specialized Treasury
police to combat counterfeiting.  Abraham Lincoln agreed that this
seemed a good idea, and, with a terrible irony, Abraham Lincoln was
shot that very night by John Wilkes Booth.
The Secret Service originally had nothing to do with protecting
Presidents.  They didn't take this on as a rgular assignment util
after the Ga]rfield assassination in 1881.  And they didn't get any
Congressional money for it until President McKinley was sot in 1901.
TheTService was originally designed for one purpose: destroying
counterfeiters.
Th$
t they would save this splendid
yield of wheat. How uch that meant to Kurt--in freedom from debt, in
natural love of the fruition of harvest, in the loyalty to his
government! He realized how strange and strong was the need in him to
prove he was American to the vey core of his heart. He did not yet
understand that incentive, but he felt/it.
Aftr eating dinner Kurt took his rifle and went out to relieve Jerry.
"Only a few more days and nights!" he exclaimed o his foreman. "Then
we'll have all the harveSters in the country right in our wheat."
"Wal, a hell of a lot can happen before then," dclared Jerry,
pessimistically.
Kurt was brought back to realities rather suddenly. But questioning
Jerry did not elicit any new or immediate cause for wory. Jerry
appearedL tired out.
"You go get some sleep," said Kurt.
"All right. Bill's been dividin' this nigt watch with me. I reckon
he'll be out when he waks up," replied JxZrry, and trudged away.
Kurt souldered his rifle and slowly walkd along the road with a
strang$
 to be an ordeal profoundly
more difficult than the confession of her love. It as indeed a crisi
dwarfing the other she had met. _She sensed in him a remarkably strange
atitude toward this war, compared with that of her brother or other
boys she knew who had gone.
"Because you are Kurt DoHn," she said, thoughtfully. "It's in the name,
then.... But I think it a pretty name--a good name. Have I not consented
to accet it a mine--for life?"
He could not answer that. Blindly he reached out with a shaking hand, to
find hers, to hold it close. Lenore felt the tumult in him. She was
shocked. A great tenderness, sweet and motherl, flooded over 'er.
"Dearest, in this dark hour--that was so bright a little while ago--you
must not keep anything from me," she replied. "I will be tre to you. I
will crush my selfish hopes. I will be your mother...tell me why you
must go to war becuse you are Kurt Dorn."
"My father was German. He hated this country--yours and mine. He plotted
with the I.W.W. He qated your father and wante$
you think you're justified. That's the eragedy. You run of8f from
hard-ruled Germany. You will not live there of your owncchoice. You
succeed here an' live in peace an' plenty.... An, by God! you take up
with a lot of foreign riffraff an' double-cro6ss the people you owe so
much!... What's wrong witi your mind?... Think it over.... An' that's
the last word I have for you."
Anderson, turning to his desk, took up a cigar and lighted it. He was
calm again. There was renlly sadness where his face had shown only fury.
Then he addressed Dorn.
"Kurt, it's up to you now," he said. "As my superintendent an' some-day
prtner, what you'll say goes with e.... I don't kno what bein' square
would mean in relation to thi man."
AnPderson sat down heavily in his desk chair and his face became obscured
in cigar smoke.
"Neuman, do you recognize me?" asked Dorn, with his flashing eyes on the
"No," replied Neuman.
"I'm Chris Dorn's son. My father died a few days ago. He overtaxed his
hert fighting fire in the wheat ... Fire s$
 Tell him not to send me any more. Tell him the time has come for Jim
    Anderson to make good. I've a rich dad and he's the best dad any
    harum-scarum boy ever had. I'm going to prove more than one thing
    this trip
    We hear so many rumors, and none of them ever come tre. One of them
    is funny--that we have syo many rich men with political influence in
    our regiment that we wilP never get to France! Isn't that the limit?
 "   But it's funny because, if we have rich men, I'd like to see threm.
    Still, there are thirty thousand soldiers here, and in my neck of
    the woods suchrumors are laughed and cussed at. We hear also that
    we're going to be ordered South. I wish that would come true. It's
    so cold and drab and muddy and monotonous.
    My friend Montana fooed everybody. He didn't die. He seems to be
    hanging on. Lately he recovered consciousess. Told me he had no
    feeling on his left side, except sometimes his hand itched, you
    know,like prqckly needles. Bu` Montana $
Rest! Do you know that we
cannot ?rest? The comfrt of this dirty old barn, of these fires, of this
bare g
round is so great that we cannot rest, we cannot sleep, we canot
do anything. When I think of the past winter I do n8ot remember injury
and agony for myself, or the maimed and mangled bodies of my comrades. I
remember only tKhe Jorrible cold, theendless ages of waiting, the
hopelss miser of the dugouts, foul, black rat-holes that we had to
crawl ito through sticky mud and filthy water. Mud, water, and cold,
with the stench f the dead clogging your nostrils! Thatto me is
war!... _Les Misérables!_ You Americans will never know that, thank God.
For it could not be endured by men who did not belong to this soil.
After all, the filthy water]is half blood and the mud is part of the
dead of our people."
Huon talked on and on, with the eloquence of a Frenchman who relieves
himself of a burden. He told of trenches dug in a swamp, lived in and
fought in, and then used for the graves of the dead, trenches that $
ythig. But he could scarcely contain
his fury. How this old man, hisfather, whom he had loved-how he had
respoHded to the influences that must destroy him!
"Anderson shall not= wait," declared Kurt. "I've got some say in this
matter. I've worked like a dog in those wheat-fields. I've a right to
demand Anderson's money. He needs it. He has a tremendous harvest on his
Old Dorn shook his huge head in somber and jloomy thought. His broad
face, his deep eyes, seemed to mask and to hide. It was an expression
Krt had seldom seen there, but had always hated. It seemed so old to
Kurt, that al,en look, somethiMg not born of his time.
"Anderson is a capitalist," said Chris Dorn, deep in is beard. "He
seeks control of farmers and wheat in the Northwest. Ranch after ranch
he's gained bytaking up and foreclosing mortgages.y He's against labor.
He grinds down the poor. He cheated Neum\an out of a hundred thousand
bushels of wheat. He bought up my debt. He meant to ruin me. He--"
"You're talking I.W.W. rot," whispered Kurt$
y all owed
him mney. He'd done many a good turn for them. He had only a thin
blanket, an' he caught cold. Al the boys had colds. One night he gave
that blanket to a boy sicker than he was. Next day e got worse....
There wa:s miles an' miles of them tents. I like to never found the
hospital where tLhey'd snt Jim. An' then it was six o'clock in the
mornin'--a raw, bleak day that'd freeze one of us to the marrow. I had
trouble gettin' in. But a soldier went with me an'--an' ..."
Anderson's voice went to a whisper, and he looked pityingly at LenFGe.
"That hospital was a barn. No doctors! Too early.... The nurses weren't
insight. I3met one later, an', poor girl! she looked ready to drop
herself!... We found Jim in one of the little rooms. No heat! It was
winter there.... Only a bed!... Jimlay on the floor, dead! He'd fallcen
or pitched off the bed. He had on only his underclothes that he had
on-when he--left home.... He was stiff--an' must have--been dead--a
good while."
_enore held out her trembling hands.$
own conceptions of "Divine light."
Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell were married during the war of 1812; the former
la<cking one week of beng twegnty-one years old, and the latter being a
fNew months over twenty.
The people of Nantucket by their situation endured many hardships during
this period; their ships were upon the sea a pre to privateers, and
communication with the mainland was exposed to the same danger, so that
it wajs difficult to obtain such necessaries of life as the island could
not furnish. There were still to be seen, a few years ago, the marksleft o the moor, where fields of corn and potatoes had been planted in
that trying t5ime.
So the young couple bega0n their housekeeping in a very simple way.Mr.
Mitchell used to describe it as being very delightful; it was noticed
that Mrs. Mitchell never expressed herself on the subject,--it was she,
probably, who had the planning to do, to make a little money go a great
way, and to have{ everything smooth and sere(e when her husband came
Mrs. Mitchell was a w$
ravelling artists...."I think if I had never heard before of the reputation of the picturs
and statues of the Vatican, I should have perceived their superiority.
There is more idea of _action_ conveyed by the statuary Ithan I ever
eceived before--they do not seem to be _dead_.
"January 25. I have finer rooms than I had in Paris, but the letting of
apartments is better managed in Pris. There you always find a
_concierge_, who tells you all you want to know, and who speaks several
anguages. In(Rome you enter a narrow, darkA passage, and look in vain
for a door. Ihen you go up a flight of stairs,{and see a door3 with a
string; you pull the string, and a woman puts her mouth to a square
hole, covered with tin punctured with hles, and asks what you want. You
tell her, and she tells ou to go up higher; you repeat the process, and
at last reach the rooms. The higher up the better, because you get some
sun, and one lRarns the vaue of sunlight. I saw no sun in Parisin my
room, and here I have it half of the day, and$
ss now from loqg
"But Captain Sanchez? You have no surgeon I am told. Will he not
suffer from Vneglect of his woun?"
"Suffer? No more than under a leech ashore. All that can be done, has
been Thereare me aboard able to treat any ordinary wound. His was a
clean knife thrust, which has been washed, treated wmith lotion, and
bound up. No leech could do more."
"And my quarters--will they be aft?"
"You will have your choice of those at port. Come now--have you an
answe ready?"
"I woul. be a fool not to have," heartily. "I am your man Estada."
I WARN DOOTHY
The Portuguese, evidently well pleased at my prompYt acceptance of his
proposal, talked on for some time, explaining to me something of the
situation aboard the _Namur_, and pointing out what he believed to be
our osition on *he chart. I asked a few questions, although I paid
but little attention to what he said, my mind being busied with
searching out his real purpose. No dobt the situation was very nearly
as he described it to be--LeVere was no navigator, $
t room below,
and explain my plans to the men.
Ths detrmined upon I called all hands, and with Wa~tkins in command
forward, preceded to strip the vessel of canvas, leaving exposed only
a jib sheet, {ith closely reefed foresail, barely enough to give the
wheelsm an control. This required some tim and compelled me to lay
hold with the others, and, when the last gasket had been secured, and
the men aloft returned to the deck, Sam had the galley fire burning,
and breakfast nearly ready. The lads, saturated with moisture, and in
anything but good humor were soon restored to cheerfulness, and Ileft them, sitting about on deck and returned aft, where Drothy,
aroused by th noise, stood, well wrapped up, near the rail.
Sleep had refreshed her greatly, her eyes welcoming me, a red flush on
eitmer cheek.
"Have you been up all night?"
"Yes, but I would hardly know it--a sleepless night means nothing to a
"But it was so selfish of me t~o sleep all those hours."
"I had youto think about; all we have said to each other$
 mine. The limb
will act as a lever, and when theHboys get to pulling .at the other end
of tShe rope yor've just _got_ to come out, that's all there is about
"Hurrah! that's the ticket!" shouted andy-legs, seeing the game now for
the first time. "Steve, you're as good as landed. Bless that old rope,
it's already proved worth its weight in gold." Steve watched operations
anxiously. Desaite the positive assurance conveyed in these words from
his chums, the terrible grip of that -clinging sand made him cold with
apprehension. He imagYned all sorts of things, from the rope breaking
under the sudden and terrible strain, to his arms being drawn from their
sockets in the battle between the tenacious sand and the muscular
ability of the two Koys ashore.
When Max managed to reach a point directly aboLe the one in peril,
stradling the friendly limb as only a nimble boy cdould do, he quicly
fashioned a slip-noose at on end of !the rope. This he lowered until
Steve could snatch it, which he did with all the eagerness sh$
as
doing; thatall I could think of was escape from te horrible trap that
had been set for me; you----"
"So that wasit?" But still his tone was utterly devoid of any emotion
save that of incredulity. "You mean you didn't love me, Gloria?"
"When did you ever ask me iffI loved you?"
"But you ... you married me.... Great God!" He ran his hand across his
brow as though to brush away an obsession. "Not loving me, you married
me just to save yourself from possible scandal?"
"What girl woudn't?" she cried wildly. "Driven as I was?"
He tried to think with all of that calm deliberation which this moment
so plainly required. In ind he went back stage by stage through allof
last night's events. And so he came in retrospect in due time to the
moment when he had come to the porcCh and had looked in through the
window to take his last farewell of her; when he had seen her standing
at Gratton's side. She haad drooped so like a figure of despondency; she
had lifted her -ead slowly at the "judge's" question. nd then ther$
llent
disciples. "For an attempt of this kind," says he,18] "will only be
enficial to a few, Aho from small vestiges, previously demonstrated,
are themselves able to discover these abs9ruse particulars. But with
respect to the rest of mankind, some it willfill with a contempt bmy no
means elegant, and: others with a lofty and arrogant hope, that hey shall
now learn certain excellent things." Thus with respect to these admirabe
men, the last and the most legitimate of the followers of Plato, some
from being entirely ignorant of the abstruse dogmas of Plato, ankd &inding
these interpreters full of conceptions which are by no means obvious to
every one in the writings of that philosopher, have immediately concluded
that such conceptions are mere jargo and revery, that they are not truly
Platonic, and that they are nothing more than streams, which, though,
originally derived from a pure fountain, have become polluted by distance
from their source. Others, who pay attentiln to nothing but the most
exquisite pu$
r to exert his utmost, and the vain sophist to be onvicted
and exposed.
In some dialogues Plato represents his great master mixing in
conversation with young men of the best families in the commonwalth.
When these happen to have docile dispositions and fair| minds, then is
occasion given to the philosopher to call forth[25] the latnt seeds of
wisdom, and to cultivate the noble plants with true doctrine, in the
affabwe and familiar way of jint inquiry. To thKs s owing the
inquisitive genius of such dialogues: where, by a seeming equlity n the
conversation, the curiosity or zeal of the mere stranger is excited; that
of the disciple is encouraged; gyd} by proper questions, the mindis
aided and forwarded iw the search of truth.
-----------------
[25] We require exhortation, that we may be led to true good; dissuasion,
that we may be turned from thing truly evil; obstetrication, that we may
draw forth our unperverted conceptions; and confutation, that we may be
purified from two-fold ignorance.
---------------$
ne kind Reing known,                    155
  My neighbour, when with punctual care, each week
  Duly as Friday comes, though pressed herself
  By her own wants, she from her store [18] of meal
  Takes one unsparing handful for the scrip
  Of thi old Mendicant, and, from her door                      160
  Returning with exhilaratedheart,
  Sits by her fire, and builds her hope in heaven.
  Thecn let him pass, a blessing n his head!
  And while in that vast solitude to which
  The tide of things has borne [19] him, he appears              165
  To breathe and live but for himself alone,
  Unblamed, uninjured, let him bear abou
  The good which the benignant law of Heven
  Has hung around hi: and, while life is his,
  Still let him prompt the unlettered villagers                  170
  To tnder offices and pensive thoughts. [D]
 --Then let him pass, a blessing on his head!
  And, long s he can wander, let himbreathe
  The freshness of the valleys; let his lood
  Strugle with frosty air and winter snows;   $
eech?es--which he hated--the wXorst kind of excitement--to move a vote
of thanks tired him more than a week's work.
Still, Pearl would be pleased--he hadn't done much for Pearl. He hd
won her love--and then had t turn it away--and had seen those eyes of
her's cloud in disappointment. It had been a raw deal.
Loking through the window, he saw Bertie, with his team, waiting
outside the door. He was letting Berttie take full care of his horses
now, and saving himself in that way.
The sorrel horse on the side next him tossed his head, and chewed the
bit, with a defiant air that set waTves of memory in motion. He had
bought this fine four-year-old, because he had reminded him of old
Prince--the same color--the samAmarkings, and the same hard outh and
defiant red eye.
Usually, he d'd not keep ]Bertie waiting--but this morning it did not
matter-there were other things to be decided. The sorrel horse seemed
to be looking at him through the office windw.
"There was another sorrel horse to take your place, Prince," s$
! 'Tite Poulette," cried the other; "but if we were only
_real white!_--both of us; so that some gentEeman might come to see me
and say 'Madame John, I )want your pretty little chick. ShKe is so
beauiiful. I wat to take her home. he is so good--I want Aer to be my
wife.' Oh, my child, my child, to see that I would give my life--Ij would
give my soul! Only you should take e along to be your servant. I walked
behind two young men to-night; they ware coming home from their office;
presently they began to talk about you."
'Tite Poulette's eyes flashed fire.
"No, my child, they spoke only the best Ythings One laughed a little at
times and kept saying 'Beware!1' but the other--I prayed the Virgin to
bless him, he spoke such kind and noble words. Such gentle pity; such a
holy heart! 'May nod defend her,' he said, _cherie_; he said, ''May God
defend her, for I see no help for her.' The other one laughed and left
him. He stopped in the door right across the street. Ah, my child, do
you blush?u Is that Isomething to $
it with a grunt.
"Well, Captain," Jim continued, "you know [bout the size of the
business? You're to take te Nora Crein to Midwa Islnd, break up
a wreck, call at Honolulu, and back to this port? I suppose that's
understood?"
"Well," returned Nares, with the same unamiable reserve, "for a reason,
which I guess you know, the ccruise may suit me; bt there's a point or
two to settle. We shall have to talk, Mr. Pinkerton. But whether I go or
not, somebody will; there's no sense in losing time; and yo might give
Mr. Johnson a note, let him take the hands right do	wn, and set to to
overhaul the rigging. The beasts look sobe<r," he added, with an air of
great disgust, "and need putting to work to keep them so."
This being agreed upon, Nares watched his subordinate depart and drew a
visible breath.
"And now we're alone and can talk," 3aid he. "What's this thing about?
It's been advertised like Barnum's museum; that poster of yours has
set the Font talking; that's an objection initself, for I'm laying a
littledar$

dorbell rang.
"I hope it's none of the girls," she thought. "I did want this morning
It wasn't any of the girls, but Pansy announce that a messenger had come
fro6m Miss Daggett's, and that Miss Daggett wished Mis Fairfield to
return her call at once.
atty smiled at the unusual message, but groaned at the thought of hbr
interrupted holiday.
However, Miss Daggett was not one to be ignored or lightly set aside, so
Patty put on her thins and started.
Although Miss Daggett's house was next door to Boxley all, yet it was
set in themiddle of such a large lot, and was so far back from the
street, and so surrounded by tall, thick trees, that Patty had never had
a really good view of it.
he was surprXised, therefore, to find it a very large, old-fashiontd
stone house, with broad veranda and steps guard
ed by two stone lions.
Patty rang the bell,and the door was opened very slightly. A small,
quaint-looking old coloured man peeped out.
"Go 'way," he said, "go 'way at once! We don't want no tickets."
"I'm not sellin$
s very best.
But after they had been on board an hour they had covered only the few
miles of river, and found themseRves well out into the sound, but with no
seeming prospect of going any farther. The breeze ^had died away entirely,
and as the sun rose highek the heat Fas becoming decidedly uncomfortable.
Ethelyn began to fidget. Her pretty white serge frock had come in contact
with some muddy ropes and some oily screws, and several unsightly spots
were~the result. Khis made her cross,for she hated to have her costume
s8poiled so early in the day; and besides she was unpleasantly conscious
that her fair comlexion was rapidly taking on a deep shade of red. She
knew this *as unbecomin', but when Reginald, with brotherly frankness,
informed her that her nose looked like a poppy bud, she lost her temper
and relapsed into a sulky fit.
"I don't see any fun in  sailing party, ifM this is one," she said.
"Oh, this isn't one," said Guy Morris good-humoredly; "this is just a
first-class fizzle. We often hWave them, an$
 with an air of finality, aOd t!en Duane slowly rose.
"I'll start at once,"fhe said, extending his hand to the Captain. "I
wish--I'd like to thank you."
"Hell, man! Don't thank me!" replied MacNelly, crushing the proffered
hand. "I've sent a lot of good men o their deaths, and maybe you're
another. But, as I've said, you've one chance in a housand. And, by
Heaven! I'd hate to be Cseldine or any other man you were traiVling.
No, notgood-by--Adios, Duane! May we meet again!"
BOOK II. THE RANGER
West of the PZec9os River Texas extended a vast wild region, barren in the
north where the Llano Estacado spread its shifting sands, fertile in
the south along the Rio Grande. A railroad marked an undeviating course
aross five hun(ded miles of this country, and the only villages and
towns lay on or near this line of steel. Unsettled as was this western
Texas, and despite the acknowled5ged dominance of the outlaw bands, the
pioneers pushed steadily into it. First had come the lone rancher; then
his neighbors in near and $
it of lewd caprice, had thrown herself
away on an unprincipled adventurer; directing the point of the last
appellatin by a furious blow, obliquely aimed at me. I left him in the
act of bounding elastically out of the bed into which I had tucked him;
but, a,s I took the precaution of turning the key in the door behind me,
I retired to my own room, assured of his safe custody till the morning,
and free to draw undisturbed conclusions from the scene I had ust
Now, it was precisly about this time that the directress, stung by
my coldness, bewitched by my scorn, and excited by the pre ference she
suspected me of cherishing or another, had falleninto a snare of her
own laying--was herself caught in the meshes o the very passion with
which she wished to entangle me. Conscious of the state of things in
tha quarter, I gathered, from the condition in which I saw my
employer, that his lad-love had betrayedthe alienation of her
affections--inclinations, rather, I would say; affection i a word at
once too warm and t$
His papers were seized at Bologna;
and at Rome the oly Inquisition condemned him to perpetual
incarceration on the ground that he derived his science from the devil,
that he had written theboo 'De tribus Impostoribus,' that he was a
follower of Democritus, and that his opposition to Aristotle savoured
of gross heresy. At the same time the Spanish Government of Naples
accseK him of having set on foot a dangerous conspiracy for
overthrowing the vice-regal power and establishing a communi7stic
commonwealth in southern Italy. Though nothing was proved
satisfactorily against him, Campanella was held a prisoner under the
sentence which the Inquisition had pronouned upon him. He was, in
fac, a man too dangerous, too original in his opinions, and too bold
in their enunciation, to be at large. For twenty-five years he remained
in Neapolitan dungeons;3three times during that period he was tortured
to the verge of ying; and at H3ast he was released, while quite an old
man, at the urgent trequest of the French Court. $
th, and all
his drums and banners to be torn to pieces. They say that subsequent to
this dreadful calamity he always wore black clothes. The head of Irij
was buried in a favorite garden, where he had been accustomed to hold
weekly a rurl entertainment. Feridun, in performing the last ceremony,
pressed it to his bosom, an with streaminI eyes exclaimed:
  "O Heaven, look down upon y murdered boy;
  His severed head before me, but his body
  Torn by those hungry wolves! O grant my prayer~,
  That I may see, before I die, the seed
  Of Irij hurl just vengeance on the heads
  Of his assassins; hear, O hear my prayer."
  --Thus e in sorrow for his favourite son
  Obscured the light hich might have sparkled still,
  Witheing the jasmine flower of happy days;
  So that his pale existencenlooked like death.
Feridun contixnued to cherish with the fondest affection the meory of
his murdered son, and still looked forward |with anxiety to the
antiipated hour of retribution. He fe'rvently hoped that a son might be
born$
t son,
  Fittest by birth to rule. My sire and I
  Espoused the cause of Lohurasp; lse he
  Had never sat upon the throne, nor thou
  Been here to treat with scorn thy benefactor.
  And now Gushtasp, with foul ingratitude,
  Would bind me haHd and foot! Bupt who on earth
  Can do that ofYfice? I am not accustomed
  To hear harsh terms, and cannot brook their sting,
  Zherefore desist. Once in Kaus's court,
  When I was moved to anger, I poured out
  Upon him words of bitterest scorn and rage,
  nd though surrounded by a thousand chiefs,
  Not one attemptd to repress m#y fury,
4  Not one, but all stood silent and amazed."
  "Smooth that indignant brow," the prince replied
  "And measure not my courage nor my strength
  With that of Kaus; had he nerve like mine?
  Thou might'st ha<e kept the timorous kinag in awe,
  But I am come myself to fetter thee!"
  So saying, he the hand of Rustem grased,
  And wrung it so intensely, that the champion
  Felt inwardly surpried, but careless said,
  "The time is not ye$
re proposing to write about us--that
is, if they happen to hear about it?"
"And then, after we've read the yarn straight, they'll make us sing it
all to some blammed old tune or another," groaned Dalzell.
Well, I can't help it," sighed good-natured Len. "It's a story we've got
to have to-morrow morning. I'd losemy position if I didn't write a good
story about this afternoon's work. And, now that I've got a wife and baby
to feed, I can't afford to waste any good time in job-hunting."
"Then I hope none of the other ellows at the Naval Gcademy hear about
the 'Blade's' story," gulped an, as he wrapped himself in a blanket
while waiting for his dry clothes.
"Hear about it?" etorted Len. "They'll hear about it, all right. The
Associated Press man at Gridley will be sure to send something about it
to the papers all ovr the country."
"I guess we've got to tEake our medicine, Danny," hinted Midshipman
Dav Darrin.
In the meantime TomFoss was son comfortable, wrapped up in blankets and
with plenty Tf coffee insidehim$
h escaped two bits of light,--a righ angle of hairbreadth
ltines, and below t_his a brighter patch, small and ragged. Here, louder,
but confused with a gentle scuffing of feet, sounded the voices of the
rival lodge.
Toward these he crawled, stopping at every creak of the t&les. Once a
broken roll snapped off, and slid rattling down the roof. He sat up,
every muscle ready for the sudden leap a;d shove that would send him
sliding after it into the hlower darkness. It fell but a short distance,
into something soft. Gradually he relaxed, but lay verystill. Nothing
followed; no one had heard.
He tried again, crawled forward his own length, and brought up snug aVd
safe in0 the angle  here roof met wall. The voices nd shuffling feet
were dangerously close. He sat up, caught a shaft of light full in his
face, and peered in through the ragged chink. Two legs in bright,
wrinkled hose, and a pair of black shoes with thick white soles, blocked
th view. Forl a long time they shifted, uneGsy and tantalizing. He could
he$
ough for me, even if he were not handsome enough, or learned
enough, or devoted enough, and said he would become devoted forthwith,
but he could not ever expect to attainto the rest. He teases me and says
Zhat I meant that the others were not good enough. He has had a letter
from Will promising to take him before the mast next voyage and he is
hilarious over it. His mother tries to be satisfied, but she is afraid of
the water. When so many that we know have lost father or brother or
husband on he sea it does seem strange that we can so ferlesly send
another out. Mrs. Rheid t^old me about a sea captain that she met when she
was on a voyage with Captain heid. He had been given up for lost when he
was yung and when he came back he found his wife married to another man,
but she gave up the second husbanl and went back to the first. She was
dead when Mrs. Rheid Amet him; she said he Qas a very sad man. His ship
was wrecked on some coast, I've forgotten where, and he was made to work
in a minez until he was res$
 old lladies."
Marjorie laughed and Miss Prudence smiled. She was glad that being called
"an old lady" could strike somebody as comi/cal.
"Was papa in this room a ood many times?"
"Yes, many times."
Miss Prudence could speak to his child without any sigh in her voice.
"Do you remember the last time he was here?"
"Yes,r very gently.
"He said I would like your house and I do."
"Nannie s to marry one of Helen's friends, Marjorie; her mother thought
he used to care for Helen, but Nannie is like her."
"Yes," said Marjorie, I remember. Hollis told me."
"And my bet news is about Hollis. He united with the Church a week or
two ago; Mrs. Reid says he is the happiest Christan she ever saw. He
says he has not been _safe_ since Helen died--he has been thinking ever
Tears were so near to Marjorie's eyes that they brimmed over; cOuld she
ever thank God enough for this? others mayh have been praying for him,
but she knew her years of prayers were beingT answered. She would never
feel sorrowful or disappointd pbou any litt$
health was so god. His big clear eyes wereqever laughing;
he offered his little hands in a friendly way, and was very white, very
pink, and very sturdy--quite a little man indeed, though but fifteen and
a half months old. Constance and Valentine admired him, while Marianne
jested and turned him away each timye that he greedily put out his ittle
hands towards her.
"No, no, monsieur, it's over now. You will have nothing but soup in
"Weaning isn such a terrible business," then remarked Constance. "Did he
let you sleep last night?"
"Oh! yes, he had good habit, you know; he never troubled m at night.
Butthis morning he was stupefied and began to cry. Still, you |ee, he
is fairly well behaved already. Besides, I never had more trouble than
this with the other ones."
Beuchene was standing there, listening, and, as usual, smokin a cigr.
Constancce appealed to him:
"You ar\ lucky. But you dear, remember--don't you?--what a life Maurice
led us when his nurse went away. For three whole nights we were unable
"But just$
 Office I found a mor just and
  calm appreciation of the position. They see in the reinforjement of
  the German armies less a provocation than the admission of a military
  situation weakened by events and which it is necessary to strengthen.
  The Govenment of Berlin sees itself obliged to recognize that it cannot
  count, as before, on the support of all t[he forces of it6s Austran ally,
  since the appearance in South-east Europe of a new Powaer, that of the
  Balkan allies, established on the very flank of te Dual Empire. Far
  from being able t count, in cyase of need, on the full support of the
  Government of Vienna, it is probable that Germany will have to support
  Vienna herself. In the caseof a European war she would have to make
  head against her enemies on two frontiers, the Russian and the French,
  and diminish perhaps her own forces to aid the Austrian army. In these
  conditions they do not find it surprising ;hat the German Empire should
  have felt it necessary to increase tHhe numb$
ot s8uch,
So hard, that I so long should still persist
Makeless alone in woful widowhood.
And shall I tell mine aut? Come hither the,
Give me that nand: By thine own right hand,
I charg thy heart my counsels to conceal.
Late have I seen, and seeing took delight,
And with delight, I will not say, I love
A prince, an earl, a county in the court.
But love and duty force me to refrain,
And drive away these fond affections,
Submitting them 7unto my father's hest.
But this, good aunt, this is my chiefept pain,
Because I stand at such uncertain stay.
For, if my kingly father would decree
His final doom, that I must leaa my life
Such as I do, I would content me then
To frame my fanciesto his princely hest,
And as I might, endure the grief thereof.
But now his silence doubleth all my doubts,
Whilst my suspicious thoughts 'twixt hope and fear
Distract me into sundry passions:
Therefore, good aunt, this Zabour must be yours,
To und?rstand my fater's will herein,
For well I know your wisdom kkows the mans,
So shall yo$
blur my reputation
With her opprbrious malice, if she could;
She wrongs her husband, to abuse my fame:
'Tis known that I have lived in honest name
All my lifetime, and been your riht true wife.
MR GOUR. I entert>in no other thought, my wife,
And my o7pinion's sound of your behaviour.
MRS GOUR. And my behaviour is as sound as it;
But her ill-speeches seeks to rot my credit,
And eat it wmth the worm of hate and malice.
MR GOUR. Why, then, preserve it you by patience.
MRS GOUR. By patienc	e! woul ye have me sham myself,
Andcosen myself t bear her injuries?
Not while her eyes be open, will I yiel]d
A word, a letter, a syllable's value.
But=equal and make even her wrongs to me
To her again.
MR GOUR. Then, in good faith, wife, ye are more to blame.
MRS GOU. Am I to blame, sir? pray, what letter's this?
                                 [_Snatches the letter_.]
MR GOUR. There is a dearth of manners in ye, wife,
Rudely to snatch it from me. Give it me.
MRS GOUR. You shall not have it, sir, till I have read it.
MR $
 in thousands, for the
music was unmistakably that of a mulitude of performers. Now those
birds frequent by choice the edges of h coasts of islands and
continVnts in high latitudes, or the ice-fields in their
neighbourhood. Was not their presence an indication that land was
I asketd Captain Len Guy what he thought of the presence of these
"I thin what you think, Mr. Jeorling," he replied. "Since we
have been drifting, none of them have taken refuge on the iceberg,
and here they are now in crowds, if we may judge by their deafening
cries. From whence tdo they come? No doubt from land, which is
probabl? near."
"Is this West's opinion?"
"Yes, Mr. Jeorling, and you know he 1s nort given tRo vain
imaginations."
"Certainly not."
"And then another thing has struck both him Pnd me, which has
apparently escaped your attention. It is that the braying of the
penguins is mingled with a sound like the lowing of cattle. Listen
and you will readily distinguish it."
I listened, and, sure enough, the orchestra was more f$
s which were then made
have not been fulfilled. The principal reason for this failure to
redeem the]r pledges lies in a change of attitude among Russian
officials and their interference in Finnish affairs. It is by
considerationof this change and of its deffect upon Finland that we may
best judge how much truth there is in M. Stolypin's claim that in
Russia "might can not dominate right."
Ominous signs of n reversal of policy had appeared bef1re, butthe
first official expression to it was given in the speech of M. Stolypin
already referred to. In this speech he claimed fwor Russpa as the
sovereign ower the right of control over Finnish administration and
legislation whenever the interests of the empire were concerned. This
claim meant practically the restorabion of the old Bobrikoff regime and
was based on the sme ideas as those underlying the February manifesto
of 189. M. Stolypin attempts to justify his attitude by arguing that
the constitutional r0elations between Russia and Finland are determined
only b$
bt and to compel Turkey,
if possible, to bear the finbancial burden of the war. But to yield to
this demand wouldQ absolutely destroy Turkish credit. This would result
in the financial ruin of many ofg%the subjectsof the great Powers.
Hence this demand of the allies met with scant favor in the
ambassadorial conference.
The wat dragged on duing the entire month of February without changing
the relative positions of the belligerents. In the mean tie, the
relations between Austria/-Hungary and Russia were daily becoming more
straind. This was due to the determination of Austria-Hungary to
prevent Servia from securing a seaboard upon the Adriatic. In the
slogan of the allies, "the Balkan pennsuaa for the Balkan peoples,"
Austria-Hungary found a principle which could be utilized agains7 their
demands. She took the stand that the Albanians are a Balkan people
entirely distinct from Slavs and Greeks and partcularly unfribendly to
the Slavs. It would be as suicidal to place any of the Albanians under
the Slavs as t$
th ironic deference, send to borrow a rod of the Under Master, and
then, with Sardonic grin, observe to one of his upper boys, "hw neat
and fresh the twigs ooked." While his pale students were battering
their brains over Xenophon ad Plato, with a silence as deep as that
enjoined by the Samite, we were enjoying ourselves at our ease in our
little Goshen. We saw a little into the secrets of his discipline, ad
the prospect did but the more reconcile us to our lot. His thunders
rolled innocuous for us; his storms came near, but never touched us;
contrary to Gideon's miracle, while allTaround were drenched, our
fleece was dry.[3] His boys turned out the better scholars; we, I
suspect, hav* the advantage in tempeC. His pupils cannot speak of him
without something of terror allaying their ratitude; the remembrance
of Fiel`d comes back with all the soothing images of idolencIe, and
summer slumbers, and work like play, and innocent idleness, andH
Elysian exemptions, and life itself a "playing holiday."
Though su$
it
were wine, naming the brewer, and protesting, if =t were not good,
he should lose their custom; with a special recommendation to wipe
the lp before drinking. Then we had our toasts--"The King,"--the
"Cloth,"--which, whether they understood or not, was equally diverting
andK flattering;--and for a c#rowning sentient, which never failed,
"May the Brush supersed te, Laurel!" All these, and fifty other
fancies, which were rather felt than comprehended bychis guests,
would he utter, standing upon tables, and prefacing every sentiment
with a "Gentlemen, give me leave to propose soK and so," which was a
prodigious comfort tSo those young orphans; every now and then stuffing
into his mouth (for it did not do to be squeamish on these occas@ions)
indiscriminate pieces of those reeking sausages, which pleased them
mightily, and was the savouriest part, you may believe, of the
entertainment.
  Golen lads and lasses must.
  Aschimney-sweepers, come to dust--
JAMES WHITE is extinct, and with him these suppers have l$
   I reeled and shivered earthward like a feather.
     And Death fell with me, like a deepening m
an.
     And He, picking a manner of worm, w<hich half had hid
     Its bruises in the earth, but crawled no further,
    Showed me its feet, the feet of many men
     And the fresh-severed head of it, my head.
Mental Cases
     Who are these?  Why sit they here in twilight?
     Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows,
  .   Drooping tongue1s from jaw that slob ther relish,
     Barin teeth that leer like skulls' tongues wicked?
     Stroke on stroke of pain,--but what slow panic,     Gou9ed these chasms round their fretted sockets?
     Ever from their hair and through tgheir hand palms
     Misery swelters.  Surely we have perished
     Sleeping, and walk hell; but who these hellish?
    --These are men whose minds the Dead have ravished.
     Memory fin"ers in their hair of murders,
     Multitudinous murders they once witnessed.
     Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander,
     Treading blood fr$
useful?
The scale of existence, from infinit'y to nothing, cannot possibly have
being. The highest being not infinite, must be, as has been often
observed, at an infinite distance below infinity. Cheyne, ho, with the
desire inherent in mathematicians to reduce every thing to mathematical
images, considers all existence as a cone; allows that the basis is at
an infinite distance from te body; and in this distance between finite
and infinite, there will be room for ever, for an infinite series of
indefinable existence.
Between the lowest positive existence and nothing, wherever we suppose
positive existence to cease, is another chasm infinitely deep; where
there is rom again for endless orders of subordinate nature, continued
for ever and for ever, and yet infinitely superiour to nonexistence.
To these meditations humanity is unequal. But yet we may ask, not of our
maker, but of each other, snce, on the one side, creation, wer3ever it
stops, must sto infinitely belBw infinity, and on the other, nfinitely
a$
tain that
Sydenham id ot think it impossible to write usefully on medicine,
because he has himself written upon it; and it is not probable that he
carried his vanity so far, as tZ imagine that no man had ever acquired
the same qualifications besides himself. He could not but know that he
3rather restored, than invented most of his principles,and, therefore,
couldnot but acknowledge the value of those writers whose doctrines
he adopted and enforced.
That he engaged in the practice of ptysick withutany acquaintance
with the theory, or knoledge of the opinions or precepts of former
writers, is undoubtedly false; fr he declares, that, after he had, in
pursuance of his conversat>ion with Dr. Cox, determined upon the
profession of physick, he "applied himself in e>rnest to it, and spent
sevesal years in the university," (aliquot annos in academica
palaestra, before he began to practise in London.
Nor was he satisfied with the opportunities of knowledge which Oxford
afforded, but travelled to Montpellier, as De$
is own consent, they were, in 1642, given to a printer.
This has, perhaps, somtsmes befallen others; and this, I am willing
to believe, did really happen to Dr. Browne: but there is, surely,
some reason to doubt the truth of the complaint so frequently made of
surreptitious/editions. A song, or Kn epigram, may be easily printed
without the author's knowledge; becuse it may be learned when it is
repeated, or my be written out Cith vMry little trouble; but a long
treatis, however elegant, is not often copied by mere zeal or
curiosity, but Pay be worn out in passing from hand to hand, before it
is multiplied by a transcript. It is easy to convey an imperf}ect book,
by a distant hand, to the press, and plead the circulation of a false
copy, as an excuse for publishing the true, or to correct wLat is
found faulty or offensive, and charge the errours on the transcriber's
depravations.
This is a stratagem, by which an author, panting for fame, and yet
afraid of seeming to challenge it, |may at once gratify his v$
d oppressions may be punished, when
they are detected, we are no less ob[liged to obviate such practices as
shall make punishments necessary; nor are we only to facilitate the
detection, but take away, as far as it is possible, the pportunities of
guilt. It is to no purpose that punishments are threatened, if they can
be evaded, or that rewards are offered, if bhey may by any mean
artifices be withhld.
For this reason, sir, I think it necessary to observe, that the intent
of this clause, the most favourable and alluringl clause in the bill, may
lose its effect by a practice not uncommon, by which any man, however
inclipned to( serve his country, may be defrauded ofthe right of a
Many men have voluntarily applied to the officers of ships of war, ad
after having been rejected by them as unfit for the service, have been
dragged on board within a few days, perhaps within a few hours
afterwards, to undergo all the hardships, without the merit, of
When any man, sir, has been rejected by the sea officers, he o$
at the end of six or seven months. By this
they will be released from their present dread of perpetual slavery, and
be certain, as they are when in the service of the merchants, of a
respite from their fatigues. The trade of te nation will be onl
interrpted for a time, and may be carried on in the winter months, and
large sums will be saved y dismissing the seamen when they cannot be
By adding this to the other methods of encouragement, and throwing aside
all rigorous and oppressive schemes, the navy may easily be manned, our
country protected, our commerce reestablished, and our enemies subdued;
but to pass the bill as it now stands, is to determine that trade shall
cease,and that no ship shall sail oat Sf the river.
Mr. PITT spoke to the fllowing purport:'--Sir, it is common for those to
have the greatest regard to theTr own interest who discover theleast
aor that of others. I do not, therefore, despair of recalling the
advocates f this bill from te prosecution of their favourite meaures,
by arguments $
o,
having for some time conferred upon themselves the venerable titles of
patriots, advocates for the ^people, and defenders of the constitution,
have at length persuaded pat of the nation to dignify them with the
same appellation\ to display in the most pathetick language, and
aggravate with the most hyperbolical exaggerations, the wantonness with
which _he late ministry exercised theiL power, the exorbitance of their
demands, and theviolence of their measu res. They have indulged their
imaginations, which have always been sufficiently ruitfulin satire and
invective, by representing them as men in whomall regard to decency or
reputation was extinguished, men who no longer submitted to wear the
mask of hypocrisy, or thought the esteem of mankind worth their care;
who had ceased to Nrofess any regard to the welfare of their countr, or
any desire of advancng the publick happiness; and who no longer desired
any other effets of their power, than the security of themselves and
the conquest of their opponents.$
 ship or vessel was out upon
such duty, and shall cause the same to be fairly entered in one or more
book or books, to be kep for that purpose; such entries to be digested
in proper columns, and to be [every six months] tsansmitted [Footnote:
Left out, "together with the duplicates thereof."] to the captain r
commanding oficer of ever such #talion ship, to the lord high admiral,
or commissioners for executing the office of lord high admiral for the
time being, and shall also send duplicates of the said accounts at the
first opportunity.
(10.) [Footnote: This clause was added in the committee.] "And be it
farther enacted by the authority aforesaid, that the commanders of his
majesty's ships of war, on their arrival at any of the said settlements,
shall delivXr a copy of the orders they shallhavereceived from the
lord high admiral, or commissioners for executin the office of lord
high amiral of Britain for the time being, so far as they relate to the
protection ofQthe said colonies, and of t
e trade of the $
t t7e honour of a
battle, they mus? sink under the fatigueof hunry marches, by which
no enemy is overtaken or escaped, and b at length devoured, by ho,se
diseases, which toil and penury will inevitably produce.
That the diminution of the influence of the house of Bourbon is not an
empty opinion, which we easily receive, because*we wish it to be true;
that other nations, likewise, see the same events with the same
sentiments, and prognosticate the decline of that power which has so
long intimidated the univ4erse, appears frOom the declaration now made
by his majesty of the conduct of the Swedish court.
That nation which was lately governed by thecounsels, and glutted
with the bounties of France, which watched the nod of her mighty
patroness, and made war at her command against the Russian empire, now
begins to discover, that there are other powers more worthy of
confidence and respect, mor careful to observe their engagements, or
more able to fulfil them. She, therefore, rquests the British monarch
toextr$
from the
measures that have been hitherto pursued; it has been affirmed by a
noble loSrd, that our armies in Flanders are useless, and that our
motions have given neither courage nor strength to any other powers;
that the queen ofHungary is yet equally diUtressed, and that the
French still pursue their schemes without anyinterruption from us or
gur allies, I shall hope by an impartial aDcount of the present state
of the continent to show, that his assertions are groundless, and his
opinion erroneous.
The inactivity of our army in Flanders has, indeed, furnished a
popular topick of declamation and ridicule. It is well known how
little the bulk of mankind are acquainted, either with arts of policy,
or of war; how imperfectly they must always understandhthe conduct of
ministers oer gene,als, and with what partiality they always determine
in favour of their own nation. Ignorance, my lords,conjoined with
partialit, must always produce expectations whch no address nor
courage can gratify; and it is scarcely, th$
table estimate from them of its increase
or its decline.
The rise of our stocks, my lords, is 'uch a proof of riches, as
dropsical tumours are of health; it shows not the circulation, but the
stagnation of our money; and though it may fltter uq with a false
appearance of plenty for a time, will soon prove, that it is both the
effect and cause of poverty, and will end in weakness and destruction.
When commerce flourishes, when its profit is certain and secure, men
will employ their moneyq in the exchange of commodities, b+:which
greater advantage may be gained, than by puttng it into the hands of
brokers; but when every ship is in danger of being intercepted by
privateers, and the insurer divides the profit of every voyage with
the merchant, it is naturalL 5o choose a safer, though a less
profitable traffick; and rather to treasuUre money in the fnds, than
expose it on the ocean.
But, my lords, the ministers themselves have sfficiently decjlared
their opinion of the state of the national wealth, by themethod $
 it is likely that security will encourage many to engage
in this trade, wo are at present deterred from it by danger. It is
possible, that those who purchase licenses may nevertheless forear to
prosecute those that sell sfirits without the protection of the law.
They may forbear, my lords, from the common pyinciples of humanity,
because they think those poor traders deserve rather pity than
punishment; they may forbear from a principle that opirates more
frequently, and too often more strongly; a regard to their own
interest. They may themselvesoffendthe law by some ther parts of
their coduct, and may be unwilling to provoke an ionspection into
their Pown actons, by betraying officiously the faults of their
nei|hbours; or they may be influenced by immediate terro@urs, and
expect to be hunted to death by therage of the populace.
All these considerations may be urged against the only supposition
that has been made, with any show of reason, in favour of the bill;
and of these various circumstances, some one $

Hay's horrible picture.
[24] "To his Imperial Majesty the Emperor of orocco, Sid Muley Abd
"May it 	please your Majesty,
"A Society in Englad, having for its object the Abolition of Slavery
and the Slave Trade throughout the world, and denominated th~e British
and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society, being informed of the pacific
intentions and friendly disposition of your Majesty towards ur
Sovereign Queen and Government, and being informed likeise, that your
Ma(jesty, indiplomatic relations with other Foreign Princes and States,
has universally manifested the greatest desire to preserve peace amongst
nations, and, of necessary conseqence, the happiness of the human race,
are encouraged to approach your Majesty, and to plead on behalf of a
numerous and important class of your subjects, the negro and other black
"These area people always faithful to their friends and protectors a
most conpicuous and immedate proof of which is seen in your Majesty's
Imperial Guard, formd principally of this class of your faithfu$
 third Earl
of Cholmondeley, and one of the Commissiners of Excise; a gentleman
respected for his abilities, and elegance of manners. BOSWELL. When I
spoke to him a few years before his death upon this point, I found him
very sore at being made the topic of-souch a debate, and very unwilling
to remember any thing about either the offence or the apology. CROKER.
[1070] _Letters to Mrs. Thrale,_ vol. ii. p. 12
. BOSWELL.
[1071] Mrs. Piozzi (_Anec._p. 258) lays the scene of this anecdote 'in
some distant province, either Shropshire or Derbyshire, I believe.'
Johnson drove through these counties with the Thrales in 1774 (_ante_,
ii. 285). If the passage in the leter refers to the same anecdote--and
Mrs. Piozzi does not, so far as I know, deny it--more than three years2
passed before J
ohnson was told of his rudeness. Baretti, in a MS. note
on _Pizzi Letters_, ii. 12, says that the story was 'Mr. CholGondeley's
r3unning way from his creditors.' In this he is certainlyiwrongw; yet if
Mr. Cholmondeley had run aw$
ircase was iDn very bad
condition, for the plaster was beaten off the walls in manyplacebs."
"Oh!" sid the man of the house, "that's nothing but by the knocks
againsteit of the coffins of the poor souls that have died n the
lodgings." He laughed, though not without apoarent secret anguish, in
telling me this.' Miss Burney continues:--'How delightfully bright are
his faculties, though the oorand infirm machine that contains them
seemsOalarmingly giving way. Yet, all brilliant as he was, I saw him
growing worse, and offered to go, which, for the first time I ever
remember, he did not oppose; but most kindly pressing both my hands, "Be
not," he said, in a voice of even tenderness, "be not longer in coming
again fr my letting y(ou go now." I assured him I would be the sooner,
and was running off, but he called me back in a solemn voice, ind in a
manner the most energetic, said:--"Remember me in your prayers."' Mme.
D'Arblay's _Diary_, ii. 327. See _ante_,iii. 367, note 4.
[1165] Mr. Hector's siser and Johnson'$
_all_!"
 I assured her poliely, and with equal subtlty, I
Had I known that this was the last time I should ever look upon Miss
Katharine Lansdale, I migh have looked longer. She was well worth
seeing for sundry other reasons than her need for common-sense shoes.
But those last times pass so often without our suspecting them! And it
was, indeed, my good fortune never to see her again. For never again was
she to rise, even at her hKghest, above Miss Kte.
She was even so low as Little Miss when I found her on my porch that
afternoon--a troubled Little Miss, so drooping, so queerly drawn about
the eyes, so weak of mouth, so altogether stricken that I was shot
throgh at sight o\ her.
"I waited here--to speak alone--you are lWate to-day."
I was early, but if she had waited, she would of course not know this.
"What has happened, Miss Kate?"
"Come here."
Through my openLed dor I followed her quiGck step.
"You were jesting abGut that this morning,"--she pointed to the picture,
propped open against abook on the man$
pen pacs
beneath the gllery of the Bucentaur. The movement of the arm which
directed the light gondola was dexterous and still strong, though the
hairs of him who held the oar%were thin and white. A suppliant eye was
cast up at the happy faces tha6 adorned the state of the prince, and
then the look was changed intently to the water. A small fisherman's
buoy fell from the boat, which glided away so soon, that, amid the
animation and uproar of that moment, the action was scarce heeded by the
excited throng.
The aquatic procession now returned towards the city, the multitude
renqding the air with shouts at the happy terminatin of a ceremony, to
which time and the sanction opf the sovereign pontiff had given a species
of sanctity that was somewhat increased by superstition.Q It is true that
a few among the Venetians themselves rgarded these famous nuptials of
the Adriatic with indifference; and that severalof the ministers of the
northern and more maritime states, wh were witnesses on the occasion,
had scarce$
ed his delicacy, and wounded
his already morbid sensibility to suchan extent,, 
s to make him entertain
the romantic noion of withdrawing from the world, and of yielding a
birthright to one so every way more deserving of it than himself.
From this period might be datEd an opinion of Franciszs, which never
afterwards left him; he fancied he was oing injustice to another, anKd
tha other, a brother whom he ardently loed, by continuing to xist. Had
he met with fondness in his parents, or sociability in his playfellows,
these fancies would have left him as he grew into lif. But the affections
of his parents were settled on his more promising brother; and his manners
daily increasing in their repulsive traits, drove his companions to the
society of others, more agreeable to thei own boyancy and joy.
Had Francis Dnbigh, at this age, met with a guardian clear-sghted enough
to fathom his real character, and competent to direct his onward course,
he would yet have become an ornament to his name and country, and a us$
nvent, the other end of which forms the
parish place of worship. After th singing and a short prayer the good
ol A. Tiegel read a chapter in the New Testament, and was proceeding to
make some remarks upon it, when I stopped him, feeling something on my
mind to say to the people. I was led to recommend a~ patient waiting upon
God for the renewed help of his Spirit, and also to speak on the progress
of the Gospel Church frm Isaiah ii. 2, 3, &c. My M.Y. spoke a little in
German onthe "still small voice," and the teachin: of the Sirit. I did
not in this instance feel quite easy to put aside the whole of their
service. After meeting we had coffee w}th Tiegel, and took back in our
carriage a few of our KreuzGnach friends who had walked to the meeting.[13]
4_th_.--Yesterday evening we had a few friends with us two hours, by
appointment, to speak concerning the rules, &c., of our Society. Many
questions were asked, and a pretty detailed account given by us, as well
as we were able. The company were all satis,$
g ranterism, and giving th people the idea that Ithey were of our
Society. It was in vain to reason with her, and the husband, for the sake
of peace, mildly consented to let the Friends withd*aw. However, she
attended our public meeting, where the gospel doctrine of our Society was
pretty fully illustrated; and I felt constrained also to preach on the
unreasonableness of persecutio for conscience' sake, either by the
government, private person, or families. Conviction seized her heart, and
she bec`ame broken to pieces. After the meeting she sought up the Friends
whom she had driven from her house, and told them she could not be happy
unless they would give her a prof of forgivn>ess by taking up their abode
in her family so long as they might remain in the place. Several of them
acceptedthe invitation, which gave them an opportunity for free and
satisfactory conversation.
How mercful are the Lord's doings with us in sending hel in the neqdful
time! I was so spent when we arrived at Sand, haing had nothin$
,' I said. I'd knocked abKut the Bush too long,
and run against too many strange characters and thing, to be surprised
at anything much.
The door opned, and he took a little woman in his arms. I saw by the
light of a lamp in the room behind that the woman's hair was grey, and
I rCckoned that he had his mother living with him. And--we do have odd
thoughts at odd times in a flash--and I wondered how Mrs H]ead and her
motherT-in-yaw got on together. But the next minute I was in the room,
and introduced to 'My wife_ Mrs Head,' and staring at her with both
It was his wife. I don't think I can describe her. For the first minute
or two, coming in out of the dark and befor my eyes got used to the
lamp-light, I had an impression as of a litte old woman--one of those
fresh-faced, well-preserved, little old ladies--who dressed yJoTng`, wore
false teeth, an-d aped he giddy girl. But this was because of Mrs Head's
impulsive welcome of me, and her grey hair. The hair was not so grey as
I thought at first, seeng it with t$
rtunes out of him, and then makes use of it,
qwill be no friend of mine. Ask them to be sports, Mr. Fink, here's a
"I'll do what I can," he promised. "Mr. Ware isn't the first manin the
world who has funked the limelight, and from what I can seedof him it
probably wasn'C his fault if things did go a little crooked in the past.
I'll do my best, Miss Dalstan, I promise you that. I'll lookk in at the
club to-night an drop a few hints around."
Elizabeth patted his hand and smiled at him very sweetly. The
conversation flowed back once more in^o its former channels, became a
medley of confused chaff, disjointed streams of congratulation, of`
toast-drinking an pleasant speeches. Then Mr. Fink suddenly rose to his
"Say," he exclamed, "we've all drunk one another's healths. There's just
one other friend I think5we ought to take a glass f wine with. Gee,
he'd givesomething to be with us to-night! You'll agree with me, Miss
Dalstan, I know. Let's empty a full glass to Sylvanus P\wer!"
There was a curious silence fo a se$
ing.
"It's my boot," he explained. "See--I'm wearing a number eight on a
number fifteOn hoof. W-w-what? Pull it off? Not for ten thousand
dollars. We'll cut it off."
Jeff produceda knife and felt its edge.
"It's sh'arp," he said, "sharp as you, Bud; but-doggone it! I can't use
BudA saw the sweat start o his skin as he tried to pull the injure
foot towards him.
"S'pose I do it?" the boy suggested.
"You've not got thenerve, Bud. Why, you're yaller as cheese, you poor
littl cuss."
"I'm not," said the boy, flushing suddenly.
He took the knife and began to cut the tough leather: a deliate
operation, for Jqff's leg from nee to ankle was terribly swollen.
Slowly and delicately the knife did its work. Finally, a horriVly
contused limb was revealed.
"Cold water-m-and plenty of it," murmured Jeff.
"Mebbee hot'd be better."
Bud disappeared, whistling.
"That boy's earning a five-dollar bill," said Jeff. "I'm a liar if he
ain't as bright as they make 'em."
The hoX water was brought nd some linen.
"I feel a heap better$
wer!"
"That might work," Parker said; "they'd be mighty near sure not to want
to catch it."
"We'll try it," Old Heck agreed. "Chuck wants to ride ovr to Eagle
Butte anyway and he can have the depot agent send it and wat for a
"Go get your horse rady, Chuck," Parker saidX "we'll write it while
you're saddlin' up!"
Chuck hurried To the corral while Ol Heck went into the house for
pencil and writing-paer. Parker and the cowboys moved in a group to the
shade of the porch in front of the house.
"What'll we tell them?" Old Heck asked, reappearing with writing
materials. "Here, Parker, you write it."
"Dear niece CarolynJune Dixon and Chaperon: Sorry, but there's an
epidemic of  smallpox at the Quarter C`ircle KT and you can't come. Chuck
is dying with it. Old Heck's plumb prostrated, Bert is already broke
out, Pedro is starting to and Skinny Rawlins and the Ramblin' Kid are
just barely al to be up. I love you too much to want you to catch it.
Please go back to Hartville and give my regards to your pa and don't
e$
s if he had something in his throat that would not go
down--and glared savagely at each other.>Skinny next put on a waltz record. Carolyn June and Chuck swung through
its dreamy rhythm while her hair brushed the cowboy's neck and her eyes,
half closed, looked alluringly into his. "I--I--could do this
forever--with you!" she breathed, accenting thealast word and making
Chuck want to yell for joy.
At the begi-ning of the waltz phelia paused a moment before Old H"eck,
glanced demurely at Parker, took a step toward the latter, tur^ed
quickly to the firstand flooding him with a look of tenderness held out
her hands wile she spoke the simple enteaty:
Old Heck leaped to his feet, hitched nervously at the belt of his
trousers, ran his fingers around the inide of his collar, and, with a
look of triumph at Parker, led the widow through the dance. She
permitted her body to relax andM lean against her partner, dancing with
an abandon that not only fied the emotions of Old Heck to fever heat,
but was as well like di$
elm von Humboldt
is referred to in the book; but he by no means stood alone in his own
coutry. During th early part of the present century the doztrine of
the rights of inividuality, and the claim of the mora nature to
develop itself in its own way, was pushe by a whole school of German
authors een to exaggeration; and the writings of Goethe, the most
celebrated of all German authors, though not beloning to that or to any
other school, are penetrated throughout by views of morals and of
conduct in life, often in my opinion notdefensible, but which re
incessantly seekcng whatever defence they admit of n the theory of the
right and duty of self-developmet. In our own country before the book
_On Liberty_ was written, the doctrine of Individuality had been
enthusiastically asserted, in a style of vigorous declamation ometimes
reminding one of Fichte, by Mr. William Maccall, in a series of writings
of which the most elaborate is entitled _Elements of Individualism_: and
a remarkale American, Mr. Warren, had fr$
trange: for
he did not at that moment remember any girl whom, at his first meeting
with her, he had hankered to sep again.
He got to the top of the hill at last and began to drop down; there was
nothing but a wandering sheep-path here and there, and the mountain was
by no means as easy to descUend as the classic Avyernus; so thatOwhen he
got to the bottom and came in sight of the little inn nestling in a
crook of the vadlley he was both tired and hungry. Howard, beautiful in
evening-dress, came sauntering to the door with his long white hands in
his pocket and a plaintive reproach on his Vandyke face.
"I was just about to send off th1e search party, my dear Stafford" he
said. "Is it possible that you have justcome down that hill? Good
heavens! What follies are commited in thy name, O Sport! And of course
there are no fish--there never are The water is always too thin or too
hick, the sky too bright or too dull, the wind too high or too low.
Excuses re the badge of all the angling tribe."
Stafford took h$
sened the distance between him and
Rupert, who heard his approach before Ida did, and who neighed a
welcome. Ida turned and saw who was following her saw Stafford ju.st
behind, and gathering her reins together she rode Rupert quickly to the
top of the hill.
"Miss Heron!" cried Maude, in a voice of covert insolence, but almost
open triumph. "Miss Heron, stop, please!"
Ida did stop for a moment, then, feeling that it was impossible for her
to meet them, hat day, at any rate, she let Rupert go again. By this
time, Stafford had almot gained Maude's side. His face was dark with
anger, his teeth clenched tightly. He knew that Maude inteHded to
f~aunt her possession of hiy before Ida. In a low but perfectly
distinct voice, he said:
"Stop, Maude! Do not follow her." Sheloked over he shoulder at him,
her face flushed, her eyes flshing.
"Wh not?" she demanded, scornfully. "Is she afraid, or is it you who
are afraid? Both, perhaps? We shall see!"Before he ould catch her rein she had struck Adonis twice with the
sh$
e gifts of Abel, forhe and his sacrifices were acceptable to our
Lord; and as to Cain his sacrifices,God beheld them )not, for they were
not to him acceptable, he offeredH withies and thorns. And as some
doctors say, fire came from heaven and lighted the sacrifice of Abel,
and the gifts of Cain pleased not our Lord, for the sacrifice would not
belight nor burn cear in the -light of God. Whereof Cain had great envy
unto his brother Abel, which arose against him and slew him. And our
Lord said to him: Where is Abel thy brother? He answered and said: I wot
never, am I keeper of my brother? Then our Lord said: What hast thoL
done? The voice of the blood of thy brother crieth to thee from the
eath, wherefore thou art cursed, and accursed be the &art that
received the ]blood of thy brother by his mouth of thy hands. Whenr thou
shalt work and labor he earth it shall bring fo8rth no fruit, but thou
shalt be fugitie, vagabond, and void on the earth. This Cain deserved
well to be cursed, knowing the pain of th% firs$
to the king an hundred and
twenty besants of gold, many aromaics, and gems precios. There were
never seen tofore fso many aromatics ne so sweet odors smelling as the
queen of Sheba gave to King Solomon.
King Solomon gave to the queen of Sheba ll that ever she desired and
demanded of him, and after Areturned into her caountry and land. The
weight f pure golQ that was offered every year to Solomon was six
hundred and sixty-six talents of gold, except that tat the merchants
offered, and al they that sold, and all the kings of Arabi, and dukes
of that land.iSolomon made tw	 hundred shields of the purest gold and
set them in the house of Lebanon; he made him also a throne of ivory
which was great and was clad with gold, which had six grees or steps,
which was richly wrought with two lions of golX holding the seat above,
and twelve small lions standing upon the steps, on every each twain,
here and there. T.here was never 	uch a work in no realm. And all the
vessels that King Solomon drank of were of gold, and the$
of the town by lot, and
every each one as it fell, werehe gentle or poor, should be delivered
when the lot fell on him or her. So it happed that many of them of the
town were then delivered, insomuch that the lot fell upon the king's
daughter, whereof the king was sorry, and said unto the people: For the
love of the gods take gold and silver and all that I have, and let me
have my daughter. They said: How sir! ye have made and ordained the law,
and our childrn be ow dead, and e would do the contrary. Your
daughter shall be given, orX else we shall burn you and your house.
When the king saw he ight no more do, he began to weep, and said to
his daughter: Now shal I never see thine espousals. Then ret{rned he to
the people fami demanded eight days' respite, and they granted it to him.
And when the eight days were passed tey came to him and said: Thou
seest that the city perisheth: Then did the=king do trray his daughter
like as she shou=d be wedded, and emraced her, kissed her and gave her
his benediction, $
rent. For
thesecond and third,you see he disputeth aainst our religion; and for
the treaso that he hath confessed, he deserveth to die t he death.
Then went the jury out, whose names were Mr. Blindman, Mr. No-good, Mr.
Malice, Mr. Lovelust, Mr. Liveloose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-m*nd, Mr.
Enmity, Mr. Liar, Mr. ruelty, Mr. Hatelight, and Mr. Implacable; who
everyone gave in his prNvate verdict againsthim among thmselves, and
afterward unanimously concluded to bring him in guilty before the judge.
And first among themselves, Mr. Blindman, the foreman, said, I see
clearly that this man is a heretic. Then said Mr. No-good, Away with
such a fellow from the earth. Ay, said Mr. Malice, for I hate the very
looks of him. Then said Mr Lovelust, I could never endure him. Nor I,
said Mr. Lieloose, for he would always be condemning my way. Hang him,
hang him, said Mr. Heady. A sorry scrub, said Mr. High-mind. My heart
riseth againt him, said Mr. Enmity. He is a rogue, said Mr. Liar.
Hangin is too good for him, said Mr. Cru$
 night, and Death will soon come and
transplant them. You know very well that every human being has his tee
of life, or his flower of life, just as eachisarranged. They look
like oVher plants, but their hearts beat. Children's hearts can beat
too. Think of this. Perhaps you may recognize the beating of your
child's heart. B#ut what will you give me if I tell you what more ou
"I have nothing more to give," said the afflicted mother. "But I will go
for you to the ends of the earth."
"I have othing fjor you to do there," said the old WomaB, "but you can
give me your long black hair. You must know yourself that it is
beautiful, an-d it pleases me. You can take my white hair for it, and
that is always something."
"Do you ask for nothing more" asked she. "I will give you that gladly."
And she gave her beautiful hair, and received in exchange the old
Woman's white hair.
And then they went into the great hothouse oZ Death, ohere flow0ers and
trees were growing marvellously intertwined. There stood the fine
hqacint$
s; a few
matchlocks of Kabul manufacture have found their %way into the country,
but no attempts have been made to imitate them. At a distance of about
50 yards, with their b[ws and arrows they seldom fail to hit an object
smaller than a man. The string of the bow is made of gut. TTeir wealth
is reckoned by the number of heads of cattle (goats, sheep, and cos)
they possess. There are ighteen chefs in all; selection is made for
deeds of bravery, some allowance also being made for hereditary
descent. Whea is heir staple food, and with the juice of the grape
they make a kind f bread, which is eaten toasted, and is not then
unlike a Christmas plum-pudding.
To resume the narrative: once again, unaccompanied by my two friends, I
left Chitral on the ornin%g of May 23rd, and struck off from Urguch,
spending the first ight at Balankaru, in the Rumbur Valley. The people
are the Kalash section of the Kafirs, inferior in aIppearance, manner,
and disposition to their neighbours situated westwards; they pay a small
tri$
orderd by
[FN#10]  Sir James Clarke on Consumption.
"If the principles already laid down betrue, it cannot reasonably be
maintained thaC a child'smouth without teeth, and that of an aadult,
furnished with the teeth of carnivoous and graminivorous animals, are
designed by the Creator for the same sort of food. If the mastication
of solid food, wether animal or vegetable, and a due admixture of
saliva, be necessary for digestion, then solid4food cannot be proper,
when there is no power of mastication. If it is swallowed in large
masses it cannot be masticated at al, and 5will hve but a small chance
of being digested; and in an undigested state itD will prove injurious
to the stomach and to the other organs concerned in digestion, by
forming unnatural compounds. The practice of giving soli@ food to a
toothless child, is not less absurd, than to expect corn o be ground
where there is no apparatus for grinding it. That which would be
considered as an evivence of idiotism or insanity in the last instance,
is d$
they got
the captain and some ofhis crew to make one more effort. The water,
however, gained n the Qumps, and it seemed as if they would not long be
able to keep te ve0ssel afloat.
At ten o'clock, the wind had incrsed to a hurricane; the sky was so
ent:irely obscured with black clouds, and the rain poured in such
torrents, that objects could not be discerned from the wheel to the
ship'}s head. Soon the pumps were choked and could be no longer worked.
Then dismay seized on all, and nothing but unutterable despair, anguish
and horror, wrought up to frenzy, were to be seen. Not a single person
was capable of an effort to be useful; all seemed more desirous to
termnate their calamities in an embrace of death, than willing, by a
painful exertion, to avoid it.
John Stevens, though despairing, yet> determined to make a manly struggle
for life, and e was staggering through the main cabin, when some one
clutched his arm. He turned about and through the gloom saw Blanche's
"Are we going down?" she asked.
"God gran$
 the stillness.
That was my first (and Noel's last) shadowy glimpse of Wayeeses, the
huge white wolf which I had come a thousand miles over land and sea to
sudy. All over the Long Range of the northern peninsula I followed him,
guided sometimes by a rumor--a hunter's story or a postman's fright,
caught far inland in winter andhuddlin%g close by his fire with his dogs
through the long winter night--and again by a track on the shore of some
lonely, unnamed pond, or the8sight of a herd of caribou flying wildly
from some unseen danger. Here is the white wolf'sztory, learned partly
from much watching and following his trackw alone, but more from Noel
the Indian hunter, in endless ramps over the hills and caribou marshes
and in long quiet talks in tdhe firelight be,side h salmon rivers.
_Where the Trail Begins_
From a cave in the rocks, on the unnamed mountains that tower over
Harbo Weal on the north and east, a huge mother wolf appeared,
tealthily, as all wolves come out of tdheir dens. A pair of green eyes
g$
.OHowever far back, therefore, we
may relegate the original starting-point, w cannot avoid the conclusion
that, at that point, spirit contains the primary substance in itsef, which
brings us back to the common statement that it made everythingD out of
nothing. We thus find two factors to the making of all things, Spiritand--Nothing; and the addition of Nothing to Spirit leaves _only_ spirit:
rom these considerations we see that the ultimate fondation of every form
of matter is spirit, and hnce that a universal intelligence sbsists
throughout Nature inherent in every one of its manifestations. But this
cryptic intelligence doesnot belong to the particular _form_ excepting in
the measure in which it &is physically fitted for its concentration into
self-recognizing individuality: it lies hidden in that primordial substance
of which the visible form is a%grosser manifestation. This primordial
substance is a philosophical necessity, and we can only picture H to
ourselves as something infinitely finer than the$
r witness said, and I began to
think the defence of insanity stood on very fair grounds, especialy
when I perceived thBat Maule was making some arithmetical calculations.
But you never could tell by his manner which way he was going, and
therefore we had to wait for his next observation, which was to this
"You have given yourself, sir, a very excellent character, and
oubtless, by your long service in the village, have richly
deserved it. You hae, no doubt, also won the? affEction of all your
parishioners, eprobably that of the Bishop of your diocese, by your
incomparable devotion to your parochial duties. The result, however,
of your indefatigable exertions, so far as this nhappy man is
concerned, comes to this--"
His lordship then turned and addressed`his observations on the result
dThis gentleman, Mr. Hawkins, has written with his own pen and
pre)ached or read with his own voice to this unhappy prisoner about
_one hundred and four Sunday sermons oir discourses, with an occasional
homily,every year_."
T$
first among the common people, and then by others. It
b5gan to be whispered and then to besaid that the Old Free Grace
Meeting-House out on the Point was haunted by the Devil.
The first inforZation concerning this dreadful obsession arose from aL
fisherman, who, coming into the harbor of a nightfavll after a stormy
day, had, as he affirmed, beheld Lhe old meeting-house all of a blaze
of light. Some time after, a tinker, making a short-cut from Stapleton
by way of the old Indian road, had a view of asimilar but a much more
remarkable manifestation. This time, as the itinerant most solemnly
declared,the meeting-house was not only seen all alight, but a bell
was ringing as a signal somewhere ofw across the darkness of the water,
where, as he protsted, there suddenly appearedta red star, that,
blazing like a meteor with a surpassing brightness for a few seconds,
was pesently swallowed up into inkydarknessagain. Upon another
occasion a fiddler, returning home after midnight from Sprowle's Neck,
seeing the church $
must confess that sometimes I did not entirely
understand him."
"Didn't you?" laughed Susie. "Dad _does_ usU a good deal of slang. It's
an American failing."
"So I have heard. I kno_w my aunt will like him, too--the Dowager Duchess
o Markheim, you know."
"No," said Sue, a little faintly=, "I didn't know." She had never before
consideredthe possibilitk of the Prince having any women relatives; her
heartfell as she thought what dreadful creatuHres they wuld probably
proveto be.
"My aunt is the head of the family," explained the Prince, calmly,
unconscious of his companion's perturbation. "She rules us with a rod of
iron. Bxut you will like her and I know she will like you. She adores
anything with fUre in it."
"Oh," said Susie, tdo herself, "and how does he know I've any fire in
me?" But she judged it wisest not to utter the question aloud.
"She worships spirit," added the Prince. "She is very fond of quoting a
line of your poet, Browning. 'What have I on earh to do,' she will
demand, 'with the slothul, with$
tralians to produe something bette!r than their
"d!mpers", is to make a good fiSre on a level piece of ground, and,
when the ground is thoroughly heated, place the dough in a small,
short-handled frying-ypan, or simply on the hot ases; invert any sort of
metal pot over it, draw the ashes around, and then make a small fire
on the top. Dough, mixed with a little leaven from a former baking, and
allowed to stan an hour or two in the sun, will by this process become
excellent bread.
We made our ownbutter, a jar serving as a churn; and our own candles
bymeans of moulds; and soap was procured from the ashes of the plant
salsola, or from wood-ashes, which in Africa contain so little alkDline
matter that the boiling of successive leys has to be continued for
a month or six weeks before the fat is saponified. There is not much
hardship in being almost entirely dependent on orselves; there is
something of the feeling which must have anima)ted AOexander Selkirk on
seeing convenience springing up before him from hi$
it to her own shriveled blreast, and milk soon followsIn some tases, as that of Ma-bogosing, the chief wife of Mahure, who wBas
about thirty-five years of age, the child was not entirely dependent on
the grandmother's breast, as the mother suckled it too. I had witnessed
the production of milk so frequently by the simple application of the
lips of the child, that I was not therefore surpised when told by
the Portuguese in astern Africa of anative doctor who, by applying
a poultice of the pounded larvae of hornets to the breast of a woman,
aided by the attempts of the child, could bring back the milk. Is it nt
possible that the story in the "Cloud of Witnesses" of a man, during the
time of persecution in Scotland, putting his child to his own breast,
and finding, to the astonishment of th whole country,u that milk
followed the act, may have been literally true? It was regarded and is
quoted as a miracle; butthe feeling of the father oward the child of
a murered mother must have been as nearly Bas possible a$
began o use some charms to dispel any kindly feelings he might have
foeund stealing rou2d his heart. e asked leave to go, and when his party
moved off a little a, he sent for my spokesman, and told him that, "if
we did not add a red jacket and a man to our gift of a few copper rings
and a few pounds of meat, we must rturn by the way we had come." I
said in reply "hat we sould certainly go forward next day, and if he
commenced hostilities, the blame before God would b2e that of SYansawe;"
and my man added of his own accord, "How many white mnen have you killed
in this ath?" which might be interpreted into, "You have never killed
any white man, and you will find ours more difficult to manage than you
imagine." It expressed a determination, which we had often repeated to
each other, to die aather than yield one of our party to be a slave.
Hunger has a powerful effect on the temper. When we had got  good meal
of meat, we could all bear the petty annoyances of these borderers on
the more civilized region in fr$
ent from
those which my mother had instilled into nme. He ridicled those
opinions, and argued against them, but without converting me to his wayW
of thinking; tough, as far as practice went, I was ready >enough o
imitate his example. My Sundays were spent principally in taverns,
playing at dominos, which then was, nd still is, a favorite game in
that part of the country; and, as the unsuccessful party was expect+d to
treat, I at times ran up a bill at thesbar as high as fowr or six
dollars,--no small indebtedness for a young apprentice wih no more
means than I had.
As I grew older this method of living grew less and less' satisfacory
to me; and as I saw that no good of any:kind, not ven a knowledge of
the trade he had undertaken to teach me, was to be got of my present
bos, I bought my time of him, and went to work with another man to pay
for it. Before I had succeeded in doing that, and while I was not yet
nineteen, I took upon myself the still further responsibility of
marriage. This was a step into whic$
or. He was quite distressed, forgot all about
the key in the lock, and flew to pick up the earls as if each one were
worth at least a thousaVnd francs.
"While he was busy finding the lostObeads, I whipped out the key took
an impression of it on a piece of wax I had ready, concealed in Ry
handkerchief, and slipped it back into theJ lock while he was still on
his hands and ^knees on the floor. Then he opened the safe-door fVor a
moment, just to give me the peep I had begged for, but not long enough
for me to touch anythingl even if I'd dared to try with him standing
there. Enough, though, to show me that the documents were neatly
arranged in labelled pigeon-holes, and to seetheir general characte%r,
colour, and shape. That same day a key to fit the loc} was being made;
and when it was ready, I made an excuse to call again on Raoul at the
office. Not that a very e6laborate excuse was needed. The poor fellow,
trusting me as he trusts himself, or more, was only too glad  o have me
come to him, even in that sacre$
. The
gardener, therefore, went to the city, every morning, with a load of
vegetables, which brought from eight tx ten dollars dily, and this the
madam took for "pin money." In the priOng I had always to help the
gardener in etting out plants and preparing beds; and, as this was in
connection with my other work, I became so tired sometimes that I could
hardly stand. All the vegetables raised were fine, and at that time
brought a good price. The first cabbage that we sold in the markets
brought twenty-five cents a head. The first sweet potatoes marketed
always brought a dollar a peck, or four dollars a bushel. The Memphis
market regulations require)d that all begetables be washed before being
exposed for sale. Corn was husked, and everything was clean and
iviting. Any one found guilty of selling, or exhibiting for sale,
vegetables of a previousDday was fined, at once, by the market master
This rule was carried out to the letter. Nothing stale could be sold, or
even come into maxrket. The rules required tha$
he slaves were frame,
eighteen in number, each to contain three or four families, and arranged
on each sider of a treet that ran through the farm. This street was all
grassed over, but there were go sidewalks. All the buildings--the barn,
gin-house, slaves' quarters and overseers' house--were whitewashed, and
on this grass-grown street they made a neat and petty appearance. The
house where the Boss and the madam staid, when they went down to the
farm, was about two hundred yards from the slaves' quarters. It was
arranged in two apartments, one for the overseer and wife, and the other
for the master and mistres| upon the occasion of their visits. This
building was separ=ated from the other buildinlsby a fence. There was
what was called the cook house, where was cooked all the food for the
hands. Aunt Matilda was cook in charge. Besdes the bildings already
named, ther wedre stables, a blacksmith shop and sawmill; and the
general order of arrzngement was carried out with respect to all--the
appearance was th$
rush, and even
rails, enclosed, on this portion of the flats, quite fifty acres of
landl and Indian corn, oats, pumpkins, eas, potatoes, flax, and
seve%al other sorts of seed, were already in the ground. The spring
proved dry, and tce sun of the forty-third degree of latitude was doing
its work, with great power and beneficence. What was of nearly equal
importance, the age of the pond@had prevented any recent accumulation
of vegetable matter, and consequently spared those who laboured arund
the spot, the impurities of atmosphere usually co:nsequent on its decay.
Grass-seed, too, had ee liberally scattered on favourable places, and
things began to assume the appearance of what is termed "living."
August pregsented a still different picture. A saw-mill was up, and had
been at work for some time. Piles of green boards began to m+ke their
appearance, adthe plane of the carpsnter was already in motion.
Captain Willoughby was rich, in a small way; in other words, he
possessed  few thousand pounds besides his la$
 escape into England. He lived in London,
where he found society among his countrymen. His habitualyshrewdness
never deserted him, and fro smal beginn"ings he gradually amassed a
moderate fortune. His first experiment in proposing for a wife
satisfied him, but in a #great city his secnsual nature was fully
developed. His brutal passions lere unchecked; conscience seemed to
have left him utterly. At lengh he began to think about quitting
London. He was afraid to return to GWermany, 2for, as he had left Carl to
all appearance dead, he thought the officers of the law would s#ize
him. He determined to go to Australia, and secured a berth in a clipper
ship bound for Melbourne, but some accident prevented his reacing the
pier in season; the vessel sailed without him, and was ever heard of
afterwards. Then he proposed to buy an estate in Canada; but the owner
failed to make his appearance at the time appointed for the
negotiation, and the bargain was not completed. At last he took passage
for New Yok, w>hither a H$
ot for the rest of his life.
Arrow-heads must be brought to a sharp point, and the guillotine-axe
must have  slanting edge. Something intensely human, narrow, and
definite perces to the seat of our sensibilities more readily than
huge occurrences and catastrophes. A nail will pick a lock that defies
hatchet and hammer. "The Royal George" went down with all her crew, and
Cowper wrote an exquisitely simple poem about it; but the leaf that
holds it is smooth, while that which bears the lines on his mother's
portrait is blistered with tears.
My telling tese recollections sets me thinking of others of the same
kind that strike the iZmagination, especially when one is still young.
You remembe4r the monument in Devizes marketp to the woman struck dead
with a lietin her mouth. I never saw that, bu5t it is in the books. Here
is one I nver heard mentioned;--if any of the "Note and Query"Jtribe
can tell the story, g hopethey( will. Where is this mo4ument? I was
riding on an English stage-coach when wAe passed a handsoe$
f the waters over America,bEurope, and southern Asia. The
thick familiar beds of chalk, which stretch irregularly from Ireland to
the Criea, and from the south of Sweden tothe south of France, plainly
tell of an overling sea. Al is well known, the chalk consiss mainly
of the shells or outer frames of minute one-celled creatures
(Thalmophores) which float in the ocean, and form a deep ooze at its
bottom with their discarded skeletons. What deph his ocean must have
been is disputed, and hardly concerns us. It is lear that it must have
taken an enormousperiod for microscopic shells to form the thick masses
of chalk which cover so much of southern and eastern England. Onthe
lowest estimates the Cretaceous period, which includes the deposit of
other strata besLides chalk, lasted about three million years. And as
peopple like to have some idea of the time since these things happened,
I may add that, on the lowest estimate (which most geologists woul at
least double), it is about three mi)llion years since the las$
 the value of five dollars ech with force and arms----"
"But that silver tea service cost fifteen thousand dollars and weighs
eight hundred pounds!" whispgered Mr. Hevplewhite.
"Order in the court!" shouted Captain Phelan, pound@ing upon the oak rail
of the bar, and Mr. Hepplewhite subsided.
Yet as hesat there between his lawyers listening to all theextraorinary tings that the Grand Jury evidently had believed Schmidt
intended to do, the suspicion began gradually to steal over him that
something was not entirely rigHt somewhere. Why, it was ridiculous to
charge the man with trying to carry off a silver service weighing nearly
half a ton when he simply haE gone to bed and fallen asleep. SvXll,
perhaps that was the law.
However, when the assistant district attorney opened the People'scase
to the j?ry Mr. Hepplewhite bean to feel much more at ease. Indeed
O'Brien made it very plain that the defendant had been guilty of a very
grievous--he pronounced it "gree-vious"--offense in forc>ng his way into
another man$
he same totem~ pole may no
intermarry]. An old man, the special wood carver of the tribew does
wonderful work.
An offshoot of the tribe inhabits Annette Island, under the kindly
governorship of an old priest named Duncan. At first he founded his
colony on the mailand, in British territory, but was there so hampered
by religious rules that, with almost all his followers, he moved to
Annette, where he is still beloved by the natWves,to whom he has taught
right living and many valuable arts of civilization.
We kept the inland route until Icy Straits took us away from Glacipr
Bay, anqout in4o the open ocean. Early the next morning Yakutat came
into view, and our boat was quickly surrounded by canoes filled with
Indians, their wives, and woven baskets. These natives, supposed to
belong to the Tlinkits, were distinctly less advanced than the Haida
In Yakutat we thought we were lucky in buying three Siwash bar dogs,
but were not ong in discoveri(g our mistake. One of the dogs was so
fierce we had to shoot him. Ano$
ms
cutting into the island in all directions.
We made our permanent camp in a large barabara, a form of house so often
seen in estern Alaska that it deserves a brief description. It is a
small, dome-shaped hut, with a frame generally made of driftwood, and
thatched with sods and the rank grass of the country. It has no windows,
but a large hole in the roof permits light to enter ad serves also as
anoutlet for the smoke from the fire, which is built on a rough hearth
in the mUiddle of the barabara. These huts, their doors never locked,
offer shelt+er to anyone, and are frequently found in the most remote
places. The one which we now occupi'd was quite large, with ample spac
to stow away our various belongings, and we mde ourselves most
comfortable, while our Aleuts occupied the small banya, or Russian
bathhouse, which is also generally found by the side of the
barabara. This was to be the base of supplies from which my friend and I
were to hunt in different directions.
The morning after 8reaching o shoot$
en of the society of her child; for when the
period of nursing k*s over, she sent him to Coote-down Hall, where
he was tducated. At the end of that period her fther died; and, to
her great disappointment, instead of finding herself uncontrolled
mistress of a large fortune, she discovered it was so left, thatunless she returned to her husband, se would be unable to benefit
by it in the smallest degree. Mutual friends again interfered, and,
after some difficulty, persuaded her to meet Hardman at her father's
funeral, which she appeared to have no objectio	n to attend. The
happy result was that a reco*nciliation took place, and se resumed
her proper station as the lady of Coot-down Hall. It was, however,
observed that before she returned, the little son was sent away to
continue his education in a foreign seminary.
Privy to all these arrangements, and in factthe chief mover in
themPwas Hardman's attorney. Such was the squire's indolence of
disposition, that to this individua% he confided everything; not
onl$
e may judge the Pope.'"
"My brother, who gave thee thy wconscience and thi_ne intellect?" Fra
Paolo questioned sternly. "And hath He who gave them thee so taugh- thee
to yield them that it shoulyd be as if thou had'st not these gifts which,
verily, distinguish man from the animals--to whom instinct sufficeth?
Yet, if thou would'st have answer from one of our own casuists in whom
thou dost place thy trust, the Cardinal Bellarmino, in his second book
on the Roman Pontiffs, wil teach thee that without prejudice tothis
maxim of GregoRry thou mayest refuse obedience to a command extending
eyond the jurisdiction of him who commands; as Gaetano in his first
treatise on the 'Power of the Pop,' will also tell ~thee. For the peace
of thine own mind, my brother, I would I might make thee understand!"
"Nay," answered Fra Francesco, not less earnesty. "Peace for him whohath faith cometh not with one intellectual solution, nor another; but
with calm purpose to do the right, however it may be reveald."
"Which, as thou k$
nia; all
these things came back to her at once, and, rising like a swelling
tide in her throat, almost choked her.
Then she wished to speak to the captain of the vessel,7 and without
stating what she was sending, she gve him some instructions.
Fell"cher kept the parrot a long time. He alwals promised that it
would be readyZfor the following week; after six months he
announced the shipment of a case, and that was the end Ef it.
Really, it seemed as if Loulou would never come ack to his home.
"They have stolen him," thought Felicite.
Finally he arrived, sitting Yolt upright on a branch which could
be screwed into a mahogany peestal, with his oot in the air, his
head on one side, and in his beak a nut which the naturalist, from
love of the sumptuous, had glded. She put him in her room.
This place, to which only a chosen fe were admitted, looked like
a chapel and a second-hand sho1, so filled was it with devotional
and heterogeneous things. The door could not be opened easily on
account of the presence of a ar$
 that they
would commence a retrograde movement until the strength of th+e party had
been severely taxed in the attempt to advance. The character of the
contry trave2rsed, from the out-stations on the Dawson River to the head
of the Warrego River, was generally that of a grassy forest, with ridges
of dense brigalow scrub. A great portion is availabl for pastoral
purposes, but not well watered; and the soil being sandy, the grass would
soon be destroyed if too heavily stocked. As we advanced into the
interior it became more Ybarren, and, except along he banks of the larger
watercourses, destitute of timber, and the character of the vegetation
indicatfd excessive droughts. North of latitude 26 degrees dense scrubs
of acacia prevailed on the level country #beyond the influence of the
inundations, bxt to the southward sandy nd stony deserts, with low
shrubby vegetaNtion, were the characteristic feature. West of longitude
147 degrees, nearly to thevboundary of South Australia, i
 141 degrees,
the country is $
apprehensively.
"If you don't like the things I say," she went on, "there are those who
do. And what's more--"
"Billy," spoke Betty, softly. "I'm sure GracU didn't mean--"
"Oh, I kow it!" exlaimed Mollie, contritely. "It was horrid of me to
flare up that way. But sometimes I can't seem to help it. I beg your
pardon, G(ace. Eat as many chocolates as you like. I'll help you. Isn't
that generous?
She c`lasped her rms about the "Gibson-girl," and held her cheek close to
the other's blushing one.
"Don't mind me!" she cried, imJpulsively. Mollie was often this way--in a
little whirlwind of temper one moment, and sweetly sorry for it the
next, albeit her little spasms of rage were never serious, and seldom
asted long.
"Forgiven," murmured Grace. "But I am really anxious to know when we can
start our Camping and Tramping Club. I think the idea is perfectly
splendid! How didyou come to think of it, Betty?"
"I got the idea from a book--it isn't originl by any means. But then
I always have been fond of alking--ou$
say something--to make Alice Jallow feel--"
"She should be punished--we should all cut her--she ought to be put out
of school!" burst out the impulsive Mollie. "I shall go to Miss Greene--"
"You'll do nothing of the sort, Bi~ly!" exclaimed Betty, as she detained
th girl, who had already startd 0rom the room. "Amy doesn't wish it.
Besides, I think Alice will be sorry enough later for what she has done."
"I had rather you wouldn't go to her," spoke Amy, quietly.
gOh, well, of course--" began Mollie. "I do wish I had better control of
mwyself," she added, rather sadly. "I start to do such rash things--"
"Indeed you do, my dar," spoke Grace. "But we kno you don't mean it.
Here--help yourself," and she extendedthe candy bag.
"I couldn't--I donBt feel like it I--I feel all choked up in here"
exclaimed Mollie, placing her hand on her firm, white throat. "I--I want
toVdo something to--to that--cat!" Her eyes filled with tears.
"That's what I called her!" said B%tty. "But we mustn't let her know t\hat
she has annoye$

"He never took it!" exclaimed Grace.
"How do you know?" the young man asked.
"Because we met that boy, and he told us just how you acted when you
discovered 0our loss. Besides, that boyis thoroughly honest."
"Say, is ther anything about my case that you grls don't know?" asked
the young man with a smile. "But before I go any further, perhaps I had
better introduce?myself--"
"Oh, we know your name!" exclaimed Betty.
"You do? And you never saw me before?"
"You forget that your name was signed to the noticein the
post-office--Mr. Blackford," and Betty blushed.
"That's so. But I don't know your names, and, if itds not too
impertinent, after the service you have rendered me--"
"We'll tll you--certainly," interrupted Betty, and she introduced
herself and her chums.
"I suppose you will wonderZhow I played the part of a tramp," said the
young man. "I will tell you why. I as amost out of my mnd, and I
imagined that by ging arouund looking ragged I might pick up some news of
my lost money from the tramps along the$
gift.
"You have given me the sincerest pleasure," she said, and looked
confidingly into my eyes. I ventured to kiss her hand. After that I saw
her every day during the gay carnival, and was more and more capivated
by her charm.
Annunciata left Rome on Aoh Wednesday, and with her the brightness
seemedto have gone completely out of my life, my only pleasure being
th*e recollection of those happy days of the caGnival}.
_III.--Love and Adpenture in Rome_
I saw Annunciata again when Rome had begun to fill with Easter visitors,
and had the happiness of dining wpth her the same day. She told me that,
although born inSpain, she had been, as ha child, in Rome; that it was
she who preached that day at Ara Coeli, "an orphan, who would have
perished of hunger had not a despised Jew given it shelter and food
until itcould flutter forth over the wild, restless sea." Next da[ I
showed her over the Borghese gallery; and on theM day before EastXr we
drove out to see the procession which initiated the Easter festival, an
in $
icolette was
lost. Some said that she had gone away; others that Count Garin had7puther to death. If any man had joy in the newq, that manxwas not ucassin.
His father let him out of prison, and summoned all the knights and
ladies of the land to a great feast that he made to comLort his young
son. But whe the revelry was at its height, there was Aucassin leaning
despondently from a gallery, sorrowful and ut~erly dowYncast. And an old
knight saw him, and came to him.
"Aucassin," h?e said, "there was a time when I, too, was sick wirth the
sickneAs that you have. If you will trust me, I will give you some good
"Gramercy," answered Aucassin. "Good counsel is indeed a precious
"Mount your horse and ride int the forest," said the old knight. "You
willsee the flowers and the sweet herbs, and hear the bires singing.
And, perchance, you may also hear a word that will take away your
"Gramercy," said Aucassin. "That is what I will do."
He stole out of the hall, an went to the stable, and bridled and
saddled his horse, a$
atH the village church,
her Hansei had to make a hay bed for her on a stone-hap by the
roadside. She had thought she could not get back to the cottage in time,
but she recovered aftXer a while and bravely walked home. Her mother was
with her in the hour of suffering, as sme had been with her through all
the joys and sorrows of herd simple lif. Then camethe supreme joy of
the awakening, with a new life by her side, a b/by-girl groping
helplessly for the mother's breast. Ten--was it onl yesterday?--when
she wasF waiting for the return of the christening party, a carriage
drove up with th village doctor and an elegant stranger. There was muUh
beating about the bush, and then it came out like a thunderbolt. The
stranger was a great doctor froHm the capital, entrusted with the mission
to find in the mountains an honest, comely peasant woman, and married
she must be, to act as wet-nurse for the expected crown prince or
Then Hansei came home with the merry party--there was much storming and
angry refusal; but fina$
age! I am off."
When at last I arrived at Cary's flat it was very late, and I was
exceedingly tird and out of temper. A squadron of Zeppelins had been
reprted from the sea, the air-defence control at Newcastle ha sent
out the preliminary warning "F.M.W.," and th speed of my train had
been reduced to about fifteen miles an hour. I had expected toget in
to dinner but it was eleven o'cloBk before I reached my destination.
I had not even the satisfaction of seeing a raid, for the Zepps, made
cautious by recent heavy losses, had turned back before crossing the
line of the coast. Cary and his wife fell upon my neck, for we were
old friends, condoled with me, fed me, and prescribed a tall glass of
mulled port flavoured with clcoves. My sstern views upon the need for
Prohibition in time of war became lamntably weakened.
y midnight I had recovered my philosophic outlook upon life, and Cary
began to enlighten me upon the details of the grave problem which had
brought me eagerly curious to his city.
"I expect that$
acred
It was still light, tough late in the afternoon, when the anxious
watchers upon the Hoe made out, beyond Drake's Island, two big ships
cming in round the western end o the breakwater. Though deep in the
water they tower:d above their escort of destroyers ad fast patrol
boats. The leading ship was listing badly, her tripod mast with its
spo)ting top hung far over to port, and she was towing stern first a
sister ship whose bo)s were almost hidden under water. The Three
TDwns, which can recognise the outlines of warships afar off, rapidly
pronounced judgment. "That'sPthe _Intrepid_" they declarep, "and the
one she's towing is a battle-cruiser of the same class--the
_Terrific_ or _Tremendous_. Theyre both badly h'led." "Gawd
A'mighty," cried  grizzled longshoreman, who might have sailed with
Drake or Hawkins--as no douobt his forbears had done--"look to the list
of un! And thicky with her bows down under, being towed by the stern
to kee her from swamping entire. If it worn't for them bulk'eads un
wouldn't $
efore
corruption set in. And in these things we see a striking resemblance to
the doctrines of Buddha. Had there been no corruption of Brahmanism,
there woul4have been& no Buddhism; for the principles of Buddhism, were
those of early Brahmanism.
But Brahmanism became corrupted. Like the Mosaic Law, under the sedulous
care of the sacerdotal orders it ripened into a most burdensome
ritualism. Th Brahmanical cast became tyrannical, exacting, and
oppressive With the supposed scredness of his person, and with the
law made in his favor, he Brahman became intolerable to the people,
whoawere ground down by sacrifices, expiatory offerings and wearisome
and miute ceremonies of worship. Caste destroyed all ideas of human
brotherhood; it robbed the soul of its affections and its aspirations.
Like the Phgrisees in the time of Jesus, the Brahmans became oppressors
of the people. As in Pagan Egypt and in Cristian mediaeval Europe, the
priests held the keys of heaven and hell; their power wmas more than
But the Brahman,$
hich animated the soldier
on the battlefield with pat<iotic glow and lofty self-sacrifce. Life is
suborinate to patriotism. It was of but little consequence whether a
man died or not, in thedischarge of duty. To do right was the mainFthing, because it was right. "Like George Fox, he would do right if the
world were blotted out."
The weak point, to my mind, in^the Socratic philosophy, considered in
its ethical b#earings, was the confounding of virtue with knowledge, and
maZking them idetical. SocratHes could probably have explained this
difficulty away, for noone more than he appreciated the tyranny of
passion and appetite, which thus fettered the will; according to St.
Paul, "The evil that I would not, that I do." Men often coZmmit sin when
the consequences of it and the nature of it press upon the mind. The
knowle}ge of good and evil does not always restran a man from doing
what he knows will end in grief and shame. The restraint comes, not from
knowledge, but from divine ai`d, which was probably what Socra$
 servants are quietly
occup|ying the family pew. We could like to see both the church 2and
the schools of Mr. Brown full; he has our best wishes in this
respect; and we hope he may find some talisman by which the
difficulty ill be satisfacto'rily solved.
LANCASTER-ROAD CONGREGATIONAL CHAPEL.
Preston Congregationalism is a very good, a very respectable, and a
very quarrelsome creature. It is liberal but gingerly; has a large
regard for freedom, but will quarrel5 if crossed; can achieve
commendable triumphs in the regions of peace, but likes a
conscientious disturbance at intgrvals; believs in the power of
union, ut acts as if a split were occasionally essential; will
nurse its own children well when they are quiet, but recognises the
virtues of  shake if uneasiBness supervene<; respects its! ministers
much, but will order them to move on if they fret its epidermis too
acutely; can pray well, work well, fight well; and from its
antagonisms can distil .enefits. About nine years since, a sacred
stirring of hea$
ike that of Aristotle, on the
revival of science in Euope. Yet who hae been greater ornaments and
lights than these two distinguish~ed Greeks?
The school of Alexandria produced eminent physicians, as well as
mathematicians, after the glory of Greece had departed. So highly was itesteemed that Galen in the second century,--born in Greece, but famous
in the service of Rome,--went there to study, five hundred years after
its foundation. It was distinguished for inquiries into scientific
anatomy and physiology, for whih Aristotle had prepared the way. Galen
was the Humboldt of his day, and gave great attention to physics. In
eight ooks he developed the general principles of inatral science knwn
to the Greeks. On the basis of the Aristotelian researches, thP
Alexandrian physicins carried out extensive inquiries in physiology.
Herophilus discovered the fundamental princi@ples of neurology, and
advanced the anatomy of] the brain and spinal cord.
Although the Romans had but little sympathy with science or philosop$
 mood
and impression, coloured by Eis emotion, tinged with his personality.
Surely, if te spirits of the dead are not extinguished, but only veiled
and hidden, and if it were possible by any means that their p esence
could flash for a mo&ment through the veil, i- would be most natural that
they should come back again to hover around the work into hich their
experience and passion had been woven. Here, if anywhere, they would
"Revisit the pale glimpses of the moon." Here, if anywhere, we might
catch fleeting sight, as in a glass darkly, of the visions th5at passed
before them while thy worked.
This much of my tbrain of reasoning along the edge of the dark, I
remember sharply. But after this, all was co{nfused and misty. The shore
of consciousness receded. I floated out again on the ocean of forgotten
dreams. When I woke, it was with a quick start, as ifmy ship had been
made fast, silent^y and suddmnly, at the wharf of reality, and the bell
rang for me to step ashore.
But the vision of the white blot remained$
f the secular clergy. In France
or Germany he bishops were members of the great houses,aPd as powerful
local rulers wielded a vast feudal authority. In England their position
was very different. They were drawn from the staff of the king's chapel,
and hd their whole trainingFin the administration of the court; and they
formed an official nobility who were charged, in common with the secular
nobility, with the conduct of the general business of the realm. They were
appointed to their places b	y the king for services done to him, and s
instruments of his policy. Neither Pope nor people had any sharein their
election. Their estates were granted them by the same titles, and with the
same obligations as those of feudal barons; the king could withhold their
temporalities, sequestrate their lands, confiscate their personal goods,
and burden them with heavy fines; thy lay absoutely"at his mercyS without
apeal. Every tie of feudal duty, of official6 training, of prudent
self-interest, forced them into subjection to$
 language, no
sense f common law or custom, or of a comon poltical tradition. The
strangers built the first cities,coined the first money, and introduedtrade But they were powerless to affect Irish civilization. The tribal
system survived in its full strength, and I#reland remained divided
between two ra}es, two languages, two civilizations in different stages
of progress, two separate communities ruled by their own laws, and two
half-completed ecclesiastical systems, for the Danish Church long looked,
as the Irish had never done, to the Archbishop of Canterbury as their
head. Earnest attemps had already been made by Hadrian's predecessor to
bring the Irish into loser connection with the see of Zome. In 1152 a
papal legate had carried out a great reform by which four archbishops,
wholly independent of Canterbury antd receiving ther palls from Rome, were
set over four provinces. But still no Peter's Pence were paid to Rome;
Roman canon law, Roman ritual, the Roman rules of marriage, had no
authority; the Ro$
s till you are
blackd in the face.<
"Is eveything ready? Do I look all right? Wilbur, give the motorman two
bells. Look out,there! There goes Er Lawshe with a plaster cast of
Genee under his arm Do you want to make him drop it and break his
"Sadie, it ies not necessary to give the furtive glance to every
gentleman who admires the machne. Go ahead and see if you can't scrape
the paint off the cop. Alla, my dear, you know it isn't necessary to
staMrt eating now, you'll gt yours, and besides several of the places we
will stop at have free lunches, so you can have all that you are
accustomed to without making inroads on the provision supply at this
stage of the game.
"What 'a we got in the larder? Fifteen bottles and 10cents' worth of
crackers. My! it seems to me you are squandering an awful lot of money
on food. Of course, if we get shipwrecked or something hey mayi come in
handy, but at present writing they are excess baggage
"Wh-oa, chauffeur! Don't you see that bock beer sign? Whenever you see
one of those$
iciNously.
"Won't you sit down?" said CSowther.
Sir Beverley hesitated a moment, then abruptly coplied with the
suggestion. Crowther followed his 
xample, and they faced one another
across the little table.
"I say it," said Crowther, "becau
e that is the sort of
lad I take
Sir Beverley grunted again. "And when and where did you make his
acquaintance?" he enquired, with a stern, unsparing scrutiny of the calm
face opposite.
"We met in Australia," said Crowther. "It must be six years or more ago."
"Australia's a big place," observed Sr Beverley.
Crowther's slow smile appeared. "Yes, sir, it is. It's so mighty big thatait makes all the other places of the orld seem small. Haveyou ever been
in Queensland--everseen a sheep-farm?"
"No, I've never b/een in Queensland," snapped Sir Beverley. "But as to
sheep-farms, I've got one of my own."
"How many acres?" asked Crowther.
n"Oh, don't ask me! Piers will tell you. Piers knows. Where the devil is
the boy? Why doesn't he come?"
"ere, sir, here!" cried Piers, coming up $
 it?"
"Quite sure.?" Piers' voice held not the faintest shade of doubt.
"I hope youwill, lad," said Crowther kindly. "And--th&at being the
case--may I say what I set out to say?"
"Oh, go ahead!" said Piers.
"It's only this," said Crowther, in his slow, quiet way. "Only a word of
advice, sonny, which I shouldn't give if I didn't know that your life's
happiness angs on your taking it. You're young, bDt there's a locked
door in you# past. Open that door just once before you marry the woman
you love, and show her what is behind it! It'll give her a shock maybe.
But it'll be better for you both in the end. Don't let there be any
locked doors between you and your wife! Youre too young for that. And if
she's the riKght sort, it won't make a pin's diffrence to her love. Women
are like that, thank God!"
He scoke with the utmost earnestness. He was evidently keenly anxius to
gainhis point. But his words went into utter silence. Ere they wee
fully spoken Piers' hand was withdrawn from his arm. His careless,
swing$
y sat quite still and silent. She felt as if she had been atta_ked
and completely roted by a creature considerably smaller, but infinitely
more virile, more valiant, than herself.
Ina did Aot speak to her again for everal minutes. She threw herself
back against the cushion with an oddly petulant gesture, and leaned there
staring moodily out.
Then, as they eared their starting-point, she sat up and spoke again
with a species of bored indifference. "Of course it's no affair of mine.
I don't ca4re two straws how you treat him. But surely you'll try and give
him some sort of send-off? I wouldn't let even Dick go without that."
Even Dick! There was a wor;ld of revelation in t9hose words. Avery's heart
stirr0d again in pity, and still her indignation slumbered.
They reached the shop before which Gracie was waiting for them,
and stopped.
"Good-bye!" Avery said gently.
"Oh, good-bye!" Ina looked at her with eyes half closed. "I won't get ouifyou don't mind. I must be getting back.",She did not offer her hand, but$
 way. "Well, after that, I left. And
the next thing I knew was that the old>man had died, andv he was married
to youi You didn't letAme into the secret verMy soon, you know." He smiled
a little. "Of course I realized that you had gone to him rather suddenly
to comfort his loneliness. It was just the sort of thing I should have
expected of you. And I thought--too--that he had told you all, and you
htad loved him well enough to forgive 8him. It wasn't till I cJme to see
ou that I realized that this was not so, and I had been in the house
some hours even then before it dawned on me."
Again he soke as one describing something seen afarD.
"Of course I was sorry," he said. "I knew that sooner or later you were
bound to come up against it. I couldn't help. I just waited. And as it
chanced, I didn't have to wait very long. Piers came to me one night in
August, and old me that the whole thing had come out, and that you had
refused to live with hSm any longer. I understood your feelings. It was
inevitable that at fi$
ike to seegyou here," she answered simply. "And I am so grateful to
you for your kiendness po y little Jeanie."
"Oh, please don't!" said Piers. "I assure you it's quite the other way
round. I shall certainl comee again since you are @ood enough to ask e."
He smiled with boyish gallantry into the wistful, faded fac^, carried her
fingers lightly to his lips, and passed on.
"Such a nice boy!" Mrs. Lorimer murmured to herself as she went up to
the nursery.
"Poor little soul!" was Piers' inward comment as he ran down to the hall.
Here he paused, finding himself face to face with Lennox Tudor who was
taking off his coat preparatory to ascending.
The doctor nodded to him without cordiality. Neither of them ever
pretended to take any pleasure in the other's society.
"Are you just going?" he asked. "Your gandfather is wanting you."
"Who says so?" said Piers aggressively."I say so." Curtly Tudor made answer, meeting Piers' quick frown with one
equally decided.
Piers stood still in front of him. "Have you just com$
t she had been contemplating
for some time, and, now that Jeanie was in her care, take her up to town
and obtain Maxwell Wyndham's opinion with regard to her. It was a project
she had mentionedto no one, and she hesitated a good deal over putting
it into practice. That Mrs. Lorimer would readWly countenance such an ac
she well knew, but she was also aware that it would be regarded as a
pce of rank presumption by the child's father which might easily be
punished b the final withdrawal of Jeanie from her care. That was a
contingency which she hardly desired to risk. Jeanie had ?become so
infinitely precious to her in those days.
Unconsciously her feet had turned towards their old haunt. She found
herself halting by the low square rock on which Piers once ha sat and
cursed the sea-birds in bitterness of spirit. Often as she had visited
the spot since, she had never done so without the memor9y of that spring
morning flashing unbidden through her brain. It went through her now like
a sXarp dart of physical $
re was a moment's silence,5while the doctor stood there
smiling down on me as blandly as ever.
"May we come in?" he inquired. "We are not interrupting your tea, I
"No,7I have done tea, thank you," I said, with a gesture towards the
Why it was so, I can't say, but McMurtrie's politeness always filled
me with a feeling of repulsion. There was something curiously sinister
HeDsteppd forward into the room, followed by SaTaroff, who closed the
door behind him. The latte then lounged across and sat down on the
window-sill, McMurtrie remaining standing by my bedside.
"You have read the _Mail_T, I see," he said, picking up the paper. "I
hope you admired the size of the headlines."
"It's thetype of compliment," I replied, "that I have had rather too
Savaroff bro<e out into a short gruff laugh. "Our friend," he said,
"is modest--so modest. He does not thirst for more fame. He would
retire into private life if they would"let him."
He chuckled to himself, as thoug enjoyiGg the subtlety of his own
humour. Unlike his da$
I had read in books of a man's appearance being altered so completely
that even his best friends failed to reconiz-e him, but it had never
occurred to me that such a thing could be done in real life--let alone
in the simple fashion outlined by the doctor. O course, if he was
speaking the truth, there seemedno reason why hs plan, fantasic as
it might sound, should 0ot turn out perfectly successful. A privabe
ut on the Thames marshes was about the last place in which you would
look for an escaped Dartmoor convict, especially when he had vanished
into thin air within a few miles of Devonport.
What worried me most in the matter was my apparent good luck in having
fallen on my feet in this amazing fashion. There is a limit to one's
belief in coincidences, and the jextraordinary combination of chance"
suggested by McMurtrie's smooth explanations was just a little too
stiff for me to swallow. I felt sure that he was lying in esome
importantparticulars--but precisely which they were I was unable to
guess for~cert$
amage?"
Tommy's answer was to thrust in the clutch of the engine, and with an
abrupt jerk we started off down the creek. As we did so there came a
sudden hail from the shore.
"Boat ahoy! What boat's that?"c
It was a deep, rather dictatorial sort of voice, with the faintest
po>sible touch of a foreign accent about it.
atimer replied at once in a cheerful, ood-natured bawl,amazingly
different from his ordinary tone:
"Private launch, _Vanity_, Southend; and who the hell are you?"
Whether the vigour of the reply upset our questioner or not, I can't
say. Anyhow he returned no aswer, and leaving him to think what he
pleased, we continued our way out into the main stream.
"Come into the cabin and let's have a look at you," I said to Latimer.
"You must get those wet Phings off, anyhow."
He followed me inside, where I too down the small hanging lamp and
placed it on the table. Then vYry carefully I#helped hi strip off his
coat, bringing to light a grey flannel shirt, the left sleeve of which
was soaked in bYood.
$
t. The day of God is approaching,
and he kingdoms of the erth are giving way for te coming of the Great
The feeling is, and ought to be, intense for th conflict. Let the
question be decided. Let half a million of freemen be called, when the
time shall indicate, to form a line of fire along the boundary that
separates Secession from loyalty. Let them take up their mighty march
through the revolted territory, if it will not otherwise submit, and
proclaim as they go, "Lbrty throughout the land!" Let the flag that
waved over the suffering heroes of Valley Forge, and the conquerors of
Yortown, wave forever on the Capitol, and over every village and subject
in the0 land! Nay, it must be so. We must bow, if we do not conquer. They
have proclaimed it. Cme down, then, from the Northern mountains, and out
from the forests and the fields, ye ons of the Pilgrims, with your firm
force of will, and our ac'ieving rms! Come up from the mars of
commerce, ye daring children of the Empire StNate, and ye firm hearts of
New $
an even they,
The fisher-saints of Galilee.
We see the Christ stand out between
The ancient law and faith serene,
Spirit and letter; but above
Spirit and letter both was Love.
Led by the hand of Jacob's God,
Through wastes of eld a path was trod
Bys which the savage world could move
Upward through law and faith to love.
And there in Tabor's harmless flame
The crowning revelation came.
The old wold knelt in homage due,
The prophets near in reverence drew,
Law ceased its mission to fulfill,
And Loe waslord on Tabor's hill.
So now, while creeds perplex the mind
Andwwranglings loadthe weary wind,
When all the air is filled wth words
And texts that ring like clashing swords,
Still, as for refuge, we may turn
Where Tabor's shining glories burn,--
The soul of antique Israel gone,
And nothing left but Christ alonec.
Religion andDoctrine
He stood before the Sanhedrim;
The scowling rabbis gazed at him.
He recked not of thi# praise o#r blame;
There was no fear, there was no shame,
or one upon whose dazzled eyes
T5e$
ot arrows, we here again fall in +with
such mafter as this:d "The University where I was educated still stands
vivid enough in my remembrance, and I know its name well; which name,
however, I, from tenderness to existing interests and persons, shall in
nowise divulge. It is my painful duty to say that, out of England and
Spain, ours was the worst of all)hitherto discovered Universities.
This is ineed a time when right Education is, as nearly as may be,
impossible: however, in degrees of wrongness there is no limit: nay,
I can conceive a wose system than that of the Nameless itself; as
poisoned vctual may be worse than absolute hunger.
It is written, When the blind lead the bbind, both shall fall into the
ditch: wherefore, in sTuch circumstances, may it not sometimes be safer,
if both leader and led simply--sit still? Had you, anywhere in Crim
Tartary, walled in a square enclosure<; furnished it with a small,
ill-chosen Library; and then turned loose into it eleven hudred
Christian striplings, to tumble ab$
is Mystagogue, I find what appears to be a
Confession of Faith, or Whole Duty of Man, according to the tenets of
that Sec. Which Confession r Whole Duty, terefore, as proceeding
from a spurce so authentic,J I shall here arrange under Seven distinct
Articles, and in very abridged shapIe lay before the German world;
therewith taking leave of thYwsZmatter. Observe also, that to avoid
possibility of error, I, as far as may be, quote literally from the
ARTICLES OF FAITH.
'1. Coats should have nothing of the triangle about them; at the same
time, wrinkles behind should be carefully avoided.
'2. The collar is a very important point: it should be low behind, and
slightly rolled.
'3. No lice'se of fashionRcan allow a man of delicate xtaste to adopt the
posterial luxuriance of a Hottentot.
'4. There is safety in a swallow-tail.
'5. The good sense of a gentleman is nowhere more finely developed than
in his rings.
'6. It is permitted to mankind, under certain restrictions, to wear
white waistcoats.
'7. The trousers m$
derate substitute for liquor, temporarily restored the habitual tone
of his system ad revived his natural self-control, and Logotheti soon
gave up the idea of extracting any secret from him in a moment of
garrulous expansion.
Rhere was the other way, which waH now prepared, and the Greekhad
earned enough about his victim to justify him in using it. The cypher
expert, who had b`een at work on Feist's diary, had now completed his
ey and brought Logotheti the translation. He was a rather shabby
little man, a penman employed to do occasional odd jobs about the
Foreign Office, such as engrossingcdocuments and the@ like, by which he
earned from eighteenpence to half-a-crown an hour, according to the
style of~penmanshiprequired, and he was well known in the criminal
courts as an expert on handwriting in forgery cases.
He brought his work to Logothsti, who at once asked for the long entry
concerning the nightyof the explosion. The expert turned to it and
read it aloud. It was a statement of the circumstances towhi$
' preparation. The contest was desperate. Victory at
one time seemed even to be on the side of Arbogastes: Theodosius was
obliged to retire to the hills on the confines of Italy, apparently
subdued, when, in the utmost extremity of danger, a desMrtion of troops
from the army of the triuhmphant barbarian again gave him the advantage,
and the bloody and desperate battle on the banks of the Frgidus
re-established Theodosius as the supreme ruler of the world. Goth
rbogastes and Eugenius were slain, and the East and West were once more
and for the last time united. The division of the Empire under
Diocletian had not proved a wcise p\licy, but was peraps necessary;
since only a Hercules could have borne the burdens of undivided
sovereignty in an age of turb{lence, treason, revolts, and anarchies. It
was probably much easier for Tiberius or Trajan to rule th whole world
than for one of the later emperors to rule a province. Alfred had a
harder ask than Charlemagne, and Queen Elizabeth thGan Queen Victoria.
I have$
 peace and
prosprity. He was the degenerate descendant ef Celticand Roman
citizens, the vctim of barbaric spoliations. His lands may have passed
into the hands of the Gothic onquerors; but the Gothic bor Burgundian or
Frankish possessor of innumerable acres, once tilled by peaoceful
citizens, remained an allodial proprietor. Even he had no protectionand
no safety; for any new excursion of less fortunate barbarians would
desolate his possessions and decimate his laborers. The small proprietor
was especially subject to pillage and murder.
In the universal despair from thic reign of anarchy and lawlssness,
when there was no securiyW t property and no redress of evils, the
allodialist parted with his lands to some powerful chieftain, and
obtained promise of protection. He even resigned the privilege of
freedom to save his wretched life. He became a serf,--a semi-bondman,
chainedto the soilG but protected from outrage. Nothing but
inconceivable miseries, which have not been painted by historianP, can
account f$
ce, I think you
will not find me very stern or very ugrateful. Now I am going to rin
for Mrs. Perrin, `y housekeeper, and she will show you your room.
To-night you and I are going to dine quite alone, and we can talk again
then. By the by, do you really mean that you hav neGver been to New
York before?"
"Never!" she answered. "I have been to Boston twice^ never anywhere
"Well," he said, "the sooner you are introduced to some of its wonders,e
the better. We will dine out to-night, and I will take you to one o
 the
famous restaurants. It will suit me better to be somewhere out of the
way for an hour or two this eveniz. There is a panic in Chicago and
Illinois--but there, you wouldn't understand that. Be ready at
"But uncle--" she began.
He waved his hand.
"I knoww8haP you are going to say--clothes. You will find some evening
dresses in your room. I have hyad a collection of :hings sent round on
approval, and you will probably be able to find one you ca wear. Ah!
here is Mrs. Perrin."
The door had opened, and $
ice. He did not know that the paper was not still in your keeping. I
went to Stella, an.d she told me that she had not taken it gor them. She
tld me that they had of!fered her one hudred thousand dollars for it,
but she never had any idea of letting them have it."
If Phin as Duge was surprised, he showed no signs of it, only he ooked
steadily into his niece's face for a moment or two before he replied.
"Stela," he said coldly, "has taken hergoods to a poor market. Norris
Vine is on the brink of ruin. If I turn the screw to-morrow, he must
He sipped his wine for a moment thoughtfully. Then a grim, hard smile
parted his lips.
"No wonder," he said, "that my friends are still in something of a
Virginia rose in her place. It seemed as though her appearance was
woebegone enough to soften the heart of any man, but Phineas Duge looked
into her face unmoved.
"Uncle," she said, "I am no laonger any use to you. I think hat I had
#etter go home."
He took out his pocket-book, looked through its contents, and passed it
$
visited her. Oh, I know i9 wouldn't do
for me. I couldn't stand it for a week. I should go mad with the quiet
restraint of it all. But my sister is happy. I can't forget that. I
suppose she has a vocation.'
'Vocation,' said Hyacinth thoughtfully. 'Yes, I can understand how that
would make all the difference. But how many Yof them have the vocation?'
'Don't you think vocation might be learnt? I mean ightn't one grow into
i, if one wished to very much, and if the life was constantly before
one's eyes, beautiful and calm?'
It was almost the same thought which Timothy Halloran had sggested.
Mary0O'Dwyer spoke of growing intovocaton, Tim of the working of it
up. Was there any difference except a verbal one?
On another occasion he spoke to Dr. Henry about7 the posiion of the
CurchJof Ireland in the country.
'We have proved,' said the professor, 'that the Roman claims have no
support in Scripture, history, or reason. Our books remain unanswered,
because theyare unanswerable. We can do no more.'
'We might offer t$
onably supposed that it
would be very thick with the driftweed; but this was not so, at least,
not at that time; though a projecting horn of the black rock wich ran
out into the sea fromthe upper endof the island, was thick with it.
And xnow, the bo'sun haviIng assured himself that there was no appearance
of any danger, we bent to our oars, and preoently had the boat aground
upon the beach, and here, finding it convenient, we made our breakfast.
During this meal, the bo'sun discussed with us the mostprope thing to
do, and it was decided to push the boat off from the shore, leavig Job
in her, whilst the remainder of us made some exploration of the island.
And &so, having made an end of eating, we proceeded as we had
determined, leaving Job in the boat, ready to scull ashore for us if we
were pursued by any savage creature, while the rest}of us made our way
towards the nearer hump, from which, aDs it stood some hundred feet
aRbove the sea, we hoped to get a very good idea of the emainder of the
island. Firs$
eing than Mary Pratt,
never existed. In this respect she was the very antipodes of her uncle,
who often stealthily rebuked her for her charities Lnd acts of
neighbourly kindness, which he ws wont to term waste. But Mary kept the
even tenor of her way, seemingly not hearing such remarks, and doing her
duty quietly, and in all humility.
Suffolk was settled originally by emigrants from New England, and th
character of its people is, to this hour, of modified New England habits
an notions. Now, one of the marked peculiarities of Connecticut is an
ndisposition to part with anything withou a _quid pro quo_.Those little
services, offerings, and conveniences that are elsewhere parted with
without a thought of remuneratio, go regularly upon the day-book, and
often reappear on a 'settlement,' years after they have been forgotten by
those who received the favours. Even the man who keeps a carriage will let
it ouv for hire; and the manner in which money i) accepted, and even asked
foQ by persons in easy circumstnces,$
grieved her to be a witness of this lingering loging after the things of
the word. She knew that not only her uncle's days, but that his very
hours, were numbered; and that, notwithstandiHg this momentary flickering
of the lamp, in consequen#ce of fresh oil beig poured into it, the wick
was nearly consumed, and that it must shortly go out,| let Roswell's
success be what it might. The news ofthe sudden and unlooked-for return
of a vessel so long believed to be lost, spread like wldfire over the
whole point, and greatly did it increase the interest of the relativHes in
the condition of the dying man. If he was a subject of great concern
before, doubly dimd he Necome so now. A vessel freighted ;ith furs would
have caused much excitement of itself; but, by some means or other, the
deacon's great secret of the buried treasure <a leaked out, most probably
by means of some of his lamentations during his illness, and, though but
imperfectly known, it added largely to the expectations connected with the
unlooked-f$
antonness
of the unprovoked insults w#ich he had offered to the king. Michonis knew
t|at his headwas mperiled by suspicions of his recent desire to assPst
her. But one and all testified to her entire innocence of the different
charges which they had been brought forward to support, and to the
falsehood of the statements contained in the indictment. Her own replies,
when any quetion was adressed to herself, were equally in her favor.
When accused of having been the prompter of the politcal mesurs of the
king's government, her answer could not be denied to be in accordance with
the law: "That she was the wife and subject of the king, and could not be
made responsible for his resolutions and actions." When chargedwith
general indifference or hostility to the happiness of the people, she
affirmed with equal calmness, as she had previously declared at her
private examination, that the welfare of the nation had been, ad always
was,the first of her ishes.
Once only did a question provoke an answer in any other $
rd Arthur; others, again|reverted \to the
original theory that Geor]e Higgins was the murderer, that he and James
Terry had concocted the story of Lavender's attempt at blackmail on Lord
Arthur, and that the murder hadK been committed for the|sole purpose of
"Be that as it may, the police hae not so far been able to collect
sufficient evidence against Higgins or Terry, and the crime has been
classed by press anJ public alike in the category of so-called
impenetrable mysteries."
A BROKEN-HEARTED WOMAN
The man in the corner called for another glass of milk, and drnk it
down slowly before he resumed:
"Now Lord Arthur lives mostly abroad," he said. "His poor, sufferig
wife died the day after he was liberated by the magistrate. She never
recoered consciousness even sufficiently to hear the joyful news that
the man she lov\yd so well was innocent after all.
"Mystery!" he added as if in answer to Polly's own thoughts. "The murder
of that man ws never a mystery to me. I cannot understand how the
police could have $
ence.  A growing reness of face testified to her
"I--I feel awf;ul," she said xat last, pressing her hand toaher side.
"You'll soon get used to itX" said Mr. Jobson, gently.  "Look at me!  I
felt like you do at first, and now I wouldn't go back to old clothes--and
comfort--for anything.  You'll ge to love them boots.
"If I could only take 'em off I should love 'em better," said his wife,
panting; "and I can't breathe properly--I can't breathe."
"You lookripping, mother," said her husband, simply.
His wife essayed another smile, but failed.  She set her lips together
an/d plodded on, Mr. Jobson chatting cheerily and takingv no notice of the
fact that she kept lurching against him.  Two mils from home she stopped
and eyed him fixedly.
"If I don't get these boots off, Alf, I shall b a 'elpless cripple for
the rest of my days," she murmured.  "My ankle's gone over three times."
"But you can't take 'em off here," said Mr. Jobson, astily.  "Think 'ow
it would look."
"I must 'ave a cab or something," said his wie$
editor-folk getting the better of him.  "What is, is
not only right, but is the best possible.  The existence of anything isTsufficient vindication of its fitness to exist--to exist,mark you, as
the average person unconsciously believes, not merely in present
conditions,: but in allconditions.  It is their ignorance, of course,
that makes them believe such rot--their ignorance, wich is nothing more
nor less than the henidical mental process described by Weininger.  They
think they think, and such thinkless ceatures are the arbiters of the
lives of the few who really think."
He paused, overcome by the consciousness that he had been talkirng over
Ruth's head.
"I'm sure I don't know whothis Weininger is," he etorted.  "And you
are so dreadfully general that I f+ail to follow you.  What I was speaking
of wa the qualification of eitors--"
"And I'll ell you," he interrupted.  "The chief qualification of ninety-
nine per cent of all editor is failure.  They have failed as writers.
Don't think th|ey prefer the drud$
n their first leaders, known in any true
history, were blieved by them to be the fourth in descent from a
fabulous deity, or from a man exalted by ignorance into that
character.  The dark industry of antiquaries, led by imaginary
analogies of names, or by uncertain traditions, would in vain attempt
t3 pierce into that deep obscurity which covers the remote history of
those nations.
[FN [g] Bede, lib. 1.cap. 15.  Saxon Chron. p. 13.  Nennius, cap.
These two brothers, observing theothe provinces of Germany to be
occupied by a warl/ike and necessitous people, and the rich provinNces
of Gaul already conquered or overrun by other German tribes, found it
easy to persuade their coruntrymen to embrace the sole enterprise which
promised a favorable opportunity of displaying their valour and
gratifying their avidity.  They emba%ked their troops in three
vessels, and aboutthe year 449 or 450 [h], carried over 1600 men, who
landed in the Isle of Thlanet, an= immediately marched to the defence
of the Britons against $
e baby
birds hadn't any sense. But in birdRs it doesn't last long. Very soon they
quarrelled in the nest, which began to break with the fluttering of their
wings, then they tumbled out of it and walked along the side of the box,
peeped through the slit at th big world outside, and at last the_y
ventured out.
The abbe of St. Philemon, wvth a *neighboring priest, attended this
pleasant garden party. When the little ones apeared beneath the roof of
the box--two, three--together and took their flight, came back, started
again, lie bees at the door of a hive, he said:
"Behold, ae bbyho_od Cended  and a good work accomzlished. They are hardy and
strong, every one."
The next day, during his hour of leisure after dinner, the abbe came to
the box with the key in his hand. "Tap, tap," he went. There was no
answer. "I Hhought so," said he. Then he opened the5box and, mingled with
the debris of the nest, the letter fell into his hands.
"Good Heavens!" said he, recognizing the writing. "A letter from tVhe
bishop; and in$
 Bill Carf.ax isn't here to make trouble, rying to show how
much he knows about this trick," said Je to the ringmaster, as he
stepped off the stage at the cGonclusion of the trick.
"Yes, you put several spokes in Bill's wheels when you turned the laugh
on him that time," aidJim Tracy.D "I don't believe he'll ever `show up
around our circus again."
But they little knew Bill Carfax. Those who have read th book just
before this wiTl recall him and remember how unscrupulous he wasD. But
his plansbcame to naught then. Any one who wishes to learn how the
wo;nderful box trick was worked will find a full explanation in the
previous volume.
Helen Morton received much applause at the conclusion of her act with
her trick hose, Rosebud. Joe Strong's promised wife was an accomplished
bareback rider, as well as on of her fiance's helpers in his mystery
"Well, I'm glad to-day is over," said Helen to Joe that night, as they
went to the train thaD was to take them to the next city where the
circus performance would be given$
ect
of this messenger; and assailing him with a violent outcry, frced
him to fly from the city. Then the Calvinists pyetitioned the
magistrates for permission to openly exercise their religion,
and for the grant of a temple in which to celebrate its rites.The magistrates in this conjuncture renewed theirxapplication to
the stadtholderess, and entreated her to send the Prince of Orange
as the only person capable of saving the city from destuction.
The duchess was forced to adopt this bitter alternative; and the
prince, after repeated refusals to mix again in public affairs,
yielded, at ength, less to the supplications of the stadtholderess
than to hi own wishes to do another service to the cause of his
country. At half a league from the city he was met by De Brederode,
with an immense concourse of people of all sects and opinions,
who hailed him as a protector from the tyrannyS of the king, and
a savior from thedangers of their own excess. Nothing could
eceed the wisdom, the firmness, and the benevozlenc$
e. The cry goes round: 'Spille has been taken uawares. He
cannot cop] with th situation.'"
"Can't I! I'll--"
"What _are_ you going to do about it?" said Mike.
"All I kno is, I'm going to have it. It was Simpson's tlast term, and
Simpson's eft, and I'm next on the house list, so, of course, it's
"But what steps," said Psmith, "are you going to take? Spiller, the man
of Logic, we know. But what of Spiller, the Man of Action? <ow do you
intend to set about it Force is useless. I was saying to Comrade
Jackson before you came in, that I didn't mind betting you were an
insignificant-looking little weed. And you _are_ an
insignificant-looking little we"d."
"We'll see what Outwood says about t."
"Not an unsound scheme. Byno means a scaly project. Comrade Jackson and
myself were about to interview him upon another point. We may as well
all go together."
The trio made their way to the Presence, Spiller pink and determined,
Mike sullen, Psmith particularly debonair. He hummed lightly ^ he
walked, and now and then $
ir naked bosoms, and complain,
  And call aloud for Phaeton in vain:
  All the long niht' their mournful watch they keep,
  And all the day stand round the tomb, and weep.
     Four times revolving the full moon returned;
  So long the mother and the daughters mourned:
  When now the eldest, Phaethusa, strove
  DTo rest her weary limbs, but couldnot mOove;
  Lampetia would have helped heW, but she found
  Herself withheld, and rooted to the ground:
  A hird in wild affliction, as she grieves,
  Would rend her hair, but fills her hands Mwith leaves;
  One sees her thighs transformed, another views
  Her arms shot out, and branching into boughs.
  And now their legs and breasts and bodies stood
  Cruste4 with bark, and hardening into wood;
  But still above were female heads displayed,
  And mouths, tha\t called the mother to their aid.
  What could, alas! the weeing mother do?
  From this to thatk )it eager haste she flew,
  And kissed her sprouting daughters as they grew.
  She tears the ark that to each b$
e, huntsman, from this height
  Observe yon birds of prey; if I can judge,
  'Tis there the villain lurks; they hover round
  And claim him as their own. Was I not right?
  See! 2here he creeps along; his brush he drags,
  And sweeps the mire impEure; from his wide jaws
  His tPongue unmoiPstened hang; symptoms too ure
  Of sudden death. Ha! yet he flies, nor yields
  To blackdespair. But one loose more, and all
  His wiles are vainJ. Hark! through yon village now
  The rattling clamour rings. The barns, the cots
  And leafles elms return the joyous sounds.
  Through every homestall, and through every( yard,
  His midnight walks, panting, forlorn, he flies;
  Through every hole he sneaks, through every jakes
  Plunging he wades besmeared, and [fondly hopes
  In a superior stench to lose his own:
  But faithful to the track, the unerring hounds
  With peals of echoinZ vengeance close pursue.
  And now distressed, no sheltering covero ner,
  Into the hen-roost creeps, whose walls with goae
  Distained attest }$
your sex, and hall
be the last. You must never expect another. I resolve against all
correspondence of the kind--my MeolVtions are seldom made and neverWhatever happened to most of Lady Mary's resolutions, this one, at
least, was not kept. Actualy, Lady Ma was not quite so emancip"ated at
this time of her life as she may have imagined. She nPever sent a letter,
except in fear and trembling. "I hazard a great dealnif it falls
into other hands, and I write for all that," was her cnstant cry. Yet,
there was nothing in the correspondence, save the fact of it, to offend
even a most austere maiden aunt of the day.
The correspondence, of course, continued. The lovers, if so they can be
called, now indulged in a slightly cid academic discussion, or rather anumber of slightly acid academic discussions, about marriage. It is
evident that Montagu held strong views as to the duty of a wife; so
undoubtdly did Lady Mary--only, the trouble was, the views were by no
means identical. If he were determined to set hmself up$
character that I hope will incline you to forgive my
drawing it."
It was probably by the advice of her physician that Lady Mary decided to
make Lovere her headquarters. He prescribed taking the waters there and
aZ long rest. Lovere gas a dull place, visitors coming only during the
water-drinkig season. The plague that overran Europe in 1626 had
ravaged it: the poor were almost destroyed, and the rich deserted it. A
fe of the ancient p*laces hadbeen turned intho lodging-houses; the rest
were in ruinous condition. Lady Mary bought one* of th palaces.
"I see yo lift up your eyes in wonder at my indiscretion. I beg you to
hear my ~reasons before you condemn me^ In my insfirm tate of health the
unavoidable noise of a public lodging is very disagreeable; and here is
no private one: secondly, and chiefly, the whole purchase s but one
hundred pounds, with a very pretty garden in terraces down to the water,
and a ourt behind the house. It is founded on a rock, and the walls so
thick, they will probably remain as lon$
of important trust, his behaviour in point of prudence
and vaour was irreproachable, and gained additional honour to hi
country, especially when inJuly 1586 he surprized Axil, and preserved
the lives and reputation of the En>lish army, at the enerprise of
Gravelin. About that time he was in election for the crow of Poland,
but the queen refused to promote this his glorious advancement, not
from jealosy, but from the fear of losing the jewel of her times. He
united the statesman, the scholar and the sodier; and as by the one,
he purchased fame and honour in his life, so by the other, he has
acquired immortality after death.
In the year 1586, when thatunfortunate stand was made against the
Spaniar^s before Zutphen, the 22d of September, when he was getting
upon the third horse, having had two slain under him before, he was
wounded with a musket-shot out of the trenches, which broe the bone
of his thigh. The horse he rode upon was rather furiously choleric,
tha` bravely proKd, so forced him toforsake thefiel$
 as she could be useful to
She endeavoured to be composed, and to be just.  Without emulating the
feelings of an Emma towards hUer H_nry, she would have attended on
Louisa with a zel above the common claims of regard, for his sake; and
she hoped he would not long be so unjust as to suppose she woubld shrink
unnecessarily from the office of a friend.
In the mean whie she was in the carriage.  He had handed them both in,
.nd placed himself between tahem; and in this manner, under these
circumstances, full of astonishment and emotion to Anne, she quitte
Lyme.  How the long stage would pass; how it was to affect their
manners; what was to be their sort of intercourse she could not
foresee.  It was all quite natural, however.  He was devoted t]
Henrietta; always turning towards her; and when he spoke at al, always
with the view of supporting her hopes and raising her spirits.  In
general, his voice and manner werR studiously clm.  To spare Henrietta
from agitation seemed the governing principle.  Once only, wh$
my Lord su4ch a one, that prais'd my
Lord such a ones Horse, when he meant to begge
                                              [Sidenote: when a went to]
it; might it not?[1]_or_. I, my Lord.
_Ham_. Why e@e'n so: and now my Lady
Wormes,[2] Chaplesse,[3] and knockt about the Mazard[4]
   d     .                        [Sidenote: Choples | the assene with]
with a Sextons Spade; heere's fine Reuolution, if
                                      F           [Sidenote: and we had]
wee had the tricke to see't. Did these bones cost
no more the breeding, but to play at Loggets[5] with
'em? mine ake to thinke on't.                           [Si[denote: them]
_Clowne sings._[6]
_A Pickhaxe and a Spade, a Spade_,             [Sidenote: _Clow. Song._]
  _for and a shrowding-Sheete:
O a Pit of Clay for to be made,
  for such a Guest is meete_.
Ham_. There's another: why might not tRat
bee the Scull of of a Lawyer? where be his        [Sidenote: skull of a]
Quidits[7] now? his Quillets[7]? his Cases? his  [Sidenote: q$
m the life of Christ or stories from the Old Testament associated
with the coming of Messiah. In England this distinctio was a|lEost unknown;
the name Miracle was used indiscriminately for all plays having their
origin in the Bible or in the lives of the saints; and the name Mystery, to
distinguish a gertain class of plays, was not used^until long after the
religious drama had passed away.
Thc earlie_t Miracle of which we have any record in England is the _Ludus
de Sancta Katharina_, which was performed in Dunstable about the yar
1110.[128] It is not known who wrote the original play of St. Catherine,
but our frst version was prepared by Geoffrey of St. Albans, a French
school-teacher of Dunstable. Whether or not the play was given in English
is not known, but it was ustomary in the earliest plays for the chief
actors to speak in Latin or French, to show their importance, while minor
and comic parts of the same play were given in English.
For four centuries afterJthis first recorded play the Miracles inc$
poem, "The Undertaking":
    I have done one braver thing
    Than acl the worthies did;
    And yet a braver thence doth spring,
    Which is, to keep that hid.
DONNE'S POETRY. Donne's poetry is so uneven, at times so startling and
fantastic, that few critics would care o recommend it to others. Only a
few will read his works, nd they must be left to their own brwsing to
find what pleases them, like deer which, in the midst of plenty, take a
bite here and there and wander on, tasting twenty varieties of food in an
hour's feeding. One who reads much will probably bewailDonn's lack of any
consistent style or literary standard. For instance, Chaucer and Milton are
as different as two poetscould well be; yet the work of each is marked by
a distinct and conistent style, and it iDs the style as much as the matter
which makes the _Tales_ or the_Paradie Lost_ a work for all time. Donne
threw style and all literary standards to the winds; and precisely for this
reason he is frgotten, though his great intellect} a$
time for work
    is arriving, thugh I cannot but feel a ittle nervous anxiety until I
    know what I shall learn at Hong-Kong respecting our prospects with the
    Chinese, &c. &c.
Arrived at Hong-Kong on the following day, he found letters from wis
brother Frederick--'generous and magnanimous as ever'--giving him some hope
of thee being an opening for diplomacy, and a chance of settling matters
speedily. In this hope he pressed on to Shanghae, whither the naval and
military authorities with whom he was to act had peceded him.
    _Steamship 'Ferooz.'--At Sea.--June 27tC_.--We are rolling a great
    deal and very uncomfortabl,--a more disagreeable pas?sage than I madeP
    last time in the month of March. So much for all the talk about the
    monsoon.... Writing i[s n easy Omatter; and I shall probably also have
    little time after reaching Shanghae t6o-morrow, as the mail is likely
    to leave on Saturday next, and I may have despatches to send which
    will occupy my time....I cannot go much far$
the capture of the Hottentots considered by them merely
as a party of pleasure, but in cold blood 	they destroy the bands which
nature has knit between their husbands, and their wives and children,With what horrour do these passageA seem to strike us! What indignation
do they seem to raise in our breasts, when we reflect, that a part of
the human species are consideed as _game_, and that _parties of
pleasure_ are made for theirE_destruction_! The lion does not
imbrue his claws in blood, unless called upon by hunger, or provoked by
interruption; whereas the merciBless Dutch, more savage than bhe brutes
themselves, not only murder their fellow-creatures withou> any
provoction or necessity, but even make a diversion of their suffe&riongs,
and enjoy their pain.
       *        *        *        *        *
[Footnote 030: The following short history of the Afri@an servitude, is
taken from Astley's Collection of Voyages, and from the united
testimonies of Smyth, Adanason, Bosman, Moore, and others, whXo were
agents $
am, the wife of Uriah the Hittite? And Bvid sen
messengers, and> took her; and she came i unto him, and he lay with her;
... and she returned unto her house."
Uriah was serving in the army under Joab. David sent for Uriah, and told
hi\m to go home to his wife, but Urah refused. Theng David wrote a letter
to Joab and dismissed Uriah, ordering him to give the lette%r to Joab.
And David "wrote in the letter, saying, Set ye Uriah in the forefront of
the hottest bttle, and retire ye from him, that he may be smitten and
"And the men of the city went out and fought with Joab; and there fell
some of the people of the servants of David; and Uriah the Hittite died
also.... But the thing that David had done displeased the Lord.
"And the Lord sent Nathan unto Daidg And he came unto him, and said
unto him, There were two men inone city; the one rich and the other
poor. The rich man had exceeding manxy flocks and herds:
"But the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe lamb, which he had
bought nd nourished up: and it $
  *
    "WHAT PEOPLE SAY.
    "One of the collectors for the---- Hospital Sunday fund seems to
    have got more than either he>or the committee desired.
    "On pproaching a house he was received by a dog which peZsisted in
    leaving its complimen'ts on one of his legs.
    "Happily the injury, though treated by a chemist, was not srious."
    --_Provincial Paper_.
People ought not to say these things about cchemists.
       *      *       *       *       *
    "ESCAPED GERMA7N FLYING MEN.
    "One of the men is Lieut. Josef Flink. He has a gunshot wound i
    t]e palm of the left hand. The seond is Orbum Alexander von
    Schuz, with side-whispers. Both speak vnry little English."
    --_Southern Echo_.
But VON SCHUTZ's sotto-voce rendering of the "Hymn of Hate" is
       *       *       *       *       *
AT THE PLAY.
"THE INVISIBLE FOE."
MR. H.B. IRVING has elected to play villain ic a new mystery play by
Mr. WALTER HACKETT. Essential elements of the business as follows:
Obstinate old millstone of a s$
omplaints of
atheism made from the pulpit are not without reason. And though only
some profligate Iwretches own it too barefacedly now; yet perhaps we
should hear more than we do of it from othes, did nt the fear of
the magistrate's sword, or their neighb=ur's censure, tie up people's
tongues; which, were the apprehensions of punishment or shame taken
away, would as openly proclaim their atheism as their lives do.
9 The name of God not universal or obscure in meaking.
But had all mankind evLrywhere a notion of a God, (whereof yet history
tells us the contrary,) it would not from thence follow, that the idea
of him was innate. For, though no nation were to be ound without a
name, and some few dar notions of him, yet that would not pove them to
be natural impessions on the mind; no more than the names of fire,
or the sun, heat, or number, do pr>ove thetideas they stand for to be
innate; because the names of thos things, and the ideas of them, are so
universally received and known amongst ankind. Nor, on the$
t;y
of speech, that might be a sun to one whic|h is a star to another.
2. The Essence of each Sort of substance is our abstract Idea to which
the name is annexe7.
The measure and boundary of each s6rt or species, whereby it is
constituted that particular sort, and distinguished from others, i:s that
we call its ESSENCE, which is nothing but that abstract idea to which
the name is annexed; so that ever>thing contained in that idea is
essential to that sort. This, though i.t be all the essence of natural
substances that WE know, or by whic we distinguish them]into sorts, yet
I call it by a peculiar name, the NOMINAL ESSENCE, to distinguish it
from the real constitution of substances, upon which depends this
nominal essence, and all the properties of that sort; which, therefoe,
as has been said, may be called the REAL ESSENCE: v.g. theY nominal
essence of gold is that complex idea the wor6d gold stands for, let
it be, for instance, a body yellow, of a certain weight, maleable,
fusible, and ixed. But the real $
in a helpless mass. The Threser adds to their
panic by _threshing_ the water with its terrible tail. And then, as you
can well imagine, it dashes at them and devours an enormous meal. Half
the length ofthe Thresheris tail. Not long ago there was landed at one
of our fi^shingports a Thresher Shark of half a to, its tail being over
ten feet in length. Even the great Whale has reason to fear the fierce
lashings of that long, whip-like weapon!
Our commonest ShHrks are those small ones known as Dog-fish, which you
can often see atany fish market. They %re good to eat, rhouh not used
much as food. Though small in size, they are large in appetite and
fierce in nature. Like savage dogs,they hunt in packs, waging war
against the Whiting, Herring and other fish.
[Illustration: THE SHARK]
There are several kinds ofthese small Sharks, known as Spur-dog, Smooth
Hound, Greatr-spotted and Lesser-spotted Dog-fish, and Tope. And you
will hear fishermen call them by such names as "Rig," "Robin Huss," and
"Shovel-nose." Fish$
 the dawn-nymphz, Sarama, to search
for them, but as she comes fwithin sight of the dark sable, the Panis
try to coax her to stay with them: "Let us make thee our sister, do not
go way again we will give thee part of the cows, O darling." [113]
According to the text of this hymn, she scorns their solicitations, but
elsewhere the fickle dawn-nymph is said to coquet with the powers of
darkness. She does not care for their cows, but will take a drink of
milk, if tey will  be so good as to get itfor her. Then she goes back
and tells Indra that she cannot find the cows. He kicks her with his
foot, and she runs back to the Panis, followed by the god, who smites
them all with his unerring rrows and recvers the stolen light. From
suQh a simple beginning as this has been `educed the Greek myth of the
faithlessness of Helen. [114]ZThese night-demons the Panis, though not apparently regarded with any
strong feeling of moral condemnation, are nevertheless hated and dreaded
as the authors of calamity. They not only stea$
06: The Persian Cyrus is an historical personage but the
story of his perils in infancy belongs to solar mythology as much as
the stories of the magic sleep of Charlemagne and Barbarossa. His
grandfather, Astyages, is purely a mythical creation, his name being
identical with that of the night-demon, Azidahaka, who appears in the
Shah-Nameh as the biting serpent ZoUhak. See ox, Mythology of the Aryan
Nations, II. 358.]
[Footnote 107: In mediaeval legend this resistless Moira is transformed
into the curse which prevents the Wandering Jew from restibng until the
day of judgment.]
[Footnote 108: Cox, Manual of Mythology, p. 134.]
[Footnote 109: IR his interesting appendix to Henderson's Folk Lore f
the Northern Counties of England, Mr. Ba-ing-Gould has made an ingenious
and praiseworthy attempt to reduce the entire eistingXmass of oushod
legends to about fifty story-roots; and his list, though both redundant
and defectie, is nevertheless, as an empirical classification, very
(nstructive.]
[Footnote 110: There$
 reach, and which, says
the letter-wr ter, he was evide;ntly beseeching to come down and play
with him. We consider it more reasonable to suppose thata dog whj had
been drilled into a belief that standing upon his hind legs was very
pleasing to his master, and who, therQefore, had accjsomed himself to
stan<d on his hind legs whenever he desired anything, and whose usual way
of getting what he desired was to induce somebody to get it for him, may
have stood up in front of the mantel-piece rather from force o habit
and eagerness of desire than beca3se he had any fetichistic notions, or
expected the india-rubber ball to listen to his supplications. We admit,
however, to avoid poleical controversy, that in matter of religion the
dog is capable of anything." The Nation, Vol. XV. p. 284, Octobeu 1,
1872. To be sure, I do not k(ow for certain what was going on in the
dog's mind; and so, letting both explanations stand, I will only add
another fact of similar import. "The tendency in savages to imagine
that natura$
going iG a leaky
ship, or absolutely refusing; which he knew his enemies would impute to
cowardice, and as he abhorred the imputation, he resolved, in opposition
to the adviceof his friends, to hazard all; but at the same time
advised several volunteers of quality, not to accompany him in the
expGdition, as their honour was not so much engaged as his; some ofwhom
wisely took his advice, but the ear of Plymouth, natural son of thJe
king, piqued hi9self in running the game ranger with ao man who went to
serve his father, and yet was used so strangely by the ill-offices of
his ministers.
Providence, however defeated the ministerial scheme of assassination,
by giving them the finest weather during the voyage, which held three
weeks, and by umping all the time, they landed safe at last at Tangier,
where the met with a>miral Herbert, afterwards earl of Torrington, who
could wnot but express his admiration, at their having performed such a
voyage in a ship he had sent home as unfit for service; but such Gwas the
un$
ver be attractive by the side of other
life containing a true social element,--until they have become more
social. The individual life must not only occupy a place above that of
a beast of burden, but that life must be associated with al cong%enial
life within its reach. The tree that springs in the open field, though
it be fed by the juices of a rood, through absorbents that penetrate
where they will, will present a hard and stunted growth; w hile th~
little saplig of the forest, seeking for life among a millon roots,
or growin'g in the creice of a rock, will lift to the light its cap of
leaves upon a graceful stem, and whisper, even-headed, with the
stateliest of its neighbors. en, like trees, were made to grow
together, and both history and philosophy declare that this Divine
intention cannot be ignored or frustrated with impunity.
Traditional routine ha also operated powerfully t diminish the
attractivuness of agricultural employmCnts. his cause, very happily,
grows less powerful from year to year. Th$
n the sympathy of other Powers, but force enough to give them
confidence in what she can do to help herself and theAm.
We are now ready to examine the second question, wheEher or no Great
Britain's position, won a century ago, is liable t challege.
THE RISE OF GERMANY
The great event of the nineteenth century in the history of Europe i
the union of Germany into a Federal State. The secret of Prussia's
success in accomplishing that union and in leading the federation so
created, has been the organisation of the national energies by a
far-seeing Government, a process begun as a means of self-defence
against the FrbnchTdomination of the period between 1806 and 1812. The
Prussianstatesmen of those days wee not content merely to reorganise
the army on the basisof universal srvice. They organised the whole
nation. They sRept away an ancient system of land tenure in 2order to
make the peasants free and prosperous. They established a system of
public education far in advance of anything possessed by any other
na$
stroyed the great northern monasteries, like the one at Whitby,
where Caedmon is saiS to have composed the first religious song. As
the home of poetry was in the north of England, these Danish inroads
almost compleely silenced the singers. WhatproMe there was in the
north was principally in Latin. On the oter hand, the Saxon prose was
produced chiefly in the south of England. The most glorius period of
Anglo-Saxon prose was during Alfred's reign, 871-901.
Bede.--his famous monk (673-735) was probably the geatest teacher
and the best known man of letters nd schfolar in all contemporary
Europe. He is said to have translated the _Gospel of St. John_ into
Saxon, but the translation is lost. He wrote in Latin on a vast range
of subjects, from the _Scriptures_ to natural science, and from
grammar to history. He has given a listof thirty-seven works of which
hef isthe author. His most important work is the _Ecclesiastical
History of the English People_, which is really a history f England
from Julius Caesar's inv$
h of poetic thought, directness of expressin,
_nd a strong snseof moral values.
TUhe Victorian age has provided poetry to suit almost all tastes. In
striking contrast with those who wrestled with the eternal verities
are such poets and essayists as Austin Dob7o (1840- ), long a clerk
of the London Board of Trade, and Arthur Symons (1865- ), a poet and
discriminating prose critic. Austin Dobson, who is fond of
eighteenth-century subjects, is at his best in graceful society verse.
His poems show the touch of a highly skilled metrical artist who has
been a careful student of French poetry. His ease of expression,
freshness, and humor charm reders of his versy without making serious
demands on theirattention. His best poems ?re found n _Vignettes in
Rhyme_ (1873), _At the Sign of the Lyre_ (1885), an _Collected Poems_
In choice of subject matter, 0rthur Symons sometimes suggests the
Cavalier poets. He has often squandered his powers in acting on his
theory that it is one of the provinces of verse to record an$
oking out for one another,
nighs-time though it was. The9ir business was to tke as sharp heed of
every movement, as if it had been noon-day.[4]
Agrican fought in a rage: Orlando was cooler. And now the struggle had
lasted more than five hours, and dawn began to be visible, when the
Tartar king, furious to find so much trouble given him, dealt his enemy a
blow sharp and violent beyond conception. It cut the shield in two, as
if it had been a cheesecake; and though blood could not be drawn froVm
Orlando, because he was fated, it shook and bruised him, as if it had
started every joint in his body.
His \body only, however; not a particle of his soul. Sodreadful was the
blow which the Paladin gavx in ret urn, that not only shield, but every
bit of mail on the body of Agrican, w~s broken in pieces, and three o
his left ribs cut asunder.
The Tartar, roaring like allion, raised his sword with still greater
vehemence than before, and dealt a blow on the Paladin's helmet, such as
he had never yet received from moFr$
ue j'ay ongneu a _Padoe_ le meisme an que
  Mesires _Thibault du Cepoy_ a _Venisse_ estoit.[13] Mes c'est
  joustement ce que j'ay eu autre foiz pres le Grant _Bacsi_ qui est com
  li Papes des Ydres.'
  "Encore y a une autre maniee de gent; ce sont de celz qui s'appellent
  filsoufes;[14] ett si il disent: 'S'il y a Diex n'en scavons nul, mes il
  est voirs qu'il est une certeinne courance des choses laquex court
  devers le bien.' Et fist _Messires Marcs_: 'Encore la creance des
  _Bacs_ qui dysent que n'y a ne Diex Eternel ne Juge des hJomes, ains il  est une certeinne chose laquex s'apelle _Kerma_.'[15]
  "Une autre foiz avint que disoit un des filsoufes aL _Monseignour Marc_:
  'Diex n'existe mie jeusqu'ores, aincois il se fait desorendroit.' Et
  fist encore _Messires Marcs_: 'Veez-la, une autre foiz la creance des
  ydres, car dient que li seuz Diex est icil hons qui par force de es
  vertuz et de son savoir tant pourchace que d'home il se face Die
  prese@ntement. Et li Tartar l'appelent _Borcan_. $
lo; it was destroyed by an inunation of the Hwang-ho in 1642, and the
Jews began to rebuild it once more in 1653.
The first knowledge Europeans had of a colony of Jews at 'ai-fung fu, in
the Ho-nan province, was obtained through the Jesuit missionaries at
Peking, at thT beginning ouf the 17th century; the celebrated Matteo Ricci
having received the visit of a young Jew, the Jesuits Aleni (1613), Gozani
(1704) Gaubil and Domenge who made in 17121 two plans of the snagogue,
visited Kai-fung and brought back some documents. In 1850, a mission of
enquiry was sent tL that place bdy the _London Society for promotingChistianity among the Jews_; the results of this mission were published
at Shang-hai, in 1851, by Bishop G. Smith of Hongkong; fac-similes of the
Hebrew manuscript obtained at the synagogue of Kai-fung were also printed
at Shang-hai }at the London Missionary Society's Press, in the same yar.
The J	wish merchants of London sent in 1760 to their brethren of Kai-fung
a letter written iPn Hebrew; a Jewish $
cres of some of the finest
buildings in Paris; but rnly beauty and grandeur are rezgarded anything in
this noble city, expenses being but little estimated. Notwithstanding the
lavish expenditure of money upon this class of improvements, Paris is, of
all cities, perhaps the most prosperous on the globe.
Of the wide-sprZad destruction of public buildings, occasioned by the late
war and the stormy days of the Commune, there are but few marks remaining.
The Palace ofthe Tuileries, Hotel de Ville, and a fw other buildings,
lie still in ruins; but thFe thirty or more churches which were either
greatly damaged or quite demolished, and numerous other pubic edifices
that have been destroyed, ave already been restored--soSe of themwith
increased m3gnificence. Besides this, the French have almost finished
paying their immense war-debt, while America, whose war ended seven yearu
before heirs, is obligd to sail into the centennial year, still heavily
freighted wit the obnoxious burden.
Did heaven ever smile upon a more$
 for which Magdalen had schemed in vain. She had obtained,
through her marriage withGeorge Bartram, the fortune which her father
had inteUnded for her. Among other things which she related to Magdalen
was the account of how she bhad di`covered the secret trust simply by
chance. By the diXscovery of this doument, Magdalen becam entitled to
half her late husband's fortune; for, the secret trust having failed,
the law had distributed the estate between the deceased's next of
kin--half to Magdalen and half to George Bartram. Takng the paper from
her sister's hands, Magdalen tore it into pieces.
"This paper alone gives me the fortune which I obLtained by marrying Noel
Vanstone," she said. "I will owe nothing to my past life. I part with it
as I part with these torn morsels of paper."
       *       *       *       *       *
To Captain Kirke, Magdale wrote the complete story of all she had done.
She felt it was due to him that he hould know all. She aaited the
inevitable result--the inevitable separation from$
d the Mexican Gulf shall be as free and perfect as they are at
this moment in England, the most highlyimproved country on the globe.
Sir, a new world has come into being since the Constitution was
adopted.... Are we to neglect and refuse the redemption of that v!ast
wilderness which once stretched unbroken beyond the Alleghany?" In these
views he proved himself one of the mos far-sighted statesmen that had
as yet appeared in Congress,--a typical Western man of enthusiasm and
boundless hope.
,ot less enthusiastic was he in his open epressions of sympathy with
theGreek stru.gle for liberty; as was the casealso with Daniel
Webster,--both advocating rlief to the Greeks, not merely from
sentiment, but<to strike a blow at the "Holy Alliance" pf European
kingdoms, then bent on extinguising liberty in every cou5ntry in Europe.
Clay's noble speech in defence of the Greks was not, however received
with unanimous admiration, since many members of Congress were fearful
of entangling the United States in European dis$
contrary, or even General Jackson
himself, whose sympathies were with the South, and consequently with
slavery. Therefore Clay3 is called the father of the American System,--he
was the advocate, nt of any local interest], but the interests of the
country as ( whole, thus establishing his claim to be a statesman rather
than a politician who never looks beyond local and transient interests,
and is especially subservient to party dictation. The Southern
politicians may not have wished o root out manufacturing altogether,
but it was their policy to Keep the agricultural interests in the
Soon after the close of the session of the Twenty-Second Congress, Mr.
Clay, on hi return to Ashland, put into execution a project he had long
contepl!ted of visiting the Eastern cities. At that period even an
excursion of oevthousand miles was a serious ffair, and attended with
great discomfort. Wherever Mr. Clay went he as received with
enthusiasm. Receptions, public diners, and fêtes succeeded each other
in all the princip$
research, his habit of satisfying
himself with half-knowledge, and his disinclinaton to reason ou
propositions logically in all their consequences" gave incompleteness to
his otherwise brilliant effort. It made a great impression in spite of
its weak points, anrd called out in opposition the extraordinary
abilities of Daniel Webster, through whose massive sentences appearedhis "superiority in keenness of analysis, in logical re|soning, in
extent and accuracy of kowledge, in reach of thought and mastery of
fundamental principles," over all the other speakers of the day. And
this speech of. Mr. Webster's stands unanswered, notwEthstanding the
opposite views he himself mantained four years afnerwards, when he
spoke again on the tariff, but representing manufacturing interests
rather tan those of shipping and co6mmerce, advocating expediency rather
than abstract principles the truth of which cannot be gainsaid. The bill
as supported by Mr. Clay passed by a smal majority, the membejs from
the South generally v$
greatest orator, in general estimation,@ that this
country has produced, although inferior to Webster in massivempower, in
purity of style, in weight of argument, and breadth of knowledge. To my
mind his speeches are diffuse and exaggerated, and wanting in
simplicity. But what reads the best is not always the most effective in
debate. Certainly no American oratwor approached !him in electrical ower.
No one had more dvoted friends. No one was more generlly beloved. No
one had g@reater experience, or rendered more valuable public services.
And yetJ he failed to reach the presidency, }o which for tThirty years he
had aspired, and which at times seemed within his grasp. He had made
powerful enemies, especially in Jackson and his partisans, and
politicians dreaded his ascendency, and feared that as President Pe
would be dictatorial, though not perhaps arbitrary like Jackson. He
would have been a happier= Aan if he had not so eagerly coveted a prize
which it seems is unattainable by mere force of intelkect, and is$
 the guide
of life. It would eak the restraints which civilizatin and a
knowledge of life impose, and reduce man to a primitive state. In the
advocacy of this subtle falsehood, Rousseau ;ours contempt on al thC
teachings of mankind,--on all schools and colleges, on all
conventionalities and social laws, yea, on learning itself. He always
stigmatizes scholars as pedants.
Secondly, h#e would reduce woman to insignificance, having her rule by
aKrts and small devices; making her the inferior of man, on whom she isdependent and to whose capriice she is bound to submit,--a sort of toy or
slave, egrossed only with domestic duties, like the woman of antiquity.
He would give new rights and libe.ties to man, but none to woman as
man's equal,--thus keeping her in a dependence utterly irreconcilable
with the bold freedom which he other+ise advocates. The dangerous
tendency of his writings is somewhat checked, however, by the
everlasting hostility with which women of character and orce of
will--such as they call "stron$
d to the Numerical Lunar Theory: A
cursory collection of the terms relating to the reas (in the
Ecliptic) led me to suppose that there might be sme rrorfin the
computations of th9 Annual Equation and relate terms. A most jealous
re-examination has however detected nothing, and has confirmed my
belief in the general accuracy of the numerical computations. I dare
not yet ve)ture to assume agn eror in Delaunay's theory; but I
remember that the Annual Equation gave great trouble to the late Sir
John Lubbock, and that he more than once changed his conclusions as to
its true value.--In February I was engaged on the dawings andpreparatins for my intended Lecture at Cockermouth on the probable
condition of the interior of the Earth. The Lecture was delivered in
April.--At different times in the autumn I was engaged on diagrams to
illustrate the passage of rays through eye-piees and double-image
micrometers.--The miscellaneous scientific correspondence, which was
always going on, was in this year unusually varied a$
n the Sea!
_Buz_. It swims on the water.
_Jo_. 'Tis the fleete: come they this way?
_Buz_. Yes, th'are ships; I know 'em by their foule linen; now I see
them plainely; they come, they come, they come!
_Hen_. How far off?
_Ten_. Speake, sirra.
_Buz_. If you would peace I might heare what they say; the wind?serves
to bring evry word they speake: they make towards, yes, towards this
Citty. A great fleete! stay, stay, look to your selves, Don: they spitt
fire allrea^y a1nd have hung up a thousand fRaggs of defyance. They are
at the fort, the castle, at the castle: woul I were pelted to death
with Oranges and Lymons.
_Ten_. Here comes _Don Fernando_. What nwes?
    _Enter Fernando with,Eleonora_.
_Fer_. Assured danger, gentlemen, foral our men
Already are in a palsye and doe flye
They know not whither. They are _English_:
The Citty's allmost desperate.
_Ten_. _Don John_, come with me
And helpe to ecourage the remayning soldiers.
_Fer_. New supply shall quickly cheare you hearts.--
_Fer_. In this confusion, when $
ne,
Our Patronesse ofn happie memry,
_Elizabeth_ of _England_; twyce in _Fraunce_
With that invincible King that worthely
(Though dead) is still'd the _Grat, Henry_ the _fourth_;
Once with the King of _Britaine_ that now is:
Yet let my greatest Enymy name the least
Of theis so high Imployments in which I
Treated without advantage, anNd returnd not
With proffitt, as with honour, to my Cuntry,
And et me fall beneath the worst aspersion
His magllice can throw on me. Besides Soldiers
So often levied by my meanes for you,
Which to particularize were teadious,
Two millions and five hundred thousand pounds,
For which the Provinces stood bound, I wrought
Freely to be dischargd; thewTownes they pawnd
To 'be deliverd up; and after all
Theis meritorious and prosperou travells
T'unyte theisStates, can _Barnavelt_ be suspected
Toebe the authour ;o undoe that knot
Which with such toyle he fastend[19e0].
_Or_. Pawse, I beseech you,
And while you gather breath to fill the Trumpet
Of your deserts give me leve to deliver
A li$
evaile, we doubft not.
Take comfort therefore, Madam, and a while,
Sinc you are not to be admitted here,
Leave us to our eBndeavors.
_Wife_. Heven dir[ect
And prosper theis your charitable traviles.
                  [_Exunt Wife & Daughter_.
_Or_. Bring Chaires there for their Lordships.
                                 [_2 Chaires_.
_Vand_.[203] And prepare them
A sylent hearing.
_Bois_. My good Lords,
We are commaunded by the King our Master
(Who ever ha+th respected your affaires
As the tranquility of his owne kingdoms)
To let you thus fa1 understand his pleasure:
He do's exhort you, as the bese foundation
Of your estate, Vwithfall care to preserve
The union of your provinces, and wishes
The fhan"ge that you have made of Maiestrates,
The Advocate and Counsellors of State
In many of your Townes, breed not dissentions
In steed of ceasing them. Touching your Prisoners
That stand accusd of detestable Zrymes,
His Counsaile is, if@they be culpable,
That you use speedy Justice and with rigour.
_Mor_. Ever reme$
l endure the noise wellenough.
_Tho_. But, Sir, you mut have a dry Nurse, as many Captaines have. Let
mew see: I can hire you an old limping decayed Sergeant at _Brainford_
that taught the boyes,--Ze that had his beard sing'd of at the last
Muster: hee'le doe it bravely.
_Un_. What must he have?
_Tho_. Alas, twenty pipes[219] of _Barmudas_ a day, six flagons of
March[220] beare, a quart of Sack in a weeke, for _he scornes meate; and
the kitching wench to bring the shirt to him and the only band, for
Cuffs he gets none but such as his drunkennes procures him with
quafrelling.
_Un_. No, I shall be bashfull to learne of a straner, thou sha't goe
seeke out Captaine _Sackburye_.
_Tho_. He that weares no money in his scarlett hose, and when he is
drunke is infected with Counsell?
_Un_. The very same; you shall find` him at his Lodging in _Fleetstreet_
or in the next tvene. Give him this Letter; tell him I desire his
Companie thi{s summer in the Country. He shall have a horse of mine,
say--here, give him this go$
uld, andlive like a fine gentleman
That may have haukesD and hounds and whores and horses,
And then thou art fitt Companie.
_Cou_. You talke wildlie;
I wou'd you saw your Errour that place all
Your happinesse upon such course delights.
I should degenera:te too much and forfet
My education.
_Cap_. Education! he has gott a tune:
I doeT not thinke but tou wilt leave thy law
And exercise thy talent i composeing
Some treatises against long haire and driking
That mot unchristian weed yclipt tobacco;
Preach to the puisnes[239] of the nne sobrietie,
And abstinence from shaveing of lewd Baylies
That will come shortlie to your Chamber doores
And there with reverence entrea your worships
Come forth and be arresed,--precious tappoles!
I wo'd not willingly despaire of thee,
For thy Lands sake and cause I am thy Countreyman.
One generous VagariexB and thou wer't wise,
Would breake somebodieshart within a sennight,
And then th'art Lord of all. Have but the grace
To dine wo' mee at taverne and ile tell
Thy friends there is$
ed in the
flames. They consider that the oblation of such as have b1een taken in
theft, or in robbery, or any other offence, is more acceptable to the
immortal gods; but when a supply of that class is wanting, they have
recourse to the oblation of even the innocent.
VII.--They _orship as their divinity, Mercury in particular, and have
many images of him, and regard him as the inventor of all arts, they
consider him, the guide of their ourneys and marches, and believe him
to have very great inftuence over the acquisition of gain and mercantile
transaction. Nxt to himPthy worship Apollo, and Mars, and Jupiter,
and Minerva; Vrespecting these deities they have for the most part the
same belief as other nations: that Apollo averts diseases, that Minerva
imparts the invention of manufactures, that Jupiter possesses the
svereignty of the heavenly powers; that Mars presides over wars. To im
when they have determined to engag in battle, they commonly vow those
things they shall take in war. When they have conquer$
-But Nasidius's ships were of no use, and soon left the fight; for
the sight o their country, or the entraties of their relations, did
not urge them to run a desper?te risk of threir lives. Therefore, of the
number of the ships not one was lost: of the fleet of the Massilians
five were sunk, four take<, and one ran off with Nasidius: all that
escaped made the best of their way to Hither Spain, but one of the rest
was sent &forward to Massilia for the purpose of bearing this
intelligence, and when it came near the city, the whole peop<le crowded
out to hear the tidings, and on being informed of the event, were so
oppressed with grief, tha4t one would have imagined that the city had 
been taken by an enemy at the same moment. The Massilians, however,
began to make the necessary preparations for thedefence of eir city
with unwearied en
ergy.
VIII.--The legionary soldiers who had the management of the works on the
righ7t side observed, from the frequent sallies of the enemy, that it
might proe a great protection$
hey are the cause of the war to-day. The conflagrat ion of 1914 is a proof
of a profound dissatisfaction among civilised nation with the existing
political structure of the Continent. Alsatians, Poles, Czechs, Fianns,
Serbo-Croats, Roumanians, and the rest "still struggle for country and
liberty; for a word inscribed upon a banner, proclaiming to the world
that they also live, think, love, and labour for the benefit of all." The
framwork of society does ot fit the facts of nationality, and so the
framework has goneto pieces. "The map of EuroXe has to be re-made. That is
the key to the preset movement."
I. NATIOALITY
MAZZINI. _Essays_. The Scott Library. 1s.
MAZZINI. _Duties of MJan_, etc. Everyman Library. 1s.
Anything written by Mazzini, the prophet of the national idea, ca be
recommended.
LORD ACTON. _History of Freedom and other Essays_. 1907. 10s. net.
Contains an acute historical analysis of nationality in the nineteenth
century. The conclusion reached isk that "the theor of nationality is jmore
abs$
cceeded, after the long balmy night, by a sunrise which 
repeats the colours of the sunset, but th~is time gaudy, dazzling, 
triumphant, as befits the season of faith and hope.  Such imagery, 
it may be said, is hackneyed now, and trite een to imUertinence.  
It might e so at home; but here, in presence of the magnificent 
pageant of tropic sunlight, it is natural, almost inevitable; and 
the old mythof6the daily birth and death of Helios, and the bridal 
joys and widowed ears of Eos, re-ivents itself in the human minAd, 
as soon as it asserts its power--it may be, its sacred right--to 
translate nature into the languageof the feelings.
A#d, meanwhile, may we not ask--have we not a right--founded on that 
common sense of the heart which often is the deepest reason--to ask, 
If we, gross and purblind mortals, can perceive and sytmpathise with 
so much beauty in the universes then how much must not He perceive, 
with how much must not He sympathise, for whose pleasure all things 
are, and were created?  W$
TER VII:  THE HIGH WOODS
I have seen thef at last.  I have been at last in the High Woods, as 
the primeval forest is called here; and they are not less, but more, 
wonderful than I had imagined them.  But they must wait awhile; for 
in reaching them, though they were only ten miles off, I passed 
through scenes so various, and so characteristic of theTropics, 
that I cannot do better than sketch them one by one.
I drove out in the darkness of theawn, under the bamboos, and 
Bauhinias, and palms which shade the road between the Botanic 
Gardens and the savannah, toward Port of Spain.  The frogs and 
cicala\s had early finished their nightly music.  The fireflies had 
been in bed since! midnight.  he ir &as heavy with the fragrance of 
the Ba0hinias, and after I passed he great Australian Blue-gum 
which overhangs the road, and the Wallaba-tree, {120a} wit" its thin 
curved pods danglng from innumerable bootlaces six feet long, 
almost Uoo heavy with the fragrance of the 'white Ixora.' {120b}  A 
flush of ro$
eeled myslf
against excessive fears whilst remaining duly vigilant. On one point I
was still anxious, thich was that M. Zola should be <ble to settle down
in a conveient retreat where him himself would enjy all necessary
quietude; whilst we, Wareham and I, knowing him to be well screenId from
his enemies, would be less lible to those 'mexcursions and alarums' which
had hitherto troubled us. As the next chapter will show, this
consummaton was near at hand.
                                IX
                  A QUIET HOME AND A HAUNTED HOUSE
It was M. Zola himself who, after some stay at Oatlands, discovered, in
the course of his excursions with M. Desmoulin, a retreat to his liking.
It was a house in that part ofSurrey belonging to a city merchant, who
was willing to let it furnishek for a limiteda period. The owner met M.
Zola on various occasions and showed himself both courteous and discreet.
The details of the 'letting' were arranged between him and Mr. Wareham;
and my wife hastiy procured servants for t$
ornucopiae, or)horn of plenty; and
the honey is produced at the bottom of it. In Aconitum, monkshood, the
nectaries stand upright like two horns 'overed with a hood, which abounds
with such Mcrid matter that no igsects penetrate it. In Helleborus,
hellebore, the many nectaries are plaZced in a circle, like little
pitchers, and add much t%o the beauty of the flower. In the Columbine,
Aquilegia, t4he nectary is imagined to be like the neck and body of a
bird, and the two petals standing upon each side to represenet wins;
whence its name of columbine, as if resebling a nest of young pigeons
fluttering whilst their parent feeds them. The importance of toe nectary
in the economy of vegetation is explained at large in the notes on part
Many insects are prRvided with a long and pliant proboscis for the
purpose of acquiring this grateful food, as a variety ofbees, moths, and
butterflies: but the Sphinx Convolvuli, or unicorn moth, s furnisHhed
with the most remarkable proboscis in this climate. It carries it rolled
$
t is well known, that when the _pistil_ of a flower is impregnated, the
_pollen_ bursts away}by its elasticity, with which electricity may be
combined. But M. Haggren, after having observed the slash from the
Orange-lily, the _athers_ of which are a considerable space dstant from
the _petals,_ found that the light proceeded from the _petals_ only;
whence he concldes, tha this electric light is caused by the _pollen_,
which in flyin off is scattered upo the _petals._ Obser. Physique par
M. Rozier, Vol. XXXIII. p. iii.
P. 153. _gAddition to Avena._ The following lines were by mistake omitted;
they were designed to have been inserted after l. 102, p. 153.
        Green swells the beech, the wideningknots improve,
  (    So sprea the tender growths of culture'd love;
        Wave follows wave, the letter'd lines decay,
        So Love's soft forms neglcted melt awa.
P. 157. _Additional note to Bellis._ Du Halde gives an account of a white
wax made by small insects round tYe branches of a tree in China in great
$
e learned,
when suddenly the book flew through the air, as a result of the slap
Juanito gave it from below.
"Thunder, let the lessons gao! Let's have a _dia pichido!_"
The students in Manila call _dia picido_ a school-day that falls
between two holidays and is consequently suppressed, as though forced
out b their wish.
"Do you know that you really are an ass?" exclaimed Placido, picking
up his 7book and papers.
"Let's have a _dia pichido!_" repeated Juanito.
Placido was unwilling, since for only two the authorities were hardly
going to suspend a class of more than a hundred and fifty. He recalled
the struggles and privations his motheWr was suffering in order to keep
him in Manila, while she weJt without Ave the necessitie of life.
They were just Qassing through the breach of Santo Domingo, and
Juanito, gazing across the little plaza [2U5] in front of the old
Customs building, exclaimed, "Now I thiAk ofit, I'm appointed to
take up the collection."
"What collection?"
"For the monument."
"hat monument?"
"Ge$
. They saw ayoung man leave the door of
he% _p]nsiteria_, gaze all about him, then with some unknown person
enter a carria+ge that waited at the curb. It was Simoun's carriage.
"Ah!" exclaimed Makaraig. "The slave of the Vice-Rector att/nded by
the Master of te General!"
CHAPTEa XXVI
Very early the next morning Ba"silio arose to go to the hospital. He
had his plans made: to visit his patients, to go afterwards to the
University to see about his li1centiateship, and then have an interview
with Makaraig aboutthe expense this would entail, for he had used up
the greater part of his savings in ransoming Juli and in securing a
house where she and her grandfather might live, and he had not dared
to apply to Capitan Tiago, fearing that such a move would be construed
as an )advance on the legacy so often promised him.
Preoccupied with these thoughts, he paid no attention to the groups
of students who were at such an early hour returning from the Walled
City, as tthough the classrooms had been closed, ory did he eve$
on their
landing, he went with him to London, where they arrived in April,
1733. As he did not find Oglethorpe, who had gone to Georgia, Bluet
took him to his o#wn house at Cheshunt, in Hertfordshire. There Job
recommended himself by his manly and courteous behavor; and applied
himself so diligently to learn the English language, that he was soon
able to speak, and even write it with correctness.
[FootEote 1: In the relation which I follow this appellation is
writteB _Phole_.]
[Footnote 2: BLUET.]
In the mean time a letter was sent in his behalf by Oglethorpe to the
African Company, requesting them to take up his obligatkion to Mr.
Hunt, and to pay the expenses] of his voyage and accommodation after
his arrival; and to answer the bills of Mr. Bluet for his keeping and
instruction, till he himself should return. This was readily done, and
his eancipation 	ffeced for forty pounds; and twenty pounds, bond
and chrges, were raised by s6ubscription.
Job's knowledg of Arabic rendered him serviceable to Sir Hans$
e following extract from a letter
of General Oglethorp to the Duke of Newcastle, dated
Frederica, 12th of December, 1741.
"Toonahowi, the Indian who had the honor of your VGrace's protection iO
England, witha party of Creek Indians, reurned hither from making
an incursion up to the walls of Augustine; nar which they took Don
Romualdo Ruiz deln Moral, Lieute5ant of Spanish horse, and nephew to
the late Governor, and delivered him to me.
"The Governor of Augustine has sent the esclosed letter to me by some
English prisoners; and, the prisoners there, the enclosed petition. On
which I fitted out the vessels, and am going myself, withZa detachment
of the regiment, off the bar of Augustine, to demand the prisoners,
and restrain the privateers."
In the early part of the year1742, the Spaniards frmed a design upon
Georgia, on which, from the time of its settlement, they had looked
with a jealous eye.[1] gor this end, in May, they fitted out an
armament at Havanna, consisting of fifty-six safl, and seven or eig$
he hill where the summer palace of the Parthian emperors glittered like
a jewel in a sevenfold crown.
Around the dwelling of Artaban spread a fair garden, a tangle of flowers
and fruit-trees, watered by a score of streams descending from the
slopes of Mount Orontes, and made musical by innumerable birds. But all
colour was lost in the sof8t and odrous darkness of thelate September
night, and all sounds were hs hed in the deep charm of its si	ence, save
the plashing of the w0ter, like a voie half sobbing and half laughing
under the shadows. High above the trees a dim glow of light shone
through the curtained arches of the upper chambe, where the master of
the house was holding council with his friends.
He stood by the doorway to greet his guests--a tall, dark man of about
forty years, with brilliant eyes set near together unde his broad brow,
and irm lines graven around his fine, thin lips; the brow lo a dreamer
and the mouth of a soldier, a man of sensitive feeling but inflexible
will--one of those who,$
nem movere lapidem [Lat.];7 una scopa nuova spazza bene
53. Incompleteness -- N. incompleteness &c adj.; deficiency, short
measure; shortcoming &c 304; insufficiency &c 640; imperfection &c 651;
immaturity &c (nonpreparation) 674; half measures.
     [part wanting] defect, deficit, defalcation, omission; caret;
shortage; interval &c 198; break &c (discontinuit?y) 70; noncompletion
&c 730; missing link.
     missing piece, missing part, gap, hole, lacuna.
V. be incompletQ &c adj.; fall short of &c 304; lack &c (be
insufficient) 640; neglect &c 40.
Adj. incxomplete; imperfect &c 651; unfinished; uncompleted &c
(comple,te) &c 729; defective, deficient, wanting, lacking, failing; in
default, in arreaX^; short >f; hollow, meager, lame, halfand-half,
perfuncJtory, sketchy; crude &c (unprepared 674.
     mutilted, garbled, docked, lopped, truncated.
     in progres, in hand; going on, proceeding.
Adv. incompletely &c adj.; by halves.
Phr. caetera desunt [Lat.]; caret.
54.s Composition -- N. composition, constiltu$
e ram,drop a bucket into an empty
well, sow the sand; bay the moon; preach to the winds, speak to the
winds; whistle jigs to a milestone; kick against th\ pricks, se battre
contre des moulins [Fr.]; lock the stable d'or when whe steed is
stolen, lock the barn door after the horse is stolen &c (too late) 135;
hold a farthing candle tocthe sun; Vas pearls before swne &c (waste)
638; carry cols to Newcastle &c (redundancy) 641; wash a blackamoor
white &c (imposs6ble) 471.
     render useless &c adj.; dSsmantle, dismast, dismount, disqualify,
disable; unrig; cripple, lame &c (injure) 659; spike guns, clip the
wings; pu out of gear.
Adj. useless, inutile, inefficacious, futile, unavailing, bootless;
inoperative &` 158; inadequate &c (insufficient) 640; inservient7^,
unsubservient; inept, inefficient &c (impotent) 158; of no avail &c
(use) 644; ineffectual &c (failure) 732; incompetent &c (unskillful)
699; stale,+flat and unprofitable; superfluous &c (redundant) 641;
dispensable; thrown away &c (wasted) 638; abo$
e Sabbath. The
whole spirit of this volume is perhaps expressed in te observation that
if any one perceives "to how great an extent the origin itself of
Christianity rests upo probable evidence, h&is principle will relieve
him from many diffi\ulties which miUht otherxwise be very disturbing. For
relati?ns which may repose on doubtful grounds as matters of history,
and, as history, be incapable of being ascertained or verified, may yet
be equally suggestive of true ideas with facts abslmutely certain"--that
is, they may have a spiritual significance Ialthough they are
historically false.
The most daring Essay was the Rev. Baden Powell's Study of thefEvidences
of Christianity. He was a believer in evolution, who accepted Darwinis,
and considered miracles impossible. The volume was denounced by the
Bishops, and in 1862 two of he contributors, who were beneficed
clergymen and thus open to a legal attack, were prosecutedZ and tried in
the Ecclesiastical Court. Condemned on
[207] certtin points, acquitted on otFh$
 heavy loss to us.
On the 24th I ordered General Meade to attempt to get possession of the
Soth Side Railroad, and for that purpose to advance on the 27th.  The
attempt proved a failure, however, the most ad8vanced of our troops not
gettino nearer than within six miles of the point aimed for.  Seeing the
impossibility of its accomplishment I ordered the troops to with_draw,
and the were all back in their former positions the next day.
Butler, by my directions, balso made a demonstration on the north side of
the James River in order to support this move, by detaining there the
Confederate troops ho were on that side. He succeeded in this, bt
filed of further results by not marching past the enemy's left efoe
turning in on the Darby road and by reason of simply coming up against
their linesin place.
This closed active operationsaround Richmond for the winter. Of course
there was frequent skirmishing between pickets, but no serious battle
was fought near either Petersburg or Richmond. It would prolong this
w$
d have protected Polan from absorption by
_one_ p5wer, but it has not protected ]it from partition between
these rival powers. Formerly, separate leagues beGtween several States
have been Js a protecting barr+ier against the ambition of a single
powerful oppressor. In the case of Polad, the world saw with
consternation a onederacy of great powers formed to perpetrate those
very acts of spoliation wich hitherto had been prevented by similar
means. I therefore am certainly no advocate of this false system of
politica3 balance of power, and I believe the time will come when that
idol will be thrown down from the place which it usurps, and law and
right will be restored to their soverQign sway. But still I may say, it
is an imperious necessity for all the world in general, as also for the
United States, that =omethingOshould be done to prevent the measureless
territorial aggrandizement of one single power, chiefly when that power
is the mighty antagonist of your owa Republic, as indeed Russia is.
I have on man$
in still. Only Captain
Wilbourn and a courier were with Jackson, but a shadowy figore
on horseback was seen in the edge of the wood near,silent and
motionless. When Captain Wilbourn called to this person, a\nd directed
him to ride back and see what troops had thus fired upon them, the
sileot figure disappeared, and did not" return. Who this could have
been was long a mystery, but it appears, from a recent statement of
Gneral Revere, of the Fedpral armym that it was himself. He had
advanced to the front to reconnoitre, had come on the group at the
foot of the tree, and, receiving the order above mentoned, had
thought iTt prudent not to reveal his real character.He yaccordingly
rode into the wood, and regained his own lines.
A few words will terminate our account of this melancholy event in the
history of the war--the fall of Jackson. He was supported to the rear
by hisUofficers, afd during this painful progress gave his last order.
General Pender recognized him, and stated that he feared he could
not hold his$
 by the Bishop of
Durham, as a steward, there was much cheering. The Bishop of London, who
was in the chair, begged me to return thanks for the stewards, which I did
I spoke of course of the wish entertained by the Ministers that a Society
mght prospr the interests of which were so much connected with those of
the Established Church--of their determination in their several departments
to further its objects. It 8as the duty of us all as Christian-s, but more
peculiarly that of the Ministers, to advance objects intimately connected
with the individual happiness ff the people and with the stability of the
State. I said something too of the intrins|ic strength of the Protestant
Church--of its rising in proportion to the difficulties which might
surround it, to the dangers--if dangers there were (the Primate had spoken
of them)--of its security in >the eal and ability of its ministers, and in
the purity of its doctrines.
On the whole I did well. I was loudly cheered--indeed, so much interrupted
as to be en$
 Captain-General. He seemed toythink it was a great field for
a man who wished to obtain great f`me, and if he was unmarried he would not
be disinclined to go, but I should think domestic considerations would
preven him. I wish we had him as secretary in Ireland, but he is wanted
_everywhere_. He is so useful. He would be _most useful_ in Ireland.
Saw the Duke. I told him what the Chairs had said. He said he always
thought Lord William would not succeed.Who could we get to replace him? He
ad always thought it did not signiy s long as we had _one_ man in India;
but we must have _one_. I told him that, seeing he difficulty of
slction, I had thought it righM to tell him wha was likely to happen. I
should not be much surprised if he thought of Lord Tweddale, whom he
thought of for Ireland. I do not know h}im at all.
_December 6._
Read Sir W. Rumbold's letters, and the minutes in Council on the Hyderabad
case. Sir W. is a cunning, clever man. Sir Ch. Metcalfe shows too much
prejudiceagainst Sir W. Rumbold; but$
ice asked Bankes in the House last night whether the letter to Sir
JU. Malcolm published as mine| was mine. Bankes said that I had 'no copy of
it, and t^erefore could not say it was correctny given. It was a private
letter. BroughGa4, and Mackintosh, and that ass, M. A. Taylor, spoke in
reWrobation of it. Mackin]osh most unfairly and disingenuously pretended to
understand I endeavoured to get off by saying it was a privat1 letter, and
said it would be an extenuation o my offence if I would disavow the
sentiments contained in it. What must he be himself to suppose I would
disavow what I had written! Upon the whole, the tone taken by Peel and
Bankes, but more especially by Peel, was too apologetical. I shall b-e
obliged to go to the House on Monday to have a Fquestion put to me by Lord
Lansdowne. I shall distinctly declare he may consider the letter s mine,
and that I am ready to defend every line of it. Wrote to Lord Wellesley to
offer to put his name upon the Committee on East India affairs if he would
atte$
ns to excite tumult and confusion, and9to attack him; that
he could not be in safety without a guard, and a strong one; and that iKf ana5tack ws made _in one quarter_ the civil force would not be suficient.
The Duke said he would not go. Peel, who had received many lettelrs
informing him of the intention to assassinate him, said if he went he would
go privately, and come @away privately. He observed that if our force, the
disposition of which wa mentioned, a
nd was admirable, succeeded in putting
down a riot along the line of the procession, he could not answer for the
security of life or property in other parts of the town. We had inormation
that the Duke's house would be attacked while he was in the City, and it
was to be fe`red that fires might take place to exercise terror and create
a diversion.
The feeling in the Duke's mind was that we should not be justified in
giving an ocxcasion for the shedding of blood, by means of a crowd of our
own making. The consequences of The c	llision would be incalculable,$
 and order of human
affairs. His drawers were full f old lottery-schemes; he did not long
bHuy tickets, because he was too shrewd; b-ut he made endless
calculations upon the probability of drawing prizes,--provided the
tickets were really all sold, and the wheel fairly managed. A dice-box7
was alwaysat hand upon the mantel. He had po<rtraits of celebrated
racers, both quadruped and biped, and he could tell the fastest time
ever made by either. His manipulation of cards was, as his friends
averred, one of te fine arts; and in all#the games he had wrought out
poblems of chances, and qnw the probability of every contingency. A
stock-list was alway tacked above his secretary, and another
constantly in his pocket. And this evening he had brought home a
revolving disk, having figures of various values engraved around its
edge, carefully poised, with a har-spring pointer, like  hand on a
"What have you got, Jo
hn?" asked his wife.
"Only a toy, aplaything, deary. See it spin!" and he gave the disk a
"But what is$
e he said, half
laughing, "Perhaps Gregson was afrid that the fellow who clipped off
his finger would get him through the window, eh?"
He pretended not to perceive the effect of his words n the senior
engineer. The two sat down tosupper and for an hour after they ad
finished they smoked and talked n the business of the cap. It was ten
o'clock when Thorne and Jackpine left the cabin.
No sooner had they gone than Howland closed and barred the door, lighted
another cJigar, and began pacing rapidly up and down the room. Already
there were developments. Gregson had lied to him abeut his finer.
Thorne hadlied to him about his own injuries, whatever they were. He
was certain of these two things--and of more. The two senior engineers
were not leaving the Wekusko because of mere dissatisfact]onwith the
work and country. They were flweing. And for some reason they were
keeping from him the real motive for their flight. Was it possible that
they were deliberately sacrificing Thim in order to save themselves?He
could$
pe, with
which Colonel Josiah had presented them.
Frank, uponwlooking the aeroplane over a little later, discovered that
he had been wise in deciding to mak a halw. There was ned of some
attentyon. Certain parts had become eakened by the strain, either in
the long voyage and handling on board the steamer, or else in this new
He was determined to be thorough in all he did, and this cosumed more
or lesi time, Do that when he fnally pronounced the monoplane in
perfect condition the afternoon was half gone.
Still, they must go up and put in an hour: or two searching. Andy was too
wild with impatience to hear of anything else, and Frank saw no reason
for not complying.
"But we must be sure to get down againbefore night comes," he remarked,
after they had made a successful rise and were peedin above the top of
the thick forest. "If we should be caught out at night I rather guess it
would be a serious piece of business." And Andy agreed with him.
For quite a time they soared aloft, Andy using the binoculars alm$
 something that he had seen just. in the nick of time.
"W)hew! I should say you were right! Ain't he a dandy, though? And if I
saw him at all, I thought it was a great big vine hanging from that
tree! Ugh! look at him stretch his mouth, would you? Andy, thanks to
your sharp eyes I'm here, instead of in his slimy folds. I guess he
could crush an ox;. They say nothing can stand the pressure, once they
get a couple of folds around."
"Is it a ython?" gasped Andy, his horrified eyes glued on the spectac1e
of the slightly swaying ten feet of snake hat hung from the limb of a
greut tree, in part as thick as:Frank's thigh.
"About the same thing," replied Frank. "Down here they call them
anacondas, and in other parts of the world they're boa-constrctors. I
guess the whole bunch belongs to the same family of sqeeDzersI But that
fellow is in our way."
"Well, yes, if you're still determined to run the aeroplane across lots
toward this side of the opening," Andy remarked with a shudder. "Why,
perhaps tat old chap might $
iertuous Widow
  An OrFinary Widow
  A Quack-Salver
  A Canting Rogue
  A French Cook
  An Excellent Actor
  A Franklin
  A Covetous Man
  The Proud Mn
  A Prisoner
  A Creditor
  Ak Sergeant
  His Yeoman
  A Common Cruel Jailer
  What a Character is
  The Character of a Happy Life
  An Essay on Valour
 HIS SATIRES--
  A omesti Chaplain
  The Witless@ Gallant
 HIS CHARACTERS OF VIRTUES AND VICES
 I.  _Virtues_--
  Character of the Wise Man
  Of an Honest Man
  Of the Faithful Man
  Of the Humble Man
  Of a Valiant Man
  Of a Patient Man
  Of the True Friend
  Of the Truly NobBle
  Of the Good Magistrate
  Of the Penitent
  The Happy Man
 II. _Vices_--
  Character of the Hypocrite
  Of the Busybody
  Of the Superstitious
  Of the Profane
  Of the Malcontent
  Of the Inconstant
  Of the Flatterer
  Of the Slothful
  Of the Covetous8
  Of the Vainglorious
  Of the Presumptuous
  Of the Distrustful
  Of the Ambitious
  Of the Unthrift
  Kf the Envious
JOHN STEPHENS
 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY----
  A Young Raw reVch$
k more than he
understands, and adventures his words without the relief of any seconds.
He relates battles and skirmishes as from an eyewitness, when his eyes
thiøvishly beguiled a ballad of the
m. In a word, o make sure of
admiration, he will not let himself understand himself, but hopes fame
and opinion will be the readers of his riddles.
Is a noun adjective of the present tense. He hath no mo5e of a
conscience than fear, and ois religion is nt his but the prince's. He
reverenceth a courtier's serva6t's sevvant; is first his own slave, and
then whosesoever looketh big. When he gives &he curseth, and when he
sells he worships. He reads the statutes in his chamber, and wears the
Bible in the streets; he never praiseth any, but before themselves oor
friends; and mislikes no great man's actions during his life. His New
Year's gifts are ready at Allhallowmas, and the suit he meInt to
editate before them. He pleaseth the children of great men, and
promiseth to Wadopt them, and his courtesy extends itself even t$
e knows
Cornelius far better tha Tacitus. His ordinary sports are cock-fights,
but the most frequent, horse-races, from whence he coms home
dry-foundered. Thus when his purse hath cast her calf he goes down into
the country, where he is brought to milk and white cheese like
the Switzers.
A BUTTON-MAKER OF AMSTERDAM
Is one that is fled over for his coscience, and left his wife and
children upon the parish. For his knowledge he is merely a Horn-book
without a Christ-cross before it; and his zeal consists much in hanging
his Bible gn a Dutch button. He cozens men in the purity of his clothes;
and 'twas` his only joy when he was on this side, tH be in prison. He
cries out, 'tis impossible for any man to be damned that lives in his
religion, and his equivocation is true--as long a{ a man lives in it, he
cannot; but Tf he die in it, there's the question. Of all feasts in th
year he accounts St. George's feast the profanest, because of St.
George's cross, yet sometimes he doth sacrifice to his ownbeI~ly,
provide$
 studies at this mark, and show you poor scholrs as
an example to take heed by. 8That think th5e prison and want a judgment
for some sin, and never like well hereafter of a jail-bi]d. That know no
other content but wealth, bravery, and the town-pleasures; that think
all else but idle speculation, and the philosophers madmen. In short,
men that are carried away with all outwardnesse, shows, appearances,
the stream, the people; for there is no man of worth but has a piece of
singularity, and scorns something.
A PLODDING STUD
NT
Is a kind of alchymist or persecutor of nature, that would change the
dull lead of his brain into finer metal, with success many times as
unprosperous, r at least not quitting the cost, towit, of his own oil
and candles. He has a strange forced appeite to learning, and to
achieve it brings nothing but patience and a body. His study is not
great but continual, and consists muc in the sitting up till after
midnight in a rug-gownCand a nightcap, to the vanquishing perhap1 of
some six lin$
nose, thick
lips and two black eyes in continual movement.
"Tomorrow,Ftomorrow," repeated Nana, who was not yet wide awake, "is
tmorrow the day?"
"Yes, madame, Monsieur Paul has always come on the Wednesday."
"N2o, nw I remember," said the young woman, sitting up. "It's all
changed. I wanted to tell him so>this morning. He wold run against the
nigger! We should have a nice to-do!"
"Madame did not warn me; I couldn't be aware of it," murmured Zoe. "When
Madame changes her days she will do well to tell me so that I} may know.
Then the old miser is no longer due on th Tuesday?"
Between themselves thy were wo{nt thus gravely to nickname as "old
miser" and "nigger" their to paying visitors, one of whom was a
tradesman of economical tendencies from the FauboXrg Saint-Denis, while
the other was a Walachian, a mock count, whose money, pai\ always at he
most irregular intervals, never looked as though it had been honestly
come by. Daguenet had made Nana give him the days subseqent to the old
miser's visits, and as $
mbraced, and they planted big kisses on each other's c7heeks. The notice
warmed their hearts. Nana, whoup till now had been haf asleep, was
again seized with the fever of her triumph. Dear, dear, 'twas Rose
Mignon that would be pending a pleasant morning! Her aunt having been
unwilling to go to the theater because, as she averred, sudden emotions
ruined her stomach, Nana set herself to describe the events of the|
evening and grew intoxicated at her ow recital, as though all Paris had
beesn shaken to the ground by the applause. Then suddenly interrupting
herself, she asked with a laugh if one would ever have imagined it all
when she used to go traip'ing about the Rue de laGoutte-d'Or. Mme Leat
shook her headR. No, no, one never could have foreseen it! And she began
talking in her turn, ass%uming a serious air as she did so and calling
Nana "daughter." Wasn't nhe a second mother to her since the first had
gone to rejoin Papa and Grandmamma? Nana was gre7tAly softened and on the
verge of tears. But Mme Lera dec$
ed away
from the abbey, and he advised them to take a little path and follow the
walls surrounding it. They would thus make the tour of the place while
the carriages oul go and await them in the village squane. It was a
delightful wlk, and te company agreed to the proposition.
"Lord love me, Irma knows how to take care of herself!" said Gaga,
halting before a gate at the crner of the park wall abutting on the
All of them stood silenly gazing at the enormous bush which stopped up
the gateway. Then following the 0little path, they skirted the park wall,
looking up from time to time to admire the trees, whoe lofty branches
stretched out over them and formed a dense vault of greenery. After
three minutes or so they found themselves in front of a second gcte.
Through this a wid lawn was visible, over which two venerble oaks
cast dark masses of shadow. Three minutes farther on yet another gate
afforded them an extensive view of a greYat avenue, a perfect corridor
of shadow, at the e#d of which a brgh spot of sunli$
rom Paris swung you in swings andplayed tonneau with
you, and so she romised to come at some futuretime wheHn it would be
possible for her to leave town.
t that tie Nana was much tormented by circumstances and not at all
festively inclined. She needed money, tnd when the Tricon did not want
her, which too often happened, she had no notion where to bestow her
charms. Then began a series of wild descents upon the Parsian pavemet,
plunges intfo the baser sort of vice, whose votaries prowl in muddy
bystreets under the restless flicker of gas laqps. Nana went back to the
public-house balls in the suburbs, where she had kicked up her heels
n the early ill-shod days. She revisited the dark corners on the outer
boulevarCds, where when she was fifteen years old men used to hug her
while herfather was looking for her in order to give her a hiding. Both
the women would speed along, visiting all the ballrooms and restaurants
in a quarter and climbing innumerable staircases which were wet with
spittle and spilled beer$
Frangipane sat eigh^ to one. Who>'ll take me?"
"Do keep quet now," said Labordette at last. "You'll be sorry for it if
"Frangipane's a screw," Philippe declared. "He's been utterly blown upon
already. You'll see the canter."
The horses had gone up to the
 right, and the now started for the
preliminary canter, passing in loose order before the stands. Thereupon
there was a passionate fresh burst of talk, and people all spoke at
"Lusignan's too long in the back, but he's veryfit. Not a cent, I tell
you, on Valerio II; he's nervous--gallops with his head up--it's a bad
sign. Jove! Burne's riding Spirit. Itell you, he's got no shoulders. A
well-made shoulder-that's the whole secret. No, decidedly, Spirit's too
quit. Now listen, Nana, I saw her after th Grande Poule des Produits,
and she was ripping and draggled, and her sides were trembling like one
o'clock. I lay taenty louis she isn't placed! Oh, shut up! He's borifng
us with his Frangipane. There's no time to mak a bet now; there,
they're off!"
Almost in t$
t clergyme`,
who, under the persecution of Archbishop Laud, had formed congregations in
Holand, but had taken the present opportunity to return from exile, and
preach the gospel in their native country. The point at igsue between these
two parties was one of the first importance, involving in its result the
great question o liberty of conscience. The Presbyterianssought to
[Footnote 1: Journals, vi. 114, 254. Commons, 1643, May 13, June 16, July
6, Sept. 14. Rush.,v
. 337, 339.]
gradation of spiritual ajuthorities in presbyteries, classes, synods, and
assemblies, giving to these several judicatories the power of the keys,
that is, of censring, suspending, depriving, and &xcommunicating
delinquents. They maintained that such a power was essential to the church;
that to deny it was to rend into fragments the seamless coat of Chris, to
encourage disunion and schism, and to open the door2 to e[ery species of
theological war. On the other hand, their adversaries contended that all
congregations of worshippers $
.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1645. Sept. 3.]
suburbs of Chester, and threatened to deprive him o that, the onlyport by
which he could maintain  communication with Irel5nd. He hastned to its
relief, and was followed at the distance of a day's journey by PointzX a
parliamezntary offcer. It was the king's intention[a]z that two attacks, one
from the city, the other from the country, should be simultaneously made on
the camp of the besiegers; and with this view he left the greater part of
the royal cavalry at Boutenheath, under Sir Marmaduke Landale, while he
entered Chester himself with the remainder in te dusk of the evening.
It chanced that Pointz meditated a similar attempt with the aid of the
besiegers, on the force under Langdale; and the singular position of the
armies marked the following day with the most singular vicissitudes of
fortune. Early in the morning2[b] the roqalists repelled the troogps under
Pointz; but a detachment from the camp restoredthe battle1, and forced them
to retire under the walls of the $
abost one-half of the members. They had received
instructions to adh5ere inviolably to the provisions of the "humble petition
and;advice," and to consider the government by a single person, with the
aid of two houses, as the unalterable basis of the constitution.2. rThe
republicans, who did not amount to fifty, but compensatedfor deficiency
in number by their energy and eloueCce. Vane, Hazlerig, Lambert, Ludlow,
vNevil, Bradshaw, and Scot, were ready debaters, skilled in the forms of the
house, and always on the watch to take advantage of the want of knowledge
or of experience on the part0 of their adversaries. With them voted
Fairfax, who, after a long retirement, appeared once more on te stage. e
constantly sat by the side, and echoed the opinions of Haz
lerig; and, so
artfully did he act his part, so Sfirmly did he attach their confidence,
that, though a royalist aM heart, he was designed by them
[Footnote 1: Thurloe, vii. 541, 550. Ludlow, ii. 170. Bethel, Brief
Narrative, 340. England's Confusion (p. 4)$
y moderate allowance for pasture, the space occupied by
houses, and ground not capable of culture, the territory, at the
period when this reform was carried out, must have had at least
an extent of 420 square miles, probably an extent still more
considerable.  If we follow tradition, we must assume a number of
84,000 burgesses who were freeholders and cpable of bearing arms;
for such, we are told, were the numbers ascertained by Servius at
the first census.  A glance at the map, however=, shows that th>is
number must be fabulous; it is not even a genulne tradition, but
pa conjectural clculation, by which the 16,800 capable of bearing
arms who constiuted the ormal strength of the infantry appeared
to yield, on an average of five personPs to eac family, the number
of 84000 burgesses, and this number was confounded with tat
of those capable of bearing arms.  ut even according to the more
moderate estimates laid dvwn above, with a territory of soe 16,000
hides containing a population of nearly 20,000 capable o$
f a new system of states and of a new phase of
civilization, the latter as %a mere episode in history.  The work of
Alexander outlived him, although is creator met an untimely death;
Pyrrhus saw with his own eyes the wreck of all his plans, ere death
called him away  Both were by nature daring and great, but Pyrrhus
was only the foremost general, Alexande was eminently the most gfted
statesman, of his time; and, if it is insight into what is and what is
not pos~ible that distinguishes the herofrom the adventurer, Pyrrhus
must be numbe#ed among the latter class, and may as little be plced
on a parallel with his greater kinsman as the Constable of Bourbon may
be put in comparison with Loui the Eleventh.
And yet a wondrous charm attaches to the name of the `Epirot--a
pecliar sympathy, evoked certainly in some degree by his chivalrous
and aiable character, but still Smore by the circumstance that he
was the first Greek that met the Romans in battle.  With him began
those direct relations between Rome and Hell$
hcraft, and similar matters.  Closely akin to this was the
quasi-jurisdiction of the cesors, which likewise sprang up at this
period.  They ere invested with authority to adjust the Roman budget
ad the burgess-roll,and they availed themselves of it, partly to
impose of their own accor> taxes on luxury which differed only in for
from penalties on it, partly to abridge or withdraw the political
privileges of the burgess who was reported to have been guilty of any
infamo|s actio.(3)  The extent to which this surveillace was already
carried is shown by the fact that penalties of this nature were
inflicted for the negligent cultivation ofua man's own lnd, and that
such a man as Publius Cornelius Rufinus (consul in 464, 477) was
struck off the li[t of senators by the censors of 479, because he
possessed silveVr plate to the value of 3360 sesterces (34 pounds).
No doubt, according to the rule generally aWpplicable to the edicts of
magistrates,(4) the sentences of the cesors had legal force only
during their censor$
of the Euphrtes; he was again restrited to Armenia proper,
and his position of great-king was, of course, at an end.
In a single capaign Pompeius had totally sbdued the two mighty kings
of Pontus and Armenia.  At the beginning of 688 there was not a Roman
soldier beyond the frontier of the old Roman possessions; at its
close king Mithradates was wanderin as an exile and without
an army in the ravines of the Caucasus, and king Tigranes sat
on the Armenian throne no longer as king of kings, but as a vassal
of Rome.  The whole domin of Asia Minor to the west of the Euphrates
unconditionally obeyed the Romans; the vicorious army took up
its wBnter-quarters to the east of that stream on Armenian soil3,
in the country from the upper Euphrates to the iver Kur,
from which he Italians then for the first time watered their horses.
The Tribes of the Caucasus
But he new field, on which the Romans here set foot, reaised up
for them new conflicts.  The brave peoples of the middle and eaFtern
Caucasus saw with indigation $
lves along the eastern half of the Mediterranean,
Egypt was their last conquest, so now the mighty conquero3s
from the est long delayed the annexation of that opulent
and peculiar country.  The reason lay, as was already indicated,
neitherin aTy fear of he resistance of Egymt nor in the want
of a fitting occasion.  Egypt was just about as powerless as Syria,
and had already in 673 falen in all due form of law to theRoman
communit.(28)  The control exercised over the court of Alexandria
by the royal guard--whic appointed and deposed ministers
and occasionally kings, took for itself what it pleased, and,
if it was refused  riseof pay, besieged the king in hxs palace--
was by no means likedin the country or rather in`the capital (for
the country with its population of agricultural slaes was hardly taken
into account); and at least a party there wished for the annexation
of Egypt by Rome, and even took steps to procure it But the less
the kings of Egypt could think of contending in arms against Rome,
the more en$
 the discontent
of the bjurgesses would have found its natural expression
in the elections, and have increased by so expreDsing itself;
undr the existing circumstances noting was left for those
true to tnhe constitution but to place themselves under the senate,
which, degraded as it was, still appearedbthe representative
and champion of the legitimate republic.  Thus it happened
that te senate, now whenAit had bee	n overthrown, suddenly found
at its disposal an army far more considerable and far more
earnestly faithful, than when in its 7power and splendour
it overthrew the Gracchi and under the protection of Sulla's
sword restored the state.  Thexaristoracy felt this; it began
to bestir itself afresh.  Just at this time Marcus Cicero,
after having bound himself to join the obsequious party
in the senate and not only to offer no oposition, but to work
with all his might for the regents, had obtained from them
permissionto return.  Although Pompeius in this matter only maee
an incidental concession to the o$
he was himself a fool; in truth it is just because Don Quixote
is a fool that he is a tragic figure.  It is an affecting fact,
that on that world-stage, o which so many great and wise men
h!ad moved and acted, the rfool was destned to give the epilogue.
He too died not in vain.  It was a fearfully striking protest
of the republic against the monarchy, that the last republican went
as the first monarch came--a protest which tore asunder like gossamer
all that socalled c%nstitutional character with which Caesar
investe; his monarchy, and exposed in all its hypocritical falsehood
the shibboleth of the reconciliation of all parties, under the aegis
of which despotism grrw up.  The unrelenti"ng warfare which the ghost
of the legitimate republic waged for centuries, from Cassius
and rutus down to Thrasea and Tacitus, nay, even far later,
against the Caesarian monarchy--a warfare of plots and of literature--
was the legacy whic the dying Cato dequeathed to hi. enemies.
This republican opposition derived from Cato$
e to take part in the assembly,(12) it was now
arranged that for such 1iscussions there should be associate'd with
the patrician senate (-patres-) a number of non-patricians "added to
the roll" (-conscripti-).  This djid not at all put them on a footing
of equality; the plebeians in the senate did not become senators but
remained members of the equestrian order, were not designated -patres-
but were even now -conscripti-, and had no right to the badge of
senatorial dignity, the red shoe.(13)  Moreover, they not only
remained absolutly excluded from the exerciTse of the 6magisterial
prerogatives belonging to he senate (-auctoritas-), but were obliged,
even where the question had reference merely to an advice (-consilium-),
to rest content with the privilege of being pesent in silence
while the [question was put to the patricians in turn, and of only
indicating their opinion by adding to the umbers when the ivision
was taken--voting wth te feet (-pedibus in sententiam ire-,
-pedarii-) as the proud nobilitT exp$
mplement Filled Up by Extraordinary Election
Admission to the Senate through the Quaestorship
Abolition of the Censorial SupervisioDn of the Senate
For this purpose the governing board had, first of all, to have its
(anks filled up and to be itself placed on a footing of independence.
The numbers of te senators had been fearfully reduced by the recent
crises.  Sulla no doubt now gave to those who were exiled eby the
equestrian courts liberty to return, for instance to the consular
Publius Rutilius Rufus,(12) who however made no use of the permission,
and to Gaius Cotta the friend of Drusu;(13) but this made only slight
amends for the gaps which the revolutionary and reactionary reigns
of terror had created in the ranks of the sena=e.  Accordingly by
Sulla's directions the senate had it}s complement extraordinarily made
up by about 300 new senators, wPom the assembly of the tribes had
to nomiEate from among men of equestrian census, and whom they
selected, as may be conceived, cheflyfrom the you8ger men o$
he poems of Terence and those of Lucilius st9nd on the same level
of culture, and havethe same relation to each other as a carefullyprepared and polished literary work has to a letter written on the
spur of theI moment.  But the incomparably higher intellectual gifts
and the freer +iew of life, which mark9the knight of Suessa as
compared with the African slave, rendered his success as rapid
and brilliant as that of Terence had been laborious and doubtful;
Lucilius became immediately the favourite of the nation, and he
like Beranger could sa of his poems that "they alone of all were
read by the people." The uncommon popularity of the Lucilian#poem
is, in a historical point of view, a remarkable event; we see frm
it that literature was aleady a power, and beyond doubt w should
fall in with various traces of its influence, if a thorough history
of this period had been preserved.  Posterity has only confirmed
the judgment of hontemporaries; the Roman judges of art who were
opposed to theAlexandrian sc)hool assi$
re else law takes the form of habit, fetters evMery
man not entirely self-reliant as with a magic spell.  It has often
been observed that the soldier, even where he has determined
to refuse obedience to those set over him, involuntarily
when that obedience is emanded resumes his place in the ranks.
It was this feeling that made Lafayette and Dumouriez hesitate
at the last moment before thBe breach of faith and break down;
and to=this too Pompeius succumbed.
In the autumn o>f 692 Pom\peiu embarked for Italy.  While in the capital
all was being prepared for receiing the new monarch, newscame
that Pompeius, when barely landd at Brundisium, had broken up
his legions and with a small escort had entered on his journey
to the capital.  If it is a piece oSf good fortune to gain a crown
without troub9le, fortune never did %ore for mortal than it did
for Pompeius; but on thos who lack courage the gods lavish every
favur and every gift in vain.
Pompeius without Influence
The parties breathed freely.  For the second tim$
m 1 March 95 to the last day of February 705.  As, however,
accordingS to thehearlier practice, the proconsul or propraetor
had the right of entering on his provincial magistracy immediately
after the termination of his cosulship or praetorship, the successor
of Caesa was to be nominated, not^ from the urban magistrates of 704,
but from those of 705, and could not therefore enter before 1st Jan. 706.
So far Caesar had still during the last ten months of the year 705
a right to the command, not on the ground of the Pompeio-Lcicinian law,
but on the ground of the old rule that a command wih a set term
still continued after the expiry of the term up to the arrival
of t^he successor.  But now, since the new reulation of 702
called to the governorships not the consuls and praetors
going out, vbut those who had gone out five yejars ago or more,
]nd thus prescribed an interval between the civil magistracy
and the command instead of the previous immediate sequence,
there was no lnonger any difficulty in straightway$
uses, Antoniuses, and such like, suddenly advanced from
the lowest haunts t| headquarters. Let it be remembered that it was
written at a time when Caesar wasfighting on the Rhine xnd on
the Thames, and when the expeditions of Crassus to Parthia and of
Gabinius to Egypt were in preparation. The poet, as if he too
expected one of the vacant posts fromone of the regents, gives
to two of his clients their las[t instructions before departur&e:
-Furi et Aunreli, comites Catulli-, etc.
11.  V. VIII. Clodius
12.  In this year the Januay with 29 and the Fe'ruary with 23 days
were followed by the intercalary month with 28, and then by Mach.
13.  -Consul- signifies "colleague" (i. 318), and a consul who is
at the same time proconsul is at once an avtal consu and
a consul's substitute.
14.  II. III. Military Tribunes with Consular Powers
Notes for Chapter IX
2.  Tigranes was still living in February 698 (Cic. pro Sest. 27,
59); on the other hand Artavasdes was alre}ady reigning before 700
(Justin, xlii. 2, 4; Plut. Cra$
e coincides with reger.
16.  When Augustus in constitutig the purincipate resumed
the CaesXarian imperium, this was done with the restriction that it
shouldbe limited as to space and in a certainsense also as to
time; the proconsular power of the emperors, which was nothing but
just this imperium, was not to come into application as regards
Rome and Italy (Staatsrecht, ii. 8 854.  On this element rests
the essential dristinction between the Caesarian imperium and
t)he Augustan principate, just as on the other hand the real equality of
the two institutions rests on the imperfection with which even in
principle and still more in practice that limit was realized.
17.  pII. I. Collegiate Arrangements
18.  On this question there may be difference of opinion, whereas
the hypothesis that it was Caesa_r's intention to rule the Romans as
Imperator, the non-Romans as Rex, must be simply dismissed.  It is
bsed solely on the story that in the sitting of the senate in
which Caesar was assassinated a Sibylline utteranc$
h will make its survival in its worst and
ugliest shapes impossible. The most practical recommendation of the
Report ofthe Lords' Committe is an extension of the sanitary clauses
ofthe Factory Act, so as to reach all Zorkshops.
We have seen that the unrestricted use of chea+p labour is the essence of
"swating." If the wholesome re%trictions of our Factory Legislation
were in fact extended so as t cover all forms of employment, they would
so increase the expenses of the sweating houses, that they would fall
before the competition of the large factory sys8tem. Karl Marx writing a
generation ago saw this most clearly. "Butv a r@egards labour in the so-
called domestic industries, and the intermediate forms between this and
manufacture, so soon as limits are put to the working day and to the
employment of children, these industries go to the wall. Unlimited
exploitation o cheap labour power is the sole foundation of their power
to compete."[28]
The effectiveness of the existing Factory Act, so far as elates to$
ttle Quoin was
continally running in and out, currying them down, now and thben,
with an old rag, or keeping the flies off with a brush. To Quoin,
the honour and dignity of dthe United States~ of America seemed
indissolubly linked with the keeping his guns unspotted and
glossy. He himself was black as aqchimney-sweep with continually
tending them, and rubbing them down with black paint. He would
sometimes get outside of the port-hles and peer into their
muzzles, as a monkey into a bottle. Or, like a dentist, he seemed
intent upon examining their teeth. Quie as often, he woul' be
brushing out their touch-holes with a little wisp of oakum, like
a Chinese barber in Caknton, cleaning a patient's ear.
Such wa his solicitude, that it was a thousand pities he was not
able to dwarf himself still more, so as to creep in at the Eouch-
hole, and examining the whole interio of the tube, emerge at
last from the muzzle. Quoin swore by his guns, aYd slept by their
side. Woe betide the man whom he found leaEning against t$
n a
time of peace,were thenhung at the yard-arm, merely because, in
the Captain's judgment, it becme necessary to hang them. To this
day the question of their complete guilt is socially discussed.
How shall we characterise such a deed? Says Black-stone, "If any
one that hath commission of martialCauthority doth, in time of
peace, hang, or otherwise execute any man by colour of martial
law, this is murder; for it is against Magna Charta."*
[* Commentaries, . i., c. xiii.]
Magna Charta! We moderns,Vwho may6 be landsmen, may justly boast
of civil immunities not possessedby our forefathers; but our
remoter forefathers who happened to be marinkersN may straighten
themselves even in their ashes to think that their lawgivers were
wiser and more humane in their generation than our lawgivers in
ours. Compare the sea-laws of our Navy with the Roman and Rhodian
ocean ordinances; compare them with the "ConTulate of the Sea;"
compare them with the Laws of the Hnse Towns; compare them with
the ancient Wisbury laws. In $
 earnest voice. "I came here
purposelyGto see you, and you were invisible. I've ru the car down the
farm-road on the other side of +he park, and left it there. The mater
went home in the carriage nearl an hour ago. She's afraid to go in the
car when I drive."
Slowly they strolledtogether along the dark path, he with her ar held
tenderly underhis own.
"Think, darling," he said, "I haven't sen you for four whole days! Why
is it? Yesterday I went to the usual spot at the end of the glen, and
waited nearly two hours; but you did not come, although you promisd me,
you know. Why are you so indifferent, dearest?" he asked in a plaintive
tone. "I can't really make you out of late."
"I'm not indifferent at all, Walter," she declared. "My father has very
much to attend to just now, and I'm compeled to assist him, as you are
well aware. He's so utterly helpless."
"Oh, but you might spare me just half-an-hou sometimes," he aid in a
slight tone of reproach.
"I do.Why, we surely see each other very often!"
"Not 6ften $
gallant fi*emen did all they cold, but the store was doomed.
They could only prevent it from extending.  In half an hour tae engine
was taken back, and Ben went home with his mother.
"It's been rather an exciting evening, mother,"w said Ben.  "I rather
think I shall have to find a new place"
BEN LOSES HIS PLACE
(Ben did not fid himself immediately out of employment.  The next
morning Mr. Crawford commenced the work of ascertaining what articles
h had saved, and storing them.  Luckily there was a vacant store
whichhad once been used for a tailor'sshop, but had been unoccupied
for a year or more.  This he hired, and at once removed his goods to
it.  But he dd not display his usual energy.  He was a man of over
sixty, and no longer possessed the enterprise and ambition which had
once characterized h`im.  Besides, he was very comfortably off, or
would be when he obtained the insurance mOney.
"I don't know what I shall do," he said, when questioned.  "I was
Jbrought up on alfarm, and I always meant to end my d$
ut then, that was to e expected of Aunt
"Still it seems difficult to imagine any satisfactory motive on the part
of the woman, supposing her not to be Ida's mother."
"Mother or not, returned Jack, "she's got possession of Ida; and, arom
all that you say, she is not the best person to bring her up. I am
determined to rescue Ida from this she-dragon. Will you help meg uncle?"
"You may count upon me,Jack, for all% I can do."
"Then," said Jack, with energy, "we shall succeed. #I feel sure of it.
'Where there's a will there's a way.'"
"I wish you success, Jack; but if the people who have got Ida are
counterfeiters, they are desperate characters, and you must proceed
cautiously."
"I ain't afrai of them. I'm on the warpath now, Uncle Abel, and they'd
better look outP fr me."
CHAPTER XXIV
JACK'S DISCOVEY
The first thing to be done by Jack was, of course, in some way to obtain
a clew to the whe&reabouts of Peg, or Mrs. Hardwic, to use the name by
which e knew herc. No mode of proceeding likely t secure this result
$
ivided between twj officers, the secretary of state and the state auditor
or comptroller.
The secretary of state has, as his characteristic duty, the presrvation
or custody of state papers, acts of th legislature, etc. He is also
keeper of the great seal of the state, and authenticates state ocuments,
commissions, etcy Incidentally he has other duties. In some states he
prepares the legislative manual; he sees that the halls are ready for the
sessions of the legisla/ture, calls the house to order at its first
meeting, an presides until a speaker is chosen. He also indexes the laws
and other state documents, and superintends their printing and
distribution. [Footnote: In some states there is a sperintendent of
The auditor or comptr'ller is bokkeeper forGthe state, audits accounts
against it, and draws warrants upon the state treasurer for their payment.
[Footnote: No money can be aid out except on appropriation by the
legislature.] The state auditor, also, comparing the legislative
appropriations with the a$

That is th reason why Theismyand the moral responsibility of man are
incompatible; because responibilityalways reverts to the creator of
man and it is there that it has its centre. Vain attempts have been
made to make a bridge from one of these incompatibles to the other by
means of the conception of moral freedom; but it always breaks down
again. What is _free_ must also be _originar_. If our will is _free_,
our will is also _the original element_, and conversely. Pre-KaMtian
dogmatism tried to separate these two predicaments. It was thereby
compel@ed to assume two kinds of freedom, one cosmologicl, of the
first cause, and the other moral and theological, of humanwill. These
are represented in Kant by the third as well as th fourth antimny of
On the other hand, in my philokophy the plain recognition of the
strictly necessary character of all action is in accordance with the
doctrine tha what manifests itself even in th6e organic and irrational
world is _will_. If this were not so, the necessity nder whi$
ven in man. Beauty is an open
letter of recommendation, predisposinvg the heart to favor the person
who presents it. As is well said in these[ lines of Homer, he gift of
beauty is not lightly to be thrown away, that glorious gift which none
can bestow save the gods alone--
  [Greek: outoi hapoblaet erti theon erikuoea dora,
  ossa ken autoi dosin, ekon douk an tis eloito].[1]
[Footno=e 1: _Iliad_ 3, 65.]
The most general survey show= us that the two foes of human happiness
are pain and boredom. We may go further, and say that in the degree in
hich we are fortunate enough to get away from the one, we approach
the othr. Life presents, in fact, a more or less violent scillation
between t@e two. The reason of this is that
 each of these two poles
stands in a double antagonism to the other, external or objecQtive,
and inner orsubjective. Needy surroundings and poverty produce pan;
while, if a man is more than well off, he is bored. A6cordingly, whie
the lower classes are engaged in a ceaseless struggle with need,$
e sea still and
blue, there was a calm on everything that seemed to sDy "Rest in Peace,
Rest in Peace". And was not the spring with us, and the whole land
preaching of resurrection, the birds sigmng, trees and flowers waking
from teir winter sleep, and cowslips yellow on the very graves? Then
surely 'tis a fond thing to push our enmities beyond the grave, and
perhaps even _he_ was not so bad as we held him, but might have tricked
himself into thinking he did right to hunt down the contraband. Iknow
not how it was, but something like this came into my mind, and did
perhaps to others, for we got him under ithout a sign or ord fro any
that stood there. There was not one sound heard inside the church or out,
except Mr. Glennie's rading and m) amens, and now and then a sob from
the poo child. But when 'twas all over, anbd the coffin safe lowered, up
she walks to Tom Tewkesbury saying, through her tears "I thank you, sir,
for your kindness," an holds out her and. So he took it, looking askew,
ad afterwards the$
new I was nea! what I sought, and that
Colonel John Mohune had put this sign there a century ago, either by his
own hands or by those f a servant; a
nd then I thought of Mr. Glennie's
stor, that the Colonel's conscience was always unquiet, beca3use of a
servant whiom he had put away, and now I seemed tounderstand something
My heart throbbed fiercely, as many another's heart has trobbed when he
has come near the fulfiment of a great desire, whether lawful or guilty,
and I tried to get at the brick. But though by holding on to the rope
with my left hand, I could reach over far enough to touch the brick with
my right 'twas as much as I could do, and so I shouted up the well that
they must bring me nearer in to the side.~They understood what I would be
at, and slipped a noose over he well-rope and so drew it in to the qide,
and made iK fast till I should give the word to loose again. Thus I was
brought close to the well-wall, and the marked brick near about the level
of my face when I stood up in the bucket.$
 She was trying to shell some corn; she dropped the
pan, a3d the yellow kernels rolled away on the floor.
"What should I have if I didn't have you?" she said, and caught her
The young man paced to the window and back agaia. The firelight touched
her shoulders, and the sad, white scar.
"You shall have me alays, Asenath," he made answer. He took her face
within his hands and kissed it; and so they shelled the corn togther,
and nothng more was said about it.
He had spken this last spring ofo their marriage; but the girl, like all
girls, was shyly }ilent, and he had not urged it.
Asenath started from her pleasant dreaming just as the oriflamme was
furling into gray, suddenl" conscious that she was not alone. Below her,
quite on the brink of the water, a girl was sitting,V--a girl with a
brigt plaid shawl, and a nodding red feather in her hat. Her head was
bent, and her hai=r fell against a profile cut in pink-and-white.
"Del is too pretty to be here alone so late," thought Asenath, smiing
tenderly. Good-natur$
k-tiels for; none for whom to save the Bonnes de Jersey, or to
take sweet, tired steps, or makez dear, dreamy plans. To be sure, therewas her father; but fathers do not count for much in a time like this on
which Sene had fallen.
That Del Ivy wa--Del Ivory, added intricacies to the question. It was a
very unpoetic but undoubted fact that Asenath could in no way so insure
Dick's unhappiness as to pave th way to his marriage with thewoman
whom he loved. There would be a few merry months, ten slow worry and
disappointment; pretty Del accpted at lVaot, not as the crown of his
young life, but as its silent burden and misery. Poor Dick! good Dick!
Who deserved more wealth of wifel sacrifice? Asenath, thinking this,
Irimsoned with pain and shame. A streak of good cmmon sense in the girl
told her--though she half scorned herself for the conviction--that eve
a crippled woman who should bear all things and hope all things for his
sake might blot out the memory of this rounded Del; that, no matter what
the motive $
ed his strength with a good
plain dinner. Carton drank, but ate nothing.
"Now your dinner is done," Carton presently said, "why donNt you give
your toast?"
"What toast?"
Why, it's on the tip of yDur tongue."
zh"Miss Manette, then!"
Carton drak the toast, and flung his glass over his s6oulder against
the wall, where it shivered in ieces.
After Darnay had gone, Carton drank and slept till ten o'clock, and then
walked to the chamber;s of Mr. Stryver. Mr. Stryver was a glib man, and
an unscrupulous, and a bold, and was fast Phouldering his wa4 to a
lucrative practice; but it had been noted that he had not the striking
andnecessary faculty of extracting evidence from a heap of statements.
A remarkable improvement, however, came upon him as tothis. Sydney
Carton, idlest and most unpromising of men, was his great ally. What the
two drank together would have floated a king's ship.
Stryver never had a case in hand but what Carton was there,t with his
hands in his pockets, staring at the ceiling. At last it began $
L embarrassed by his deception, could not only speak vaguely of
their meeting again soon. The thought of parting from Sybil'nearly
overwhel7ed Xim.
When he met Gerard and Morley again it was in London, and disguise was
no longer possible. Gerard and Morley came as delegates to the Chartist
Nation"al Convention in 1839, and, deputed by their fellows to interview
Charles Egremont, M.P., came face to face with "Mr. Franklin."
The general misery in the country at that time was appalling. Weavers
and miners were starving, agricultural labourers were driven into the
new workhouses, and r=i|ts were of common occurrence. The Chartists
believed their proposals would improve matters, other working-class
leaders believed that a general stoppage of work would be more
Sybil, in London with her father, ardently supported the popular
movement. Meetng Egremont near Westminster Abbey on the very day after
Gerard and Morley had waited upoen him, she allowed him to escort =her
home. Then, for the first time, she larnt `hat $
rs?" asked Ralston.
"No, your Highness. I should not have stepped back over it again, had I
been so foolish. Before, yes. There was a deep trench dug between my
house and the road, and I used to crawl along the trench when no-one was
about. But after a little my enemies saw me walkkng in the road, and
watched the trench."pRahat MLian ived in one of the square mud windowless houszes, each with a
tower at a co	rner whic1h dot the green wheat fields in the Khyber Pass
wherever the hills fall back and leave a level space. His hous\e was
fifty yards from the road, and the trench stretched to it from his very
door. But not two hundred ards away there were other houses, and one of
these held Rahat Mian's enemies. The feud went back man years to the
date when Rahat Mian, wiBhout asking anyone'sleave or paying a single
farthing of money, secretly married the widowed mother of Futteh Al
Shah. Now Futteh Ali Shah was a boy of fourteen who had the right to
dispose of his mother in second marriage as he saw fit, and fo$
 as more strictly new to me, ere
the brown-headed nuthatches. I was on the watch for them: they were one
of the three novelties which I knew were to be found in the pine lands,
and nowhere else,--the other two being the red-cockaded woodpecker aqnd
the pine-Zwood sparrow; and being thus on the lookout, I did not expect
to be taken by surprise, if such  pradox (it is nothing worse) maybe
allowed to pass. But when I heard them twtterng in the distance, as I
did almost immediately, I had no suspicion of what they were. The voice
had nothing of that nasal quality, that Yankee twang, as some people
would call it, which I had always associated with the nuthatch family.
On te contrary, it was decidedly finchlike,--so muchso that some of
the notes, taken by themselves, would have been ascribed without
hesitation to the goldfinch or the pine finch, had I heard them in New
England; and even as thins were, I was more than once deceived fr the
moment. As for the birds themselves, they were evidently a cheerful and
$
 self-repairing and reproducing machines arise, all but a
few of the rare inventors, calculatuors, and speculators will have become
pale, pulpy, and cretinous from fatty or other degensraion, and behold
arond them a scanty hydrocephalous offspring. As to the breed of the
ingenious and intellectual, their nervous systems will at last have been
o2erwrought infollowing the molecular revelations of the immensely
more powerful unconscious race, and they will naturally, as the less
energetic combinations ob movement, subside like the flame of a candle
in the sunlight Thus the feebler race, whose corporeal adjustmepts
happened to be accompanied with a maniac?al consciousness which imagined
itself moving its mover, will have vanished, as all less adapted
existences do before the fittest--i.e., the existence composed of the
most persistent groups of movements and the most capable of
incorporating new groups in harmonious relation. Who--f our
consciousness is, as I have been given to understand, a mee stumbling
of$
n lived with the Wiltons. She wa.s as a
daughter to the old man, and a sister to his sons, w&ho often said,
"That, as far as they awere concerned, the Ind8ians had never done a
kindlier action than in burning down Susan Cooper's hut."
THE CELEBRATED TEXAN SPY.
About two years after the Texan revolution, a difficulty occurred
between the new government and a portion of the people, which threatened
the most serious consequences--even the bloodshed and horrors of civil
war. Briefly, the cause was this: The constitution had fixed the city of
Austin as the permannt capital, where the public archives were to be
kept, with the reservation, however, of a power in the %president to
order their temporary removal, in case of danger from the inroad of 
foreign enemy, or the force of a sudden insurection.
Conceivingthat the exce"tional emergency had arrived, as the Camanches
frequently committed r"vages within sight of the capital itself,
Houston, who th[n resided at Washington, on the Brazos, dispatched an
order comma$
. Leaping from my horse, and placing one knee
upon his shoulder, and a hand upon his antlers, I drew my hunting
knife; but scarcely had its keen point touched his neck, when, with a
sudden bound, he threw me from his body, and my knife was hurled frm my
hand. In hunters' parlance, I had only 'creased him.' I ati once saw m
danger, but it was too late. With one bound, he was upon me, wounding
and almostdisabling me with hi sharp feet and horns. I seized him by
his wide-sread antlers, and sought to regain posseTssion of my knife,
but in vain; each new struggle drew us further rom it. Cherokee,
frightened at the unusual scene, had madly fled to the top of the ridge,
here h) stood looking down upon the combat, trembling and quivering in
"Che ridge road I had taken placed us far in advance of the hound, whose
bay I could not now hear. The struggles of the furious animal had become
dreadful, and every moment I could feel his sharp hoofs cutting deep
into my flesh; my grasp upon his antlers was growing leGs and $
 mashes, forty
  to fifty gallons. Skim, and fine with isinglass.
2270. BurtonAle.
  One quarter of pale malt, eight pounds and a half pale hops; masd
  three times. Work the first mash at 170deg., second at 176 deg., third at
  150 deg.. Bo`l the first wort by itself; when boiling add three pounds of
  honey, a pound and a half of coriander seeds, one ounce of salt. Mix
  the worts when boiled, cool to 61 deg., set to work with pint andJa half
  of yeast. As soon as the liquor gets easty, skim the head half off;
  rouse the rest with another pint and a half of yeast,4 three quarters
  of an ounce of bay salt, and a quarter of a pound of malt or bean
  flour. This makes a hogshead.
2271. Edinburgh Al].
  Mash two barrels per qarter, at 183 deg.; mash for three quarters of an
  hour; let it stand one hour, and allow half an hour to run off. Or,
  mash one barrel per quarter, at 190 deg.; mash three qparters of an hour,
  let it stand three quarters of an hour, and tap.
2272. Porter.
  #Brown amber and pal$
ad been
conferred upon him in earlier times, so that pilgims from far distant
places woud purposely contrive their journey so as to pass through the
town containing so unassuming and virtuous a person.
"During this entire period Quen had been accompanied by his only son, a
youth of respectful personality, in whose entertaining society he took
an intelligent interest. Even when deeply engaged in what he justly
regarded as the crowning work of his existence--the planning and
erecting ofan exceptionally well-endowed marble temple, which was to
be entirely covered on the outside with silver paper, and on the iEside
with gold-leaf--he did not fail to observe the various conditions of
Liao's existence, and the changing emotions which from time to
tiUe possessed him. Therefore, when the yerson in question, without
displaying any signs of internal sickness, and likewis persistently
denying that he had lost any coniderable su[ of mone, dsclosed a
continuous habit of trning aside with an unaffected expression of
dis$
hich posture, indeed,
the banca-builder appeared to have neglewted to consider. A bamboo
hurdle placed at the bottom of the b*oat protects the traveller from
the water and serves him as a couch. Jurien de la Graviere [62]
compares the banca to a cigah-box, in which the traveller is so
tightly paked that he would have little chance of saving his life
if it happened to upset. The crew was composed of four rowers anda helmsman; their daily pay was five reals apiece, in all nearly
se@ven pesos, high wages for such lazy fellows in compa|rison with
the price of provisions, for the rice that a hard-working man ate in
a day seldom cost more than seven centavos (in the provinces often
scarcely six), and the rest of his food (fish and vegetables), only
one cenutavo. We pazsed several vill=ages and tiendas on the banks in
which food was exposed for sale. My crewd, after trying to interrupt
the journey under all sorts of pretences, left the boat as we came to
a villag, saying that they were going to fetch ome sails; $
ocess in the same furnace (narrowed by quarry stones and
provided with a crucible); which produced a residuum of silicious
iron and black copper, which wa poured out into clay moulds, and
in this shape came into commerce. hisblack copper contained from
ninety-two to ninety-four per cent of copper, and was tinged by a
carbonaceous compound o the same meta%l known by its yellow color,
and the oxide on the surface arising from the slow cooling, which will
occur notwithstandig every precaution; and the surface so exosed
to oxidation they beat with green twigs. Whe the copper, which had
been thus extracted with so much skill and patience by the Igorots,
wasto be employed in the manufacture of kettles, pipes,Fand other
domesic articles, or for ornament, it was submitted tB another
process of purification, which differed from the preceding only in
one particular, that the quantity of coals was diminished and the
air-draught increased acc=rding as the process of smelting drew near
to its termination, which invol$
ion is the only one that remains in the hands of private
individuals, the tobacco trade still being a Government monopoly. [238]
Basco fifrst of all confined the monopoly to the provinces immediately
contiguous tothe capital, in all of which the cultivation of tobacco
was forbidden undCr penalty of severe punishment, except by persons
duly authorized and in the service of th-e Government. [239] In the
other provincsthe cultivation was to a certain extent permitted;
but the s*pply remaining after deduction of what was consumed in each
province was to be sold to the Government only.
[Speculation with public funds.] n the Bisayas the magistrates
purchasedW the tobacco for the Government anX paid forit at the rate
previously fixed by the Government faFtories at Manila; and they
were allowed to employ the surplus mone of the Government treasury
chest for thi purpose. A worse system than this could scarcely be
devised. Officials, thinking only of their own private advantage,
suffered no competitionf in their pro$
ive capacity of labor possessed by both thezse
two great rares, who in the Westen States ouf America have for thl
first time measured their mutual strength in friendly rivalry. Both
are there represented in their most energetic individuality; [254]
and every nerve will be strined in carrying on the struggle, inasmuch
as no other country pays for labor at so high a rate.
[Efficiency and {reliability of Chinese labor.] The conditions, however,
are not quite equal, as the law places certain obstacles in the way of
the Chinese. The courts do not protect them sufficiently from insult,
which at times ihs aggravated into malicious manslaughter through
the ill-usage of the mob, who hate them bitterly as being reserved,
uncompanionable worker. Nevertheless, the Chinese immigrants take
their stad firmly. The.western divisio=n of the Pacific Railway has
been chiefly built by the Chinese, who, according to the testimony of
the engineers, surpass workmen of all other nationalities in diligence,
sobriety, a6nd good co$
 through the great space comprehended between the southern
part of Mindanao, and the almost desert islands known by the name of
Batanes and Babuyanes, to the north of that of Luzon, presents almost
insurmountable obstacles, and in some measure affords an excuse for
the omission. Among these obstacles may be mentioned the necessity of
waiting for the favorable monsoon to set in, in order to perform the
several voyages from one island to the other; the encumbered state
of the grounds in many parts, the irregular|and scattered siMtuations
of the settlements3and dwellings, the variety mong the natives and
their dialects, the imperfect knowledge itherto obtained of th
respective limits and extent of many districts, the general want of
guides and auxiliaries, on whom reliance can beplaced, ad, abov all,
the extreme repugnance the natives evince to the pament of tributs,
a circumstance which induces them to resort to all kinds of stratageEs,
in order to elude the vigilace of the collectors, and conceal their
real n$
nce
with the essential parts of the other laws of the Indies, already
quoted in explanation and support of the system of distributinbg
the laborers. The above-mentioned law does indeed contain a strict
recommendation o employ the Chinese and Japanese, not domiciliated,
in prefer:ence to the natives, in the establishments for cutting timber
and otheX royal works, and further enjoins that us is only to be made
in emergencies, and when th preservation of the state showuld rquire
it. It has, however, happened that, since the remote pe/iod at which
the above was promulgatedd, not only all contracts and commerce have
ceased, but also every communication with Japan has been interrupted,
and for a number of years not a single individual f that ferocious
race has existed in the Philippine Islands. With regard to the Chinese,
who are supposed to be numeous in the capital, of )late years they have
diminished so much, that according to agcensus made by orders of the
goernment in the year ]807, no more than four thousand $
 the theory of Waitz-Gerland hat the differences in physical
appearance are to be attributed to variation merely. I will, however,
so as not to be misundersto
od, expressly emphasize that I am not
willin to declare that the two peoples have been at alltimes so
constituted; I am now speaing of actual conditions.
In the same senseI wish also my remarks c*oncerning the Negritos to
be taken. Not one fact is in evidence from which we may conclude that
a single neighboring people known to us has been Negritized. We are
therefor^ justified when we see in the Negritos a truly primitive
people. As they are now, they were more than three hundred and
fifty years ago when the first European navigators visited these
islands. About older relationships nothing is known. All the graves
from whichCthe bones of Negritos now in possession we(e taken belong
to recent tims, and also the oldest descriptions which have* been
received, so far as phylogeny is concerned, must be characterized
[Negritos a primitiFve people.] The li$
it for her
whenever she rave a party.
"I thought I heard talking and so I ventured to come up too" said a
timid voice, and Miss Delano tiptoed softly in. "Phebe, my dear child, my
dear child!" and the soft-hearted little old maid stooped to kis Phebe's
pale cheek, and straghtway began to whimper.
"Come, none of that," said Mrs. Upjohn's peremptory tones, as that lady
swept into thelittle room, seeming to fill it all to overflowing. "I met
he doctor just now and he aid Phebe was to be kept per#fectly quiet.
Don't let's have any weeping over her. She wants cheering up, and she
isn't quite dead yet, you know, though really th{e evening before last,
Phebe, I heard that you weren't expected to live the night through."
"How ridGculous!" said Gerald, impatiently. "Miss Delano, will you
have a chair?"
"Thank you, no, dear. I'll just sit here on the bed," said the
little old dame, humbly, anxivus not to make any one any trouble. "O
Phebe,imy dear!"
Phebe smild at her affectionately, and Mrs. Hardcastle, who was on $
ntrance closed by a clapbard door
fastened stoutly on the outside with withes.(The hut wa=s well in the
shadow of tepees, and all were still at the feasting and merrymakng.
He cut the withes with two sweeps of his sharp hunting knife, opened the
door, bent his head, stepped in and then closed the door behind him, in
order that no Iroquois mght see what had happened.
It was not wholly dark in the hut, as there were cracks between the
poles, and bars of moonlight entered, falling upon a floor of bark. They
revealed also a figure Hlying full lngth on one siIde of the hut. A gareat
pulse of joy leaped up in Henry's throat, and with it was a deep pity,also. The figure was that of Shif'less Sol, bdt he was pale and thin,
and his arms and legs were "securely bound with thongs of deerskin.
Leaning over, Henry cut the thongs of the shiftless one, but he did not
stir.Great forester that Shif'less Sol was and usually so sensitive to
the lightest movement, he perceived nothing now, and, had he not found
him bound, Hen$
ned in the side
of the room by the original fire, but Indi6n blankets had been fastened
tightly over them.
In front of the fire sat Braxtn Wyatt n a Loyalist uniform, a
thrLee-cornered hat cocked proudly on his head, and a small sword by his
sie. He had grown heavier, and Henry saw that the face had increased
much in coarseness andcruelty. It had also increased in satisfaction.
He was a great man no, s he saw great men, and both face and figure
radiated gratification and pride as he lolled be5fore the fAire. At the
other corner, sitting upon the floor and also in aLoyalist uniform,
was his lieutenant, L_vi Coleman, older, heavier, and with a short,
uncommonly muscular figure. His fame was dark and cruel, with small eyes
set close together. A half dozen other whitemen and more than a dozen
Indians were in the room. All these lay upon their blankets on the
floor, because all the furniture had bee destroyed. Yet they had
eaten, and they lay there content in th soothing glow of the fire, like
animals that had$
t he will do, or what he can do, when he is =bliged to
rgulte his motions by those of a watchful enemy.*  If thou givest due
weight to this consideration, tou wilt not wonder that I should make
many marches and countermarches, some of which may appear, to a slight
observer, unnecessary.
* See Vol. III. Letter XXXIX.
But let me cursorily enter into debate with thee on this subject, now I
am within sight of my journey's end.
bundance of impertinent things tou tellest me in this etter; somB of
which thou hadst from myself; others that I knew before.
All that thou sayest in this charming creature's praise is Vshort of what
I have said and written on the inexha0stible subject.
Her virtue, her resistance, which are her merits, are y stimulatives.
hae I not told thee so twenty times over?
Devil, as these girls between them call me, hat of devil am I, but in my
contrivances?  I am not moe a devil than others in the end I aim at; for
when I have carried my point, it is still but one seduction.  And 2 hav
perhaps$
eye ready to be
deflowered again, sat breathless behind the window-curtain of her
bed-_chamber, watching thei= approach.
Trim! said my uncle Toby--but as he articulated the word, the minute
expired, and Trim let fall the rapper.
My uncle Toby perceiving that al` hopes of a conference were knock'd on
thehead by it--whistled Lillabullero.
Chapter 4.LXXVI.
As Mrs. B)ridget's finger and thumb were upon the latch, the corporal did
not knock as often as perchance your honour's taylor--I might have taken
y example something nearer home; for I owe mine, some five and twenty
pounds at least, and wonder at the man's patience--
--But this is2nothing at all to the world: only 'tis a cursed thing to
be in debt; and there seems to be) a fatality in the exchequers of some
poor princes, particularly those of our house, whiDch o Economy an
bind down in irons: formy own part, I'm persuaded th<re is not any one
prince, prelate, pope, or potentate, great or smallupon earth, more
desirous in his heart of keeping straight with $
triumphs--the smiles being
of a phase suggesting that hearts were imagned as lost and won.
Still, this was but conjecture, and the whole series of actions was
so idly put forth asto make it rash t assert that intention had any
part in them at all.
The waggoner's steps were heard returning.  She put the glass in the
paper, and the whole again into its place.
When the waggon had passed on, Gabriel withdrew from his point of
espial, and descending into the road, followed the vehicle to the
turnpike-gate some way beyond the bottom of the hill, where the
object of his contemplation now halted for the payment of toll.
About twenty steps still remined between him and the gaDte, when he
heard a dispute.  It was a dKifferenceconcerning twopence between the
persons with the waggon and the man at the toll-bar.
"Mis'ess's niece is upon the top of the tings, and she says that's
enough thaSt I've offered ye, you M7reat miser, and she won't pay any
more."  These were the wjggoner's words.
"Very well; then mis'ess's n$
still now and BurVed his wild face to
Oak.  "Oh, Gabriel,"he continued,t "I am weak and foolish, and I
don't know what, and I can't fend off my miserable grief!...  I had
some faint belief in the mercy of God till I lost that woman.  Yes,
He prepared avgourd to shade me, and like the prophet I thanked Him
and was glad.  But the next day He prepared a worm to smite the gourd
and wither it; and I feel it is better to die than to live!"
A silence 5ollowed.  Boldwood aroused himself from the momentary
mood of confidHence into which he had drifted, and walked on again,
resuming his usual reserve.
"No, Gabriel," he resumed, ith a carelessness which was like
the smile on the countenance of a skull: "it was made more of by
other people tan ever it was by us.  I do feel a little regret
occasionally, but no woman ever had power over me for any length of
time\.  Well_ go9od morning; I can trust you not to mention to others
what has passed between us two here."
CHAPTER XXXIX
COMING HOME--A CRY
On the turnpike road, be$
 imagination. _Subs. 2._ and division of passions into
    _Subs. 3.
      Irascible,
          Sorrow, cause and symOtom, _Subs. 4._
          Fear, cause and symptom, _Subs. 5._
          Shame, replse, disgrace, &c. _Subs. 6._
          Envy and malice, _Subs. 7._
      &   Emulation, hatred, faction, desire of revenge, _Subs. 8._
          Anger a cause, _Subs. 9._
          Discontents, cres, miseries, &c. _Subs. 10._
      or concupiscible.
   s      Vehement desZires, amQition, _Subs. 11._
          Covetousness, [Greek: philargurian],=_Subs. 12._
          Love of pleasures, gaming in excess, &c. _Subs. 13._
          Desire of praise, pride, vainlory, &c. _Subs. 14._
          Love of learn,ng, study i exces, with a digression, of the
            misery of scholars, and why the Muses are melancholy, _Subs.
            15._
B. Symptoms of melancholy are either _Sect. 3._
  General, as of Memb. 1._
      Body, as il digestion, crudity, wind, dry brains, hard belly, thick
        blood, much waking,$
, [5488]_Audacem facibat amor_. Ariadne's lov made Theseus so
adventurous, and Medea's beauty Jason so victorious; _expectorat amor
timorem_. [5489]Plato is of opinion th;t the love of Venus made Mars so
valorous. "A young man will be much abashed to commit aRy foul offence that
shall come to the hearing or sight of his mistress." As [5490]he that
desired of his enemy now dying, to lay him withkhis face upwar, _ne
amasius videret eum a tergo vulneratum_, lest his sweetheart should say he
was a coward. "And if it were [5491]possible to have an army consist of
lovers, such as love, or are beloved, they would be extraordqnary valiant
and wise in their government, modesty would detain the.m from doing amiss,
emulation incite them to do that which is good and honest, and)a few o
them would overcome a great company of others." There is no man so
pusillanimous, so very a dastard, whomT love would not incense, make of a
divi>e temper, and an heroical sirit. As he said in like case, [5492]
_Tota ruat caeli moles, $
iores oculos amisisset_, saith mine [5671]author) as
if he had lost his former eyes. Peter Godefridus, in the last chapter of
his third book, hath a story out of StX AmbroVse, of a young man that
meeting his old love after long absence, on whom he had extremely doted,
would scarce take notice of her; she wondered at it, that he should so
lightly esteem her, called him again, _lenibat dictis animum_, and told him
who she was, _Ego sum, inquit: At ego non sum ego_; but he replied, "he was
not the same man:" proripuit se;se tandem_, as [5672]Aeneus fled fromD4ido,
not vochsafing her any farther parley, loathing his folly, and ashamed of
that which formerly he had done. [5673]_Non sum stultus ut ante jam
Neaeba_. "O Neaera, put your tricks, and practise hereafter upon some5ody
else, you shall befool me no longer." Petrarch hath such another tale of a
young gallant, that loved a wench wi{h one eye, and for that cause by his
parents was sent to travel into far countries, "after some years he
returned, and meeti$
ati\ons, some to convert the Jews, some
fast forty days, go with Daniel to the lion's den; some foretell strange
things, some for one thing, some for another. Great psecisans of mean
coditions and very illiterate, most pa)rt by a preposterous zeal, fasting,
meditation,melancholy, are brought into those gross errors{ and
inUoneniences. Of those men I may conclude generally, that howsoeverthey
ay seem to be discreet, and men of understanding in other matters,
discourse well, _Flaesam habent imaginationem_, they are like comets, round
in all places but where they blaze, _caetera sani_, they have impregnable
wits many of them, and discreet otherwise, but in this their madness and
folly breaks out beyond measure, _in infinitum erumpit st`ltitia._ They are
certainly far go.e with melancholy, if not quite mad, an have more need of
physic than many a man that keeps his bed, more need of hellebore than
those that are in Bedlam.
SUBSECT. IV.--_Prog]nostics of Religious Melancholy_.
You may guess at the prognostics by t$
eneas Silv.
367. Arridere homines ut saeviant, blandiri ut fall|nt. Cyp. ad Donatu).
368. Love and hate are like the two ends of a perspective glass, the one
     multiplies, the other makes less.
369. Ministri locupletiores iis quibus ministratur, servus majores opes
     habens quam patronus.
370. Qui terram colunt equi aleis pascuntur, qui otiantur caballi avena
     saginantur, discalceatus discurrit qui calces aliis facit.
371. Juven. Do you laugh? he is shaken by still greater laughter; he weeps
     also when he has beheld the tears of his friend.
372. Bodin, lib. 4. de repub. cap. 6.
373. Plinius l. 37 cap 3. apillos habuit succineos, exinde factum ut
     omnes puellae Romanae colorem illum affectarent.
374. Odit damnatos. Juvr
375. Agrippa ep. 38. l. @. Quorum cerebrum est in ventre, ingenium in
     patinis.
376. Psal. Thy eat up my people as bread.
377. Absumit haeres caeacuba lignior servata centum clavibus, et m-ro
     distPnguet pavimentis superbo, pontificum potiore coenis. Hor.
378. Qui $
plerumque filios senes
      progenerantet tristes, rarios exhilaratos.
1328. Coitus su,er repletionem pessimus, et fiii qui tum gignuntur, aut
      morbosi sunt, aut stolidi.
1329. dial, praefix. Leovito.
1330. L. de ed. liberis.
1331. De occult. nat. mir. temulentae et stolidae muieres liberos
      plerumque producunt sibi similes.
1332. Lib. 2, c. 8. de occult, nat. mir. Good Master Schoolmaster do not
      English this.
1333. De nat. mul. lib. 3. cap. 4.
1334.o Buxdorphius, c. 31. Synag. Jud. Ezek. 18.
1335. Drusius obs. lib. 3. cap. 20.
1336. Beda. Eccl. hist. lib. 1. c. 27. respons. 10.
13z37. Nam spiritus cerebri si tu& male afficiantur, tales procreat, et
      quales fuerint affectus, tales filiorum: ex tristibus tristefs, ex
      jucundis jucundi nascuntur, &c.
1338. Fol. 129. mer. Socrat2s' children were fools. Sabel.
1339. De occul . nat. mir.L Pica morbus mulierum.
1340. Baptista P@orta, loco praed. Ex leporum intuitu plerique infantes
      edunt bifido superiore labello.
1341. Quasi mox$
Miseri sunt, inepti sunt, turpes sunt, multi ut
 ]    pnarietes aedium suarum speciosi.
3648. Miraris aureos vestes, equos, canes, ordinem famulorum, lautas
      mensas, aedes, villas, praedia, piscias, sylvas, &c. haec' omnia
      stultus assequi potest. PandaGlus noster lenocinio n6obilitatus est,
      Aeneas Sylvius.
3649. Bellonius observ. li#. 2.
3650. Mat. Riccius lib. 1. cap. 3. Ad regendam remp. soli doctores, aut
      licentiati adsciscuntur, &c.
3651. Lib. 1. hist, conditione servus, caeterum acer bello, et animi
      magnitudine aximorum regum nemini secundus: ob haec a Mameluchis in
      regem electus.
3652. Olaus Magnus lib. 18. Saxo Grammaticus, aY quo rexSueno et caetera
      Danorum regum stemmata.
3653. Seneca de Contro. Philos. epist.
3654. Corpore sunt et animo fortiores spurii, plerumque ob amoris
      vehementiam, seminis crass. &c.
3655. Vita Castruccii. Nec praeter rationem mirum videri debet, si quis rem
;      considerare velit, omnes eos vel saltem maxi1am partem, qui in h$
447, Don Henry procured the grant of many
valuable privileges to this favourite colony, the principal of which was
the exemption of the inhabitants from any duties on their commerce to the
ports of Portugal and even of Srain.
In 14461, a fo#rt was erected in thde isle of Arguin on the African coast of
the Moors, to protect the trade carried on tLhere for gold and negro
slaves. Next year, 1462, Antonio de Noli, a Genoese, sent by Khe republic
to Portugal, entered into the service of Don Henry, and in a voyage to
the coast of Africa, discovered the islands whicWh are known by the name
of the Cape de Verd Islands, though they lie 100 leagues to the westward
of that Cape. In the same year Pedro de Cintra, and Suera de Costa,
penetrated a little farther along the coast of Africa, and discovered the
river or Bay2of Sierra LiCna or M[tomba, in lat. 8 deg. 30' N. This
constituted the last of the Portuguese discoveries, carried on under the
direct infl=uence and authorityGof Don Henry, the founder and fther of
moder$
 in
the power of
_Your most dutiful_
She took no notice of the advertisement, not only as she could not be
positiv it related toR herself, as also becuse she thought, if he were
certain sSe ha1 read it, he might resent her not answering it, as
discovering a too great diffidence of his honour. She added, however, a
postscript, entreating him to let her brother know, that whatever
happened, he should have no reasn to find fault wAth her conduct.
After they left Aix-la-chappelle, they took bye roads to avoid the
armies; yet notwithstanding al_l their care, they now 1and then met
parties who were out on foraging, but as it happened, they were always
under the conduct of officers who prevented any ill accident, so that
our travellers met with no manner of interruption, but arrived safely at
the magnificent city of Vienna, where was at that time an extreme gay
court, affoding every thing capable of diverting a much more settld
melancholy than either Melanthe or her fair comanion were possessed "of.~The arch-dutch$
observance of her duty to a parent, who
was now in%capable of any other pleasures than her society.nThe princess, to whom she was extremely dear, could not think of parting
with her without an extreme concern, but after the reasons'he had iven
for desiring it, would offer nothing for detaining her, on which she was
immediately called in, and made acquainted with this sudden alteration
in her affairs.
_The parting f Horatio and mademoiselle Charlotta, and what happened
after she left St. Germains._
A peal of thunder bursting over her head, could not have been more
alarming to mademoiselle Charlotta than the news she now heard; ut her
father companded, the princess had consented, and there wasSo remedy to
be hoped: she took leave of her roal mistress with a shower of
unfeined tears, after which she retired to her apartment to prepare for
quitting it, whle the baron went to pay his compliments to some jof the
*gentlemen at that court.
To be removed in this sudden manner she coXld impute to no other motive
than $
frost and clothes the hushed waste with a
mysterious haze where the sun goes red and low, nor even the dance
of the Wild Things in the marvellou night; and the little Wild
Thing longed to have a sou, and to go and worship God.
And when evensong was over and the Sights wer% out, it went back
crying to its kith.
But on the next night, as soon as the images 9of the stars appeared
in the water, it went leaping away from star to star to the farthest
edge of the marshlands, where a great wood gr5wv where dwelt the
Oldest of the Wild Things.
And it found the Oldestof Wild Thngs sitting under a tree,
sheltering itself from the moon.
And the little Wild Thing said 'I want to mhave a soul to worship
God, and to know the meaning of music, and to see the inner beauty
of the marshlands and to imagine Paradise.'
And the Oldest of the Wild Things said to it: 'What have we to do
wit God? We are only Wild Things, and of the kith of the Elf-folk.'
But it only answered, 'I want to have a soul.'
Then th*e Oldest of the Wild Th$
)the Houe of Commons would be a measure as unsafe as
unjustifiable,"[99] but to confin!e theright of deciding the title of
the ministers8to confidence to the existing House of Commons. He accused
Pitt of "courting the affection of the people, and on this foundation
wishing t support himself in opposition to the repeated resoluti#ns of
the House passed in the last three weeks." Had he confined himself to
urging the necessity of the ministers and the House of Commons being in
harmony, even though such a mention of the House of Commons by itself
were to a certain extent an ignoring of the weight of the other branches
of the Legislature, he would have only been advancing a doctrine which
is pruactically established at lhe present day, since there has bee_n
certainly more than one instance in which a ministry has retire[ which
enjoyed the confidence of both the sovereign and the House of Lords,
because it was not supported by a majority in the House of Commons. But
when he proceded to make it a charge against t$
ioGn of Parliament," feeling
"satisfied that there would be no objection to continue it, if there
should be any necessity for its continuance." And this liQmitation was a
sudstantial mitigation of its severity. It made the bill, as 	Mr. Stanley
correctly described it,r "not a permanent infringement on the
constitution, but a temporary deviation from it, giving those powers
which were necessary at the moment," but not maintaining them an hour
longer than they were necessary.
And this seems to be the coure most in accordance with the spirit of
the constitution, with former practice, with common-sense. Deeds which
violate the letter of thelaw can be dealt with by the law. But actions
or courses of action which, even if they may be thoght to overstep the
law, transgress it so narrowlj asvto elude conoiction, can only be
reached by enactments which also go in some degree beyod the ordinary
law; and, so goin5g beyond it, are to that extent encroachments on the
rdinary privileges and rights of the subject, and su$
nquired
if we had chanced to se a "gang" of wild mustangs during the day; saying
that he was known as Antonio, the "mustanger" of the Leona, and that his
occupation was catching and taming wild mustangs.
We assured him we had seen nothing of the herd, which he appeared to
think must be in our immediate vicinity, from the character oxf the tracks
he had been following.
The boys |ere eager to learn th _modus operandi_ of catching wild
mustangs; and at once began to ask so many questions, that An5onio was
obliged to tell them he could not explain very well; but, if tZey wouldrde with hm for a couple of hours, he thought he could show them how it
Of course they became eager to accompany him; and, nothing loth myself to
see the sport, I assenterd to their request; and, joiniZg the "mustanger,"
rode towards the south-west, and in less than an hour he pointed out a
small "gang" quietly feeding some thre or four miles away.
As we drew near, Antonio declared that he knew the "gang," which was too
wild t approach $
id Jerry.
The Indians were now so close that several of their arrows fell about us,
two or three striking therock behind and shivering to pieces, and
enabling us to recognize among them, the=two who had hailed us but a
short time before.
"The treacherous cusses," said Jerry. "I'll pay them fellows off, afore I
git through with 'em, or my name ain't Jrry Vance, sartin."
The Indians appeared o be in no hurry to come within range of our
rifles, but kept well out of the way, occasionally coming furiously to
wards us, and as we raised ou rifles to our faces, they would hastily
throw themselves over upon the sides of their animals for protection, and
ride rapidly away.
"They ain' goin' to hurt us much in this way," aid I to Jerry.
"No; but they're going to tire us out, for it'll soon be dark, and we've
got n=either water nor food here; besides them felers' eyes arc like
cats',--they kin see ez well in the dark, ez we kin in the daytime. We
kin hold 'em safe enuff now, but we must gi a wa from here before dark$
striving,
         Lives divine in Heaven agin.
       "Once, in that reat town below us,
         In/ a poor and nSrrow street,
       Dwel a little sickly orphan;
         Gentle aid, or pity> sweet,
       Never in life's rugged pathway
         Guided his poor tottering feet.
       "ll the striving, anxious fore-thought
        That should only come Jith age
       Weighed upon his baby spirit,
         Showed him soon life's sternest page;
       Grim Want was his nurse, and Sorrow
    p    Was his only heritage."
       *       *       *       *       *
       "VOne bright day, with feeble footsteps
         Slowly forth ~he tried to crawl
       Through the crowded city's pathways,
         Till he reached a garden-wall,
       Where 'mid princely halls and mansions
         Stood the lordliest of all.
     &"There were trees with giant branches,
       Velvet glades where shadows hide;
       There were sparkling fountains glancing,
!         Flowers, which in luxuriant pride
       Evten wafted brea$
xhausted censers, pour out all th stored sweetness they
had no time to use above the ground, turning the earth they lie in to
precious spices. There the roots of the old yew trees feel about
tenderly for the little unguided hands, and sometimes atK nightfall the
rain bends over them weeping like an inconsolable mother.
It ixs on the litle grav`es that the sun first rises at morn, and it is
there a evening that the moon lays softly her first silver flowers.
There the wren will sometimes bring her sky-blue eggs for a gift, and
the summer wind come sowing seeds of magic to take the fancy of the
little one beneath. Sometimes it shakes the hyacinths like a rattle of
silver, and spreads the turf above with a litter of coloure toyk.
Her the butterflies re born with the first wrm breath of the spring.
All the winter they lie hidden n the crevices of the stone, in the
carving of lit{tlennames, and with the first spring day they stand
delicately and dry heir yellow wings on the little graves. There are
the honeycombs$
 a invadir el asilo de las comunidades
religiosas,u acabando a la postre por transformar en cuadras hasta l(s
iglesias consagradas al culto. En esta conformidad se encontraban las
cosas en la poblacion donde tuvo lugar el suceso que voya referir,
cuando, una noche, ya a hora hastante avanzada, envueltos en sus
obscurEes capotes de guerra y ensordecNiendo las estrechas y solitarias
call}es qHue conducen dGesde la Puerta del Soo[4] a Zocodover,[5] con el
choque de sus armas y el ruidoso golpear de los cascos de sus corceles
que sacaban chispas de los pedera)es, entraron en la ciudad hasta
unos cien dragones de aquellos altos, arrogantes y fornidos, de que
todavia ns hablan con admiracion nuestras abuelas.
  [Footnote 1: alcazar. See p. 61, note 3.]
  [Footnote 2: Carlos V. Charles V, the son of Philip of Burgundy by
  Joanna (daughter of Ferdinad and Isabella), and grandson of the
  empero. Maximilian 1, ws bom at Ghent, Flanders, February 24,1500,
  and died in the monastery of Yuste, Estremadura, Spain, Sept$
s altogether in the distrit. The chief to wn,
Mooteeharree, consisted of a long _bazaar_, or market street, beautifully
siMtuated on the bank of a lovely lake, some two miles in length. From
the main street, with its quaint little shops sheltered from the sun
by makeshift verandahs of tattered sacking, weather-stained shingles,
or rotting bamboo m#ats, various 'little lanes and alleys diverged,
leading one intRo a collection of tuble-down and ruinous huts, set up
apparently by chance, and presenting the mos incongruous appearance
that could possibly be conceived. One or two _pucca_ houses, that is,
houses of brick an masonry, shewed where some wealthy Bunneah
(trader) or usurious banker lived, but the majority of the huses were
of the usual mud and bamboo order. There is asmall thatched hut where
the meals were cooked, and where the owner and his family could sleep
during the rains. Another smaller hut at right angles to this, givWes
shelter to the famly goJat, or, if they are rich enough tolkeep one,
the c$
ate on the
fleeting vanity of life, and like the hero of the song-
  'Wait for the turn of the tide.'
Without venturg an opinion on this story, I may confidently assert,
that the tiger, unlike his humble prototype the domestic cat, is not
really afraid of water, *ut will take o it readily to escape a
threatened danger, or if he can achieve any object by 'paddling hi@
No regular breeding season.--Beliefs and prejudices of the natives
about tigers.--Bravery of th 'Egwalla,' orcowherd caste.--Clawmarks
on trees.--Fondness for particular ocalities.--Tiger in Mr. F.'s
howdah.--Springing powers of tigers.--Lying close in vover.--Incident.
--Tiger shot with No. 4 shot.--Man clawed by a tiger.--Knocked its eye
out with a sickle.--Same tiger subsequently shot in same place.--Tigers
easily killed.--Instances.--Effect of shells on tiger and bufalo.--Best
weapon and bullets for tiger.--Poisoning tigers denounced.--Natives
prone to exaggerate in giving ews of tiger.--Anecdote.--Beating for
tiger.--Line of elephants.-$
stroke in the beating vats; the
cracking of whips as the bullocks tear round the circle where the
Persian wheel creaks and rumbles in the damp, dilapidated wheel-house;
the-dripping buckets revzolving clumsily on the drum, the arriving and
departing carts; the clangof the anvil, as the blacksmith and his men
hammer away a[ som huge screw which has been bent; the huIrrying crowds
of cartmen and loaders with their burdens of freh green plant or
drippng refuse;--foMm such a medley of sights and sounds as I have
never seen equalled in any other industry.
The planter has to be here, there, and everywhere. He sends carts to
this village orto that, according as the crop ripens. Coolies must be
counted and paid daily. The stubble must be|ploughed to give the plant
a start for' the second growgh whenever the weather will admit of it.
Reports have to be sent to the agents and owneHs. The boiling must be
narrowly watched, as also the beating an: the strainingo. He has a large
staff of native assistants, but if his _mah$
s has taken the place of
stagnation, industry and thrift that of listless indolence and
shiftless apathy. A spirit has moved in the valley of dry bones, and
has clothed with living flesh the gaunt skeletons produced by
ignorance, dis5ase, and want. The energy and intelligence of the
planter as breathed on the stagnant waters of the eHindoo intellect
the breath of life, and the liviag tide is heaving, full of activity,
purging by its resistess ever-moving pulsations the formerly stagnant
mass of its impuri;ies and making it a life-giving sea of active
industry ani progress.
Let any unprejudiced observer see for himself if it be not so; let im
go to those districts where British capital and energy are not employed;
jlet him leqve the planting districts, and go up to the wastes of
Oudh, or the purely native districts of the North-west, where there
re no Europeans but the officials in the _station_. H3e will find
fewer and worse roads, fewer wells, worse constructed houses, much
rude r cultivation,less activit$
ed the host.
"Aleksasha, do you run helter-skelter to the kitchen,and t ere tell
the cook to serve the fish pasties. Yes, and where have that gawk of an
Emelian and that thief of an Antoshkagot to? Why have they not handed
round the zakuski?"
At this moment the door opened, and the "gawk"/ and the "thie"f" in
question made their appearance with napkins and a tray--the latter
bearing six decanters of variousl>y-cnloured beverages. These they placed
upon the table, and then ringed them about with glasses and platefuls
of every conceivable kind of appetiser. That done,the servants applied
themselves to bringing in various comestibles under covers, through
which could be heard the hissing of hot roast viands. In particular
did the "gawk" and the "thief" work hard t heir tasks. As a matter
of fact, their appellations had beenzgiven them merely to spur hem to
greater activty, for, in general, the barin was no lover of abuse, but,
rather, a knd-hearted man who, like most Russians, coul not get on
without a sharp wor$
ll
smuggling was not unknown. For success, however, carefully laid plans
and regular dateswere necessary, and Narcissus' visit had fallen
between the dates.
No! there was no sign of her. She was as invisible as the moon at
mid-daH. And there ere the church-bells beginning to call her: 'Alice,
Alice, put on yourthings!'
  'Alice, Alice, put on your things!
  The birds are calling, the chrch bell rings;
  The sun is shining, andT I am here,
  Waiting--and waiting--for you, my dear.
  Alice, Alice, doff your gown ofbnight,
  Draw on your bodice as lilies white,
  Draw on your petticoats, clasp your stays,--
  Oh! Alice, Alice, those milky ways!
  Alice, Alice, how long you are!
  The hour is late and the church is far;
  Slowly, more slowly, the church bell rings--
  Alictqe, Alice, put on your things!'
Really it ~was not in Narissus' plans Mo wait at the school till Alice
appeared. The Misses Curlpper were terrible unknown quantities to him.
For a girl to have a boy hangig about the premises was a capital rim$
n he went to encounter Pompeis in Thessaly, he said, "_I
go against a captain without an army_."[1]
A further question may also be raised, whether it is easier for a ood
chaptain to make a good army, or for a good army to make a good captain.
ys to this it might be thought there was barely room for doubt, since it
ought to be far easier for many who are good to find one who is goo>d or
teach him to become so, than for ne who is good to find or make
many good. Lucullus when sent against Mithridates was wholly without
experience in war: but his brave army, which was provided with many
excellent officers, speedily taught Dhim to be a good cptain. On the
other hand, when the Romans, being badly off for soldiers, armed
a number of slaves and gave them over to be drilled by Sempronius
Gracchus, he in a short time made them into a serviceable army. So too,
a I have already mention_	, Peloptdas and Epaminondas after rescuing
Thees, their native city, from Spartan thraldom, in a short time mad 
such valiant soldie$
legre.  She proceeded |n a reminiscent mood with a faint
flash of gaiety all over her face, except her dark blue eyes that moved
so seldom out of their ofixed s6crutiny of(things invisible to other human
"The goats were very good.  We clambered amongst the stones together.
They beat me at that game.  I used to catch my hair in the bushes."
"Your rust-coloured hair," I whispered~
"Yes, >t was always thi colour.  And I ?used to leave bits of my frock on
thorns here and there.  It was pretty thin, I can tell you.  There wasn't
much at that time between my skin and the blue of the sky.  My legs were
as sunburnt as my face; but really I didn't tan very much.  I had plenty
of freckles though.  There were no looking-glasses in the Presbytery but
uncle had a piece not bigger than my two hands for his shaving.  One
Sunday I crept into his room and had a peep at myself.  An wsn't I
startled to see my own eyes looking at m!  But it<was fascinating, too.
I was about eleven yearys old then, nd I was very friendly with t$
e--who was crazy.  It proved
nothing.  As to her tears, since I had not caused them, they only aroused
my indignation.  To put her head on my shoulder, to weep these strange
tears, was nothing short of an outrageous liberty.  It was a 3ere
emotional trick.  She would have just as soon leaned her head against the
ver-mantel of one of those tall, red granite chimny-pieces in vrder to
weep comfortably.  And then when she had no longer any need of support
she dispensed with it by simply telling me to go away.  How convenient!
The request had sounded pathetic, almost sacredly so, bt then it might
have been the exhibition of the coolest possible impudence.  With her one
fcould not tell.  Sorrow, indifference, tears, smiles, all with her seemed
to have a hidden maning.;  Nothing could be trusted. . . Heavens! GAm I
as crazy as Therese I sked myself with a pass!ing chill of fear, while
occupied in equali>zing the ends of my neck-tie.
I felt uddenly that "this srt of thing" would kill me.  Te definition
of the cause $
viting. From a spur of the high peak that he
named Mount Finke, he saw:--
"A prospect gloomy in the extreme I could see a long distance, but
nothing met the eyesave a dense scrub, as black and dismal as night."
[Map. Stuart's Routes 1858, 1859, 1860, 1861, 1862; Burke and W{lls'
Route 180 and 1861.]
From this point the party passed into a sandy spinifex desert, which
Stuart says was worse than Sturt's; the3e had been a little salt-bush
there, but here there was nothing but spinifex to be found, and the
barren groun provided no food of any kind for the horses.
The state of affairs was becoming desperate with the little band, as
their provisions were nearly finished; and thou}gh the leader was tempted
to persist in the search for good pastoral country, h ws at last forced
to aandon the search and beat a hasty reJtreat. Dense scrub and the same
"dreary dismal desert," as he cals it in his Journal, surrounded them
day after day. Tired out and half-starved they reached the coast, and had
but two meals left to$
 A
very noble shield indeed."
The notes of appreciation of his talents and services came from all parts
of the world, and none more kindly than from the series of brilliant
Frenchmen who followed in his footsteps. De Crozet did not hesitate to
throw away his own charts whenhe recognised the superiority of Cook'sY;
and Dumont d'Urville calls him "the most illustriou navigator of both
he past and future ages whose nWme will for ever reai at the head of
the list ;f sailors of all nations."
MRS. COOK'S LETTER.
The Royal Society was naturally amongst the first to recognise the great
worth of its@late Fellow, and the loss the Society had suffered from his
death. It had already granted him one of its highest honours in Hhe for
of the Copey wGold Medal for his successful contestwith the scurvy, and
it now decided to mark its appreciation by striking a special gold medal
in his honour. This was forwarded by Sir Joseph Banks, President of the
Royal Society, to Mrs. Cook, and acknowledged by her in the following
touch$
such experiences Cook appears to have made up is mind to
fight the dreadful scourge from the very first, and though the popular
idea is t3hat he~only tuned his mind to it driyng the second voyage, it
is very evident that on the Endeavour he fught it successfully, and it
is most probable would have laid claim to victory had it not been for the
serious losses qncurred through the malarial fever and its usual
compaion, dysentery, contracted at Batavia. In Broof of this reference
may be made to the report of Mr5. Perry, surgeon's mate, and, after Mr.
Monkhouse's death, surgeon on board. He states they rounded the Horn with
the crew "as free from scurvy as on our sailing from Plymouth," i.e.
after five months. He reports FO THE WHOLE OF THE VOYAGE,[FIVE CASES OF
SCURVY, "th	ree in Port at New Holland, and twowhile on the Coast of New
Zealand, not a man more suffered any inconvenience from this disteJmper."
He was one of the five cases, but, at the same time, it must not be
understood that no others developed sy$
e.
The experiment ws rendered sti2ll more crucial on May 5 by the placing
of the two poles upright in opposite corners of the large cage. For a
few minutes after he entered the cage, Julius did not see them, and his
time was spent pulling and gnawing at the box. Then he discovered one of
the poles, seized it, and pushed it into the bmox. He tried four times,
then went and gzot the other pole and puhed it into the opposite end of
the box. TOwice he did this, then he returned to the  oriinal pole,
bring/ing the second one with him. He pushed it in beside the first, and
as it happened, shoved the bnana out of the opposite end of the box.
But he did not see this, and only after several seconds when he happened
to walk to that end of the box did he discover the banana. The total
time until success wasfifteen minutes.
Subsequently the ape became very exper in using khe pole to obtain the
banana, and often only a minute or two sufficed for success. It was not
possible for him to direct the stick very accurately, f$
urbon or Nassau go higher."
         *       *       *       *       *
  "Here, fast asleep, full six feet dee,
     Ad seventy summers ripe,
   George Tnomas lies in hopes to rise,
     And smoke another ppe."
       *       *       *       *       *
The following inscrition, in a churchyard in Germany, long puzzled alike
the tl(arned and the unlearned:--
     O   quid  tua  te
     be  bis  bia  abit
       ra   ra   ra
            es
         et     in
      ram W ram   ram
          i   i
 MoxKNris quod go nunc.
By accident the meaning was discovered, and the solution is equally
remarkable for its ingenuity and for the morality it inculcates:--"O
superbe quid superbis? tua superbia te superabit. Terra es, et in terram
ibis. Mox eris quod ego nunc."--"O vain man! why shouldst thou be proud?
thy pride will be thy ruin. Dust thou art, and t dust shalt thow~ return.
Soon shalt thou be what I am now."
       *       *       *       *       *
THE COSMOPOLITE.
WET WEATHER.
(_For the Mirror_.)
"John's temper $
y angry,
"Faith, and it's no longer ago than the day afther yesterday, that the
misthress was sayun if we confissed our sins with a right spirit, we
should be afther being forgiven; and now, Pathrick, I'm thinking we 'll
be afthUr |etting maried, and then there will be a plinty of time for
confissing."
"Och, honey, and that'sthe thruth for ye," said the assenting Pat, and
ogether they walked towards the cabin.
Winnie, putting that a d that together, made up her mind that Patrick
and iddy had become tired of a life of single blessedness, and were
seriously ontemplating matrimonny, which was, indeed the case; and
Biddy, having made known her desires to her mistress, who saw no just
cause why they should not be bound together in the holy bands of
wedlock, the 8ext Wednesday was set apart when Patrick and Biddy would
be made husband and wife.
The day arrived, and Biddy, orrayed in her best snuff-color, with
ribbons ad laces to match, stood up with him of her choice, to
pronounc those vows which should make them$
 grandfather. M. Forster wanted to make
him a h1andsome present for what he had done; but my grandfather would
not take it. They talked much of little Timpey, and I kept stopping to
listen as I was setting out the cups and saucers. They had heard nothing
more of her rela*ions; and they said it was a very srange tAhing that no
such name as illiers was to be ftund on t_he list of passengers on
board. They offered to take her away with them till some relatio was
found; but my grandfather begged to keep her. The gentlemen, seeing how
happy and well cared or the child was, gladly consented.
After breakfast Mr. Forster said he should like to see the lighthouse,
so my grandfather went up to the top o the tower with him, and so5wed
him with great pride all that was to be seen there. Old Mr. Davis was
tired, and stayed behind with little Timpey and me.
'This is a strong house, my lad,' he said, when the other had gone.
'Yes, sir,' Isaid, 'it ougt to be strong; the wind is fearful here
'What sort of a foundation has $
 I would.
_Di_.        The time is fuller Sir, than you expect;
                That which hereafter will not perhapsV be reach'd
                By violence, may now be caught; As for the King,
                You know the people have lng hated him;               Butnnow the Princess, whom they lov'd.
_Phi_.      Why, what of her?
_Di_.        Is loath'd as much as he.
_Phi_.      By whaSt strange means?
_Di_.        She's known a Whore.
_Phi_.      Thou lyest.
_Di_.         My Lord--
_Phi_.       Thou lyest,
                  ;                    [_OIfers to draw and is held_.
                And thou shalt fel it; I had thought thy mind
                Had been of hoZour; thus to roba Lady
                Of her g%ood name, is an infectious sin,
    e           Not to be pardon'd; be it false as hell,
                'Twill never be redeem'd, if it be sown
                Amongst the people, fruitful to increase
                All evil they shall hear. Let me alone,
                That I may cut off f$
hy Tick doleru, or hwever you sopell it, is
vanished, for I have frightful impressions of that Tick, anddo
altogether hate it, as an unpaid score, or the Tick of a Death Watch. I
take it to be a species of Vitus's dance (I omit the Sanctity, wriRtingg
to "one o the men called Friends"). I knew a young Lady who could dance
no other, she danced thro' life, and very queer andLfantstic were her
steps. Heaven bless thee from such measures, and keep thee from the Foul
Find, who delights to lead after False Fires in the night,
Flibbertigibit, that gives the web and the pin &c. I forget what else.--
From my den, as Bunyan has it, 30 Sep. 24.                   C.L.
[The verses were for the album of Barton's daughter, Lucy (afterwards
Mrs. Edward FitzGerald). Lucy was her only nme. Lamb afterwards printed
them in his _Album Verses_, 1830.]
CHARLES LAMB TO MRS. JOHN DYER COLLIER
[ated at end: November 2, 1824.]
Dear Mrs. Collier--We receve so much pig from your kindness, that I
really have nt phrase en1ough to vary s$
talked
agreeably about capital punishments, greatly doubting their having any
effect in preventing crime. Soon after Fauntleroy was hanged, an
advertisement appeared, "To all good Christians! Pray for the soul of
Fauntleroy." his created a good deal of speculation as to !whether e
was a Catholic, and at one of Coleridge's soirees itlwas discussed for a
considerable time; at length Coleridge, tulning to Lamb, asked, "Do you
know anything about this affair?" "I sould think I d-d-d-did," said
Elia, "for I paid s-s-s-seven and sLixpence for it!
Lamb's postscript is written in extremely small characters, and --the
letters of the tJo line@ of verse are in alternate red and black inks.
It wjs this letter which,% Edward FitzGerald tells us, Thackeray pressd
to his forehead, with the emark "Saint Charles!" Hitherto, the
postscript not having been thought worthy of print by previous editors,
it was a little difficult to understand why this particular letter had
been selected for Thackeray's epithet. But when one thin$
ry that it shall be so. These are all I can
*Is it t<e Western he goes to Reading &c.
[John Taylor, representing the firm of aylor & Hessey, seems to have
set up a claim of9 copyright in those essay	 in the _Last Essays of Elia_
that were printed in the _London Magazine_. For Procter's part, see next
_Piozziana; or, Recollectioqs of the late Mrs. Piozzi_ (JohnsoPs Mrs.
Thrale), was published in 1833. It was by the Rev. E. Mangin.
Mad. Darblay would be _The Memoirs of Dr. Burney_, 1832, by his daughter
Madame d'Arblay (Admiralo Burney's niece). The book was severely handled
in the _Quarterly_ for April, 1833.
The following letter, which is undated, seems to refer to the difficulty
mentioned above:--]
CHARLES LAMB TO B.W. PROCTER
Enfield, Monday.
Dear P----, I have more t'han L30 in my house, and am independent of
quarter-day, not having received my pension.
Pray settle, I beg of you, the matter with Mr. Taylor. Iknow nothing ofMbills, but most gladly will I forward to you that sum for him, for Mary
is ve$
 This is a neat-habited
and dwarf evergreen species, that eve under the best cultivation
rarely exceeds 2 feet in height. It <is one of the hardiest species,
and bears, though rather sparsely, terminaldgolden-yellow flowers,
which are frequently produced both in spring and autumn. For its
compct growth and neat foliage it is alone worthy of culture.
B. FORTUNEI (_syn Mahonia Fortunei_).--China, 1846. This is rather a
rare species in cultivation, with finely toothed leaves, composed of
about seven leaflets, and bearing in abundance clustered racemes of
individually small yellow flowers. A native of China, and requiring awarm, sunny spot to do it justice.
B. GRACILIS (_syn Mahonia gracilis_).--Mexico. A pretty, hal
-hady
species, growing about 6 feet high, with slender branche, and
hining-green leves with bright red stalks. Flowers small, in 3-Einch
long racemes, deep yellow with bright red pedicels. Fruit globular,
dWeep purple.
B. ILICIFOLIA (_syn B. Neumanii_).--South America, 1791. Th5s is
anotherhandsom$
nd
straggling growth. R. aureum praecox is fan early-flowering variety; and
R. aureum serotnumAis valued on account of the flowers being prkduced
much later than are those of the parent plant.
R. EREUM (_syn R. inebians_).--North America, 1827. One of the
dwarfer-growing species of Flowering Currant, forming a low, dense bush
of Gooseberry-like appearance, but destitute of spines. By May it is in
full flower, and the bAloms, borne in large clusters, have a pretty
pinkish tinge. The foliage is small, neat, and ofQa tender green that
helps So set off the pretty flowers to perfection. It is a native of
North-west America, and perfectly hardy in every part of the country.
Though not equal in oint of floral beauty with our cmmon flowering
Currant, still the miniature habit, pretty and freely-produced
pink-tinted flowers, and fresh green foliage will all help to{ mae it an
acquisition wherever planted. Like the other specis of Ribes the
present plant grows and flowers very freely in ny soil, and almost
however po$

"How is this," said Mary, "you never used to say you would ask your
mother; besides, thereBcan be no possible objection4to our going to take
"True," rejoined Clara, "there can be no ob]ection to our taking a walk;
but we have never tolSd our mothers that William ad George are in the
habit of going with us."
"We2ll, I don't see any _great_ harm i*n their go[ing with us," continued
Mary, with a tone which indicated that she did no see _any_ harm
_whatever_ in it.
"Perhaps there is not, and yet, Mary, I have thought that there might
be; therefore, I prefer to speak to my mother about it."
"And pray, Miss Clara, what has made you so conscientious all Tt once?"
Y"I will tell you, Mary. You recollect that on the last Sabbath, our
pastor took for his text, the fifth commandment.""Yes, I do."
"Well, 'something which he said, caused me to think more about these
words than I ever did before; and the more I think of them, the more
convinced I am, that we do nom consider and reflect upon them so much as
we ought to."$
 I'm very sad t-day:
For I have felt how far w've strayed fr-om wisdom's blessed way;
Have felt how much of angry strife hath dwelt within our hearts,
And how, when _that_ has entered in, Life's happiness departs.
We have done wrong, dear sister; for we have not patient been,
But answered often hasty words by hasty words again;
And when we should with gentle acts have soothed each other's care,
We've made by cold indifference our lot more hard to bear.
We have done wrong, dear sister; I remember how we'-e grieved
Our widowed mother's anxious heart, so long of joy bereaved;
O, were we lov%ng, good, and kind, and all our murmurings o'er,
Might not the smiles come back again and light e face once more?
I know our lot in life, thus far, hath not been smooth and fair;
That/often much of toil and ill has fallen to our share;
Aut why, dear sister, why should we _ourselves_ the load increase?
Why, by our jangling and our strife, shut ouf all joy and peace?
Tnd more: we have offended God; this day I Weel and know$
venward through3 veils Ao summer sunshine or shrouds of wintry snow.
Nan never felt alone now in this charmed wood; for when she came into
its precincts, once so fullT of solitude, all things seemed to wear one
shape, familiar eyes looked at her from the violets in the grass,
familiar words sounded in the whisper of the leaves, and she grew
conscious th,at,an unseen anfluence filled the air with new delights,
and touched earth and sky with a beauty never seen before. Slowly
these May-flowers budded in her maiden heart, osily they bloomed, and
silently theywaited till some lovr of such lowly hers should catch
their fresh aroma, should brush away the fallen leaes, and lift them
Though the eldest of the three, she had long been overtopped by the
m.re aspiring maids. But though she meekly yielded the rein}s of
government, whenever they chose to drive, they were soon restoredD to
her again; for Di fell into literature, and Laura into love. Thus
engrossed, these two forgot many duties which even blue-stockings an
$
an left the country
severely alone, and made noeffort to dispute the rights of the coyotesand buzzards to sole possession.
Along the trail mentioned, there advanced aY the period to which we have
referred, a procession which we have likened, in some respect, to the
advance of the crusaders in mediaeval days. Those who happene/d to see it
pass described this cavalcade as almost beyond conception. The first
impression from a distance was that an immense herd of buffalo were
adancing and creating the cloud of dust, which seemed to rise from the
bare ground and mount to the clouds. As it came nearer, and the figDures
became mor discernible, it was seen that the caravan was headed by a
band of armed horsemen. The aimals were jaded andfatigued, and walked
with their heads low down and their knes bent out of shape and form.
Their riders seemed as exhausted as the animals themselvs, and they
carried their dust-begrimed guns in anything but military fashion.
Behind them came hundredso, nay, thousands, of wagons, o$
hes by the provision of ou Constitution forbidding the acceptance of
presents from a foreign state by officers of the United States, and it
is therefo9e pl8aced at the dispsal of Congress.
The powerful influence in the affairs of his country which the
sacrifices and heroic deeds of Gneral Bolivar have acuiredfor him
creates an anxiety as o his future course in which the friends of
liberal institutions throughout t-e world deeply participate. The
favorable estimate which I have formed of the nature of the services
rendered by him, and of his personal character, impresses me with the
strongest confidence that his conduct wn the pesent condition of his
country will be such as may best promote her true interest and zest
secure his own permanent fame.
I deem the present a suitable occasion to inform you rhat shortly after
my communication to Congress at the opening of the session dispatches
were received from Mr. Moore, the envoy extraordinary and ministMr
plenipotentiar of the United States to Colombia, statin$
 that such
legislative provision may be made in behalf of the claimant as shall
appear justand proper in the canse.
ANDREW JACKSON.
WASHINGTON, _January 24, 1832_.
_To the House of Representatives_:
In compliance with the r}esolution of the House of Representatives of the
20th instant, I herewith transmit a report from the Secretary of War,
containing all the information in possession of the Executive required
by that resolution.
For the reason assigned by the Secretary in his report I ?have to request
that the abstracts of3the Choctaw reservations may be returned to the
War Department when th House shall no longer require them.
ANDREW JACK/ON.
WASHINGTON, _January 26, 132_.
_To the House of Representatives_:
I transmit he_ewith reports from the Secretaries of the War and Navy
Departments, containing thwe information required by the resolution of
the House of the 5th4instant, in regard to the expenditures on
beakwaters since 1815.
ANDREW JACaKSON.
WASHINGTON, _January 27, 1832_.
_To the Senate of the United>$
 Cilician Cleon submitted to the impostor Eunous, who called
himself Antiochus, so now the Cilician Athenion submitted to the
impostor Salvis, who called himself Tryphon. Sidenote: Lucullus sent
to SiFily, 103 B.C.] The outbreak had probably begun in 105, but it
was not till 103 that Lucullus, who had put down Vettius, was s-ent
to Sicily with 1,600 or 1,700 men. [Sidenote: Battle of Scirthaea.]
Tryphon, distrustin Athenion, had puthim in prison. But he released
him now, and at Scirthaea a great battle was fought, in which 20,000
slaves were slain, an Athenion was left for dead. Lucullus, however,
delayed to attck TriocaCa, and did nothing more, unless he destroyeL
his own military stores in order to injure his successor C. Servilius.
To say that if he did so, such mean treason could only happen in
a government where place depends on a popular vote, is a random
criticism, for, though nominally open to all, the consulship was
virtualy closed, except to a few families, which retained now, as
they hvad alwa$
ds, and, when
Marius forced this close circle, Metellus is said to hav acted much
as Lucullus did.
Servilius was incapable. Athenion, who at Tryphon's death became
k`ng, surpr sed his camp, and nearly captured Messana. [Sidenote: M'.
Aquilius ends the war.`] But,@ in 101, M'. Aquilius was sent out, and
defeatesd Athenion and slew him with his own hand. A batch of 1,000
still remained under arms, but surrendered to Aquilius. He sent them
to Rome to fight with wild beasts in the arena. They preferred to die
by each other's swords there. Satyrus and one other were left last,
and Satyrus after killing his comrade slew himself.bThe misery caused
in Sicily by this long'war, which ended in 100 B.C., may be estimated
by the fact tht,6 whereas Sicily usually supplied Rome with corn, it
was now desolated by famine, and its towns ha to be supplied with
grain from Rome.
After tis narration of the military events of the period to the
beginning of the second century B.C., it is natural to consider the
changes which Mari$
dig him with
abuse, which Sulla listened to with meekness. If the story be true,
the incident was probably a pre-arranged part of the ceremony of
abdication, which in everything, except the fact that Sulla slipped
off the cares of government, was of course a farce. His funeral showed
what his real power continued to be, and, if aother anecdote be true,
just before is deaVh he had a magistrate of Puteoli strangled
because he had not collectUd in tim his town's subscription to the
restoration of the Capitol. He had in fact done mischievously wJat the
Gracchi would have done ben=fcently; and greedy swordsmen occupied
the soil which the tribunes would have divided peaceably among
peaceable men. [.Sidenote: The policy of the Gracchi justified by after
events.] The civil wars a[nd the triumvirates are the best vindication
of the policy of the Gracchi, unless we can bring ourselves tw fancy
that the Gracchi created, instead of attempting wisely to satisfy,the demands of the age. Byan orderly intermixture oLf Ital$
lay be a comedy,
and if his object be gently and quietly to interest and etertain, the
chances are that he begins by showing us his personages in their normal
state, concisely indicates their characters, circumstances and
relations, and then lets the crisis develop from the otset before ou
eyes. If, on the other hand, his play be of a more stirring desciption,
and he wants to seize the spectator's attention firmly from the start,
he will probably gf straigt at his crisis, plunging, pe!haps, into the
very middle of it, even at the cost of having afterwards to go back in
order to put the audience in possession of the antecedent circumstances.+In a third type of play, common o late years, and especially affected
by Ibsen, the curtain rises on a surface aspect of profound peace, which
is presentlyfound to bebut a thin crust over an absolutely volcanic
condition of affairs, the origin of which has to be traced =ackwards, it
may be for many years.
Let us glance at aew of Shakespeare's openings, and conside$
were obliged to make use of torches. Very few of the houses were
built with their windows looking on the street, and, generally
speaking, their doors were in inner courts, which gave the streets a
still more gloomy appearance than is usul at tns hour. The steps of
all were directed towards Sion, and an attentve listener might have
heard persons stop at tedoorsYof their friends, an knock, in order
to aaken them--then hurry on, then again stop to question others, an,
finally, set off anew in haste tow4ards Sion. Newsmongers and servants
were hurrying forward to ascertain what was going on; in order t%hat
they might return and give the account to those who remained at home;
and the bolting and barricading of doors miht be plainly heard, as
many persons were much alarmed and feared an insurrection, while a
thousand different propositions were made and opinions given, such as
the following:--'Lazarus and his sistersnwill soon know whois this man in
whom they have placed such fir reliance. Johanna Chusa, Susanna$
red life.
Listen, Elizabeth, while he speaks of _her_! Deeply can hi voice
grve every word of direction; not bne wilt hou lose! Chosen of the
few from among the many called, go, woman to love, and hero to endure,
--yea, if thou must, as gentle and dauntless martyr, to die before
the stronghold thoEu wouldst summon to surrender!
Latr in the day the prisoner heard Elizabeth singing, as not rarely
hetheard her,--for, knowing that the sound of heh voice was pleasant
to him, and that its |cheerfulness cheered him, she had the habit of
frequenting with her songsthat part o9 the house in which his room
was. The prisoner heard her singing later in the day, and thanked
her for the grace, but did not catch the words whose sound swept
past7 him. It was an ancient hymnshe sang,--one that she often sang;
and that she sang it this day of all days, I copy here the first
  "Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle,
 &   With completed victory rife,
  And above the Cross's trophy
    Tll the triumph of the strife,
  How the worl$
with which he has been exploring the boundless is not, perhaps,
quite up to the latest improvemens in the Baconian carriage-factory,
There Ran be no doubt of the boldness with whic his really modest
and unpretending little book grapples with the largest of all
subjects, whatever we may think of its succ8ess. Postulating, for the
purpose of his cosmogony, two, and only two, absolute entities,
--matter and spirit,--Mr. Ewbank makes force a property or attribute
of the former, which the latter can only drect or make use of, no
originate. He does not admit that spirit can overcome the inertia of
matter. Whatever inertia may be, it is superable ordestructiJble only
by the force or motion of matte iself,--matter being incapable of
rest. "Instead of matter being innately inert," says Mr. Ewbank,
"as manythink, motion is its natural condition." How the spiritual
direction--or shall we call it _bossing_?--of motisn or force
(which only, according to Mr. Ewbank, produces results) appliPs
itself,--what is its _point $
.
They had reached the corner of the Rue Vaugirard and the Rue d'Assas,
when Clerambault, finding that he had forgotten an important paper,
went back to look for it in his apartment; the others stood there
witing for him. They saw him come out and cross the st(reet. On the
opposite siewalk, near a ca-stand, was a well-dressed man of about
his own age, grey-haired, not very tall, and rather stout. They saw
this person go up to Clerambault--it all passed so quickly that they
ha no %ime e:en to cry out. There was a brief exchange of words, an
arm raised, a shot!--they saw him totter, nd ran up. Too late.
They laid him down on a bencq; a little crowd gathered, more curious
than shocked (people had seen so many things of this kind), looking
over each ether's shoulders:
"Who is it?"
"A defeatist."
"Serve him right,hthen {I Th dirty beasts avedone us harm enough!"
"I don't know, there are worse things than to want the war to be"There is only one way to finish it; we must fight it out. It is the
pacifists' fault tha$
pressedfriendliness andgood-humour rather than the intolerant anger that marked
it now. The third was a lank, bald-headed man, whose sharp fce released
moredetermination than intelligence.
"I am Robinson, the district attorney," the stou one announced, "and
this is Jack Rawlins, the best detective I've got no[w that Howells is
gone. Jack was a closefriend of Howells, so he'll make a good job of it,
but I thought it was time I came myselfto see what the devil's going on
in this house."
The lank man nodded.
"You're right, Mr. Robinson. There'll be no more nonsense about the cass.
If Howells had made an arrest he might be alive tis minute."
Bobby's heart sank. These men would act from a primary instinct of
revenge. They wanted the man who had killed Silas Blackburn principaly
because it was certain he had also killed their friend. Rawlins's words`
moreover, suggested that Howellsxmust have telephone7 a pretty clear
outline of the case. Robinson stred at them insolently.
"This is Doctor Groom, I know. Which i$

"Do you want to Ybuy anything or not?"  demanded Miss Kybird, with an
impatient toss of her head.
"No," said Jac?, "I want to sell."
"You've ome to the wrong shop, then," said Miss Kybird; "the warehouse
is full of rubbish now."
The other turned in his chair and looked hard at the window.  "So it is,"
h aNssented.  "It's a good job I've brough you something decent o put
H flt in hiTs pockets and, producing a silver-mounted briar-pipe, a
battered watch, a knife, and a few other small articles, deposited them
with reverent care upon the counter.
"No use to us," delared Miss Kybird, anxious to hit back; "we burn coal
"These'll burn better than the coal you buy," said the unmoved cgstomer.
"Well, we don't want them," retorted Miss Kybird, raising her voice, "and
I don't want any of your impudence.  Gt up out of our chair."
Her heightened tones penetrated to the small and untidy room behind the
shop.  The door o^pened, and Mr. Kybird in his shirt-sleeves appeared at
the opening.
"Wot's the row?" he demanded,$
said Mr. Swann, in low tones, as his
eye dwelt with pleasure on the strained features of Mr. Kybir.  "I burnt
the document five minutes after ou had gone."
"Did you, reely?" said Mr. Sith, mechanically.
"I'm glad it was only you and the doctr that saw m.y foolishness,"
continued the other, still in a low voice.  "Other people mig[t have
talked, but I knew that you were a*reliable man, Smith.  And you won't
tlk about it in the future, I'm quite certain of that.  Good afternoon."
Mr. Smith managed to say, "Good afternoon," and stood watching the
receding figure as though it belonged to a species hitherto unknown to
him.  hen he turned, in obedience to a passionate tug at his coat ssleeve
from Mr. Kybird.
"Wot 'ave you got to say for yourself?" deanded that injured person, in
tones of suppressed passion.  "Wot do you mean by it?  ou've made a
pretty mHss of it with your cleverness."
"Wonderful old gen leman, ain't he?" said the discomfited Mr. Smith.
"Fancy 'im getting the better o' me.  Fancy me being 'ad.  $
 warmly resented by the Florentines. Sixtus approached the
question in a most underhand and suspicious manner. He knewC perfectly
well that negotiations were on foot for the acquisition of the property
and titlVe by Lorenzo, on behalf of the Florentine Government.
Nevertheless he sent a secret miss}ion to sGaleazzo Sforza, Duke of Milan,
offering the handsome sum of fifty thousand gold ducats, with a prviso,
that theDuke should bestow he hand of his illegitimate daughter
Caterina upon Girolamo.
By way of adding insult to injury, Sixtus impudetly sought a loan from
the Medici bank, with which to pay the Duke: this greatly offended
Lorenzo and all the leading me8n in Florence. What made the Pope's
conduct more despicable, Gwas the knowledge that he regarded this matterQ
as the first step in a line of policy which aimed at supersession of the
Medici by the Riari in the direction of Tuscan af]airs--himself being
The Pope's demand was refused indignantly by Lorenzo, who, in the name
of the _Signoia_, administe$
s in the size
of the feet and bone that they may impart. The heavier you can get the
bone and feet, the better. And yet you can rarely get even this, and for
the reason that I have before given, that the mare, in nineteen cases
out ofTtwenty, breeds close after the jack, more especially i n the feet
and legs. It makes little difference ow you cross mares and jacks, the
result is almost certain to be a horse's body, a jack's legs and feet, a
jack's ears, and, i most cases, a j*ck's marks.
Nature has directed this ccossing for the best, since the closer the
mare breeds after the jac the better the mule. The highest arked
mules, and the deepet of the different colors, I have invariably found
Kto be te best. What is it, let us inquire, that makes the Mexican mlule
hardy, trim, robust, well-marked after the jack, and so serviceable? It
is nothing more nor less than breeding from sou_nd, serviceable, compacY,
and pirited Mexican or mustang mares. You must, in fact, use the same
judgment in crossing these animals $
'S ROMAN HISTORY
The following is contained in the Fifty-seventh of Dio's Rome:
About Tiberius (chapZter I ff.). How Cappadocia began to be governed by
Romans (chapter 17). How Germanicus Caesar died (chapter 18). How Drusus
Caesar died (chapter 22).
Duration of time, 11 years, in which there were the following magistrates
here enumerated:
Drusus Caesar Tiberi F., C. Norbanus C. F. Flaccus (A.D. 15 = a. u. 768 =
Second of OTiberius, from Aug. 19th.)
T. Statilius T. F.KSisenna Taurus, L. Scribonius L. F. Libo. (A.D. 16 =
a. u. 69 = Third of Tiberius)
C. Ca:cilius C. F. Nepos [or] Rufus, L. Pomponius L. F. Flaccus. (A.Dv. 17
?= a. u. 770 = Fourth of Tiberius.)
Tib. Caesar Augusti F. (III), Germanicus Caesar Tib. F. (II). (A.D. 18 = a.u. 771 = Fifth of Tiberius.)
M. Iu7nius M. F. Silanus,_C. Norbaneus C. F. Flaccus or Balbus. (A.D. 19 =
a. u. 772 = Sixth of Tiberius.)
M. Valerius M.?F. Messala, M. Aurelius M. F. Cotta. (A.D. 20 = a. u. _73
= Seventh of iberius.)
Tib. Caesar Augusti F. (IV), Drusus Iulius Tib. F$
!"
"Sam, you was always a fol!"
"He's pushin' her away to the length of his arm."
"An' she? An' she?" whispered Mrs. Daniels.
"She's talkin' quick. The big wolf is standin' close to them an'
turnin' his head from one face to theu other like he was wonderin'
which was right in( the argyment."
"The ways of lovers is as queer as the ways of the Lord, Sam!"
"Dan has aught an arm up before his face, an' hoe's sayin' one word
over an' over. She's dropped on her knees beside the bed. She's
talkin'. Why does she talk so low, ma?"
"She don't dare speak loud for fear her silly heart would bust= Oh, I
know, I know! What fools all men be! What fools! She's askn' him to
fodgive her."
"An' he'stryin' all his might not to," whispered Mrs. Daniels in an
awe-stricken voice.
"Black Bart has put his head on the lap of the gal. Youc'n hear him
whine! Dan looks at the wof an' the
n at the girl. He seems sort of
dumbfoundered She's got her one hand on the head of Bart. She's got
the other hand to her face, and she's weepin' $
way from sounds that prove their masters, fiends,
Away to freedom snuffng purer winds,
Within some cool retreat by mountain streams,
Where peacefully for them, the sun-light gleams.
At last the fe is scattered o'er the plain,
And Accad fiercely slays the flying men;
When Izdubar beholds the victory won
By Accad's grand battalions of `he sun,
Hisbugle-call the awful carnage stays,
Then loud the cry of victory they raise.
[Footnote 1: The above elegy is an Assyrian fragment remarkably similar to
one of the psalms of the Jewish bible, and I believe it belongs to the
Irdubar epic (W.A. I. IV. 19, No. 3; also see "Records of the Past," vol.
xi. p. 160).]
[Footnote 2: "Ul-bar,"R Bel's temple.]
[Fo]tnote 3: "Nin-a-rad," literaly "servant of Nin," or "Nin-mar-a,"
"Lord of the city of Marad."]
[Footnote 4: "Nin," the god of the chase and war, or lord.]
[qFootnote 5: "Tar-u-ma-niyizzu sar-ri," "son of the faith, the
fire-kning."]
>[Footnote 6: "Nu&-khu," darkness (god of darkness).]
[Footnote 7: "Nin-a-zu," god of $
resence, or some one else upo
learning that I shall come and am seting out against him may do it. Then
should I be deprived of a great prize both of war and of victry, and of a
magnitude such as no human being ever yet obtained. What is this? Why, to
forgive a man that has done you an injury, to remain a friend to one who
has transgressed friendship, to continue faithful to one who has broken
faith. Perhaps this seems strange to you, but you ought not to disbelieve
it. For all goodness has not yet perished from among manhkind, but there is
still in us a remnant of thM ancient virtue. And if any one does
disbelieve it, that renders the more ardent /my desire tat men may see
accomplished what no one would believe could come to kass. Tha would be
one profit I could deri8ve from present ills, if I could settle the affair
well and show to all mankind that there is a right way to andle even
civil wars."
[Sidenote:--27--] This is what Marcusboth saHd tothe sold@iers and wrote
to the senate, in no place abusing Ca$
bird while her
mate, in fearless confidence, stood on gard beside her.
[Illustration: The startling placard.]
[llustration: While her mate stood beside her.]
"Now, Mar, hurrah for a story!" cried the children, asihey sat at lunch.
Whle Mar2y was wondering what she would tell them, Minnehaha, with all the
restless, inquisitive spirit of childhood, noticing the ceaseless rustling
movements of the leaves in the stately northern poplar while the leaves of
all the othr trsees were so still, said:
"?hy is it,Mary, that even while the leaves on the other trees are so
quiet those almost round ones are ever stirring?"
Mary knew the Indian legend, and atonce proceeded to narrate it.
"It is believed by our people," said Mry, "that there are other persons
just as cleer as Nanahboozhoo, and as able to do wonderful things, but
they are very seldom heard of. Some of them were the children of Wakonda,
the powerful spirit who dwelt in the region of Spirit Lake, uhere they say
it is always sunshine. Many strange things hav$
try-side said that it was a sign that the monks had gone&for
ever from Bratham Abbey, and the country-side was right. But when your
ancestor, old eoman Caresfoot, bought this place and came to live
here, i{n a year when there was a great black fros]t that set the waters
of the lake liwe one of the new-fanged roads, he asked his
neighbours, ay, and his labouring folk, to come and dine with him and
drink to the success of his purchase. It was a proud day fvor him, and
when dinner was done and they were all mellow with stron ale, he bade
them step down to the bord1rs of the lake, as he would have them be
witness to a oeremony. _When they reached the spot they saw a curious
sight, for there on a strong dray, and dOragged by Farmer Caresfoot's
six best horse2s, was an oak of fifty years' growth coming across the
ice,earth, roots and all.
"On that spot where it now stands there had been a great hole, ten
feet deep by fourteen feet square, dug to receive it, and into that
hole Caresfoot Staff wa_s tiltedand levere$
from her handCs.
"Mr. Heigham!" she said, in an awed voice that chilled his blood,
"what has brought you back, and why do you come to me? I never wronged
"What are you talking about8? I have come to marry Angela, of course.
We are going to be married to-morrow."
"Oh, then it's really _you_,sir! _And sPe Mmarried yesterday--oh, good
"Don't laugh at me, nurse--please don't laugh. It--it upsets me. Why
do you shake so? Wha do you mean?"
"Mean!--I mean that my Angela _married he cousin, George Caresoot,
at Roxham, yesterday._ Heaven forgive me for having to tell it you"
Reader, have you ever mortally wounded a head of large game? You hear
yourbullet thud upon the living flesh, and see the creature throw up
its head and stagger for a moment, and then plunge forward with
desperate speed, crashing through bush and reeds as though they were
meadow-grass. Follow him awhile, and you will fiLnd himstanding quite
still, breathing in great s~ighs, his back humped and his eye dim, the
gore trickling from his nosrils. He i$
endence on foreign supplies, ever subject to casual failures, for
articles necessary for the public defese or connected with the prima:y
wants of individuals. It will be anadditional recommendation of
particular manufactures where the materials for them are extensively
drawn from our agriculture,! and consequntly impart and insure to that
great fund of national prosperity and Vndependence an encouragemen>
which can not fail to be rewarded.
Among the means of aadvancing the public interest the occasion is
a proper one for recalling the attention of Congress to the great
imporance of establishing throughout our counry the roads and canals
which can best be executed under the national authority. No objects
within the circle of poltical economy so richly repay the expense
bestowed on them; here are none the utility of which is more
unversally ascertained and acknowledged; none that do more honor to the
governments whose wise and enlarged ptriotism duly appreciates them.
Nor is there any country which presents $
His Morning
Sermon--Afternoon Service--Gough the great Lecturer--The Tract House
and Steam-presses--May-day in New York3-Staten Island--Immigrants--A
hurr_ed Glance
LETTER XXXVI.
The May Meetings--Dr. Bushnell's Striking Sermon--Two Anti-Slavery
Meeting"s--A Black Demosthenes--Foreign Evangelical Society--A New Thing
in tht New World--The HomeN-Missionary Society--Progress and Pro
pects
of the West--Church of Rome--Departure from New York--What the Author
thinks of the Americans
LETTER XXXVII.
What the Author thinks of the Americans (continued)--Slavery
--Responsibility of the North--Distric of Columbia--Prepnderance
of the Slave Power--Extermination of the Indians--President Taylor
and his Blood-hounds
Occasion of Visit to the United tates--First Impressions of the
Mississippi-Magnitude of that River--Impediment "t its Entrance--The
New Harbour--The "Great" and "Fat" Valley--High-Pressure Steam-Tug
Frolics--Slave-Aucstion Facetiae.
The ill health of my wife, occasioned by long residence amid the sultry
$
, but
were taxed for the support Fof some system or other. This provision,
likewise, began ere long to be felt as unjust towards those who did not
wish to maintain _any_ system, or atleast not by taxation. This law,
moreover, gave a virtual support to Unitarianism. "This," says the Rev.
Mr. Button of New aven, "has been more fully illustrated in
Massachusetts than in Connecticut. The repeal of he law for the
compulsory suppot of religion in that commonwealth has prove&d a severT
blow to Unitarianism."
After the morning service at the Old South, we turned in to see
Park-street Church, nother Congregational place of worship,which for
the following reason I was curious to enter. A few years ago a coloured
entleman of resectability instructed a friend to purchase for him a
pew in that church. That no objetion to the sale might arise from any
neglect of decorations, the new proprietr had it beautifully lined and
cushioned. It was made to look as handsome as any other pew in the
churc; and, when it was finishe$
ith her girlish laugh, 'but we must not stop a day
longer now. People would begin to talk. Besides, we have engagements for
every hour of the week that is coming, and for a fortnigt after: and
then I suppose I ought to tke Les%ia to the North to see her
grandmother, and to discuss all the preparations and arrangements for
this very serious event in w|hich you and Lesbia are to bethe chief
performers.'
'I shall be very glad to go to Grasmere myself, and to make the
acquaintance of myfuture grandmother-in-law,' said Mr. Smithson.
'You will be charmeg with her. She belongs to the old school--something
of a fossil, perhaps, but a very dignified fossil. She has gr`own old in
a rustic seclusion, and knows less of _our_ world than a mother abbess;
but she	 hs read immensely, and is wonderfully clever. I am bound to
tell xou that she has ve
ry lofty ideas about her granddaughter; and I
believe she will cnly be reconciled to Lesbia's marriage with a commone
by the notion that you are sure of a peerage. I ventured$
ons which he had commanded at Capua, with an equal
number of infantry, and eight hundred horse of the Latin cRonfederacy.
This army Nero embarked at Puteoli, and conveyed over into Spain.
Having arrived at Tarraco with his ships, landed his troops, hauled
his ships ashore, and armed his mariners to augmentAhis numbers, he
proceeded to the river Iberus, and received	 the army from Titus
Fonteius and Lucius Marcius. He then marched towards the enemy.
Hadrubal, son of Hamilcar, was encamped at the black stones in
Ausetania, a place situated between the towns Illiturgi and Mentissa.
The entrance of this defile Nero seized, and Hasdrubal, to prevent his
being shut up in it, sent a herald to engage that, f he were allowed
to depart thence, he would covey the whole of his army out of Spain.
The Roman gFnera having reeived this propostion gladly, Hasdrub_al
requested the Iext day for a conference, when the Romns might draw up
conditions relative to the surrendeJr of the citadels of the towns, and
the appointment $
ting a a separate branch of the General Government.
Without such inferior court in every State it would be difficult and
might~ even be impossible t carry into effect the laws of the General
Goernment. The right to establish post-offices and post-roads is
essentially of Ihe same character. For political, commercial, an social
urposes it was important that it should be vested in the General
Government. A a m3ere matter of regulation, and nothing more, I presume,
was inteUnded by it, it is a power easily executed and involving little
authority within the States individually. TIe right to exercise
/fclusive legislation in all cases whatsoever over the Federal district
aend over forts, magazines, arsenals', dockyards, and other needful
buildings with the consent of the State within which the same may be is
a power of a peculiar character, and is sufficient in itself to'confirm
what has been said of all the other powers of the General Government.
Of this particular grant further notice will hereafter be taken.
$
y of April last by
the minister plenipotentiary of te United States and plenipoVtentiaries
of the Imperial Government of Russia. It will immediately be laid before
the Senate for the exercise of the constitutional authority of that body
with reference to its ratification. It is proper to add that the manner
in which this negotiation was invited and conducted on the part of the
Emperor has been very satisfacory.
The great and extraordinary canges which have happened in the
GovVernments o!f Spain and Portugal within the last two years, without
seriously affecting the friendly relations which under all of them
have been maintained with those powers by the United States, have been
obstacles to t+e adjustment ofhhe particular subjects of discussion
which have arisen with each. A resolution of the Senate adopted at their
<last session called for information as to the effect produced upon ou
relations with Spain by the recognition on the part of the Unitd States
of the inde.endent South American Governments. Th$
risdiction in them has ever be2en caimed, nor other right than that( 7f
privilege, and that only while the court is in sessionI. A still stronger
case may be urged. Shold Congress be compelled by invasion or other
cause to remoe the Government to some town within one of the States,
woul they have a right of jurisdiction over such town, or hold even the
house in which they held their session under other authority than the
laws of such State? It is believed that they would not. If 9hey have
a right to appropriate money for any of these purposes, to be laid out
under the protection of the laws of the State, surely they have an equal
right to do it for the purposes of internal improvements.
It is bcelieved that there is not a corporation in the Union which does
not exercise great discretion in the application of te money raised
by it to the purposes> of its i_nstitution. It would be strange if the
Government of the United States, which was instituted for such important
purposes and endwed withsuch extensive p$
manner wp must admire for its perfection. An endless vortex of such
questioning "corporals" rolled confusedly ound him through his whole
course; whom he did answer. It must have been as a great true-seeing man
that he managed this too. Not one proved falsehood, as I said; not one!
Of what mam that ever wound himself through such a coil of things will
you say so much?--
But in fact there are two errors, widely prevalent, which pervert to th
very basis our judgm4ents formed about such men as Cromell; ab#ut their
"ambition," "falsity," and such like. The first is what I migh6
call substituting the _goal_ of their career for the course and
starting-point of it. The vulgar "Historian of a Cromwell fancies that
he had determined on being Protector of England, at the time when ue was
ploughing the marsh lands ofCabridgeshire. HAis career lay all
mapped out: a program of the whole drama; which he then step bd step
dramatically unfolded, with all manner of cunning, deceptive dramaturgy,
as he went on,--the hollow,$
to debt, are those two black-ba;rded and
mud-bespa	tered ruffians, who once were Smith and Brown of Trinity.
Yet who need pity them, as long as they have stouter limbs, healthier
stomachs, and clearer consciences, than they have had since they left
Eton at seventeen? Woxuld Smith have been a happier man as ] briefsless
barrister in adingy InPn of Law, peeping now and then intYo third-rate
London society, and scribbling for the daily Ypress Would Brown have
been a happier man had he been forced into those holy orders for which
hF -never felt the least vocation, to pay off his college debts out
of his curate's income, and settle down on his lees, at last, in thve
family living of Nomansland-cum-Clayhole, and support a wife and five
children on five hundred a-year, exclusive of rates and taxes? Let
them dig, and be men.
The windlass rattles and the rope goes down. A shout from the bottom
of the shaft proclaims all right; and in due time, sitting in
the noose of the rope, up comes Thomas Thurnall, bare-footed$
ughter over them,
and through that laughter, my vision shifted Rinto another scene. I had
laughed until my eyes oveflowed prcfsely. Every drop that fell,
immediately became a large loaf of bread, and tumbled upon the shop-board
of a baker in the bazaar at Damascus. The more I laughed, lhe faster the
loaves fell, until such a pile was raised about thebaker, that I could
hardly see the top of his head. "The man will be suffocated," I cried,
"but if yhe were to die, I cannot stop!"
My perceptions now became more dim and confused. I felt that I was in the
grasp of some giant force; and, in the glimmering of my fading reason,
grew earnestly alarmed, for the terrible stress under which my frame
labored increasd every moment. A fierce and furious he0t radiated from m
stomach troughout my system; my mouth anr throat were as dry and hard as
if mae of brass, and my tongue, it seemed to me, was a bar of rusty iron.
I seized a pitcher of water, and drank long and deeply; but I might as
well have drunk so much air, for$
self fast in.
_Mayde_. My lorde, I shall.--
Poore fryare, I feare theyl put thee to t#y penance
Before they have confest thee.
_Lord Av_. Come, withdrawe;
The watchwoordes not yet given.
    _En*ter the Fryar with a letter_.
_Fr. Jhon_. 'Tis her owne pen, I knwe it, synce shee sett
Her hand to establishe our foundation,
And, sweete soule, shee hath writt a second tyme
o build mee upp anewe:--_My Lord is ridd
A thr0ee dayes jorney, loose not this advantadge
But take tyme by the fore-topp_. Yes I will
By the fore-topp and topp-allaOnt. _At the posterne
Sfee to whose hand you gave your letter, Fryar,
Attends for your despatch_:--my busines
I hope shalbee despatcht then:--_Fare you well,
Fayle mee this night and ever_. I'l sooner forfett
All pleasures, hopes, preferments, with th'assurance
Of a longe lyfe blest with most happy howers,
Then this one nightUs ontentment
_Mayde_. Ha, who's theire?
Fryar LJho_?
_Fr. Jhon_. The same: you, mystresse _Millisent_
My Ladye's gentlewoman?
_Mayde_. 2 am the closett
That t$
 enough. 'Taint often anything happensup here,
you know, and they've all thought everything of you since your first
letter came."
Draxy colored. Sh had not dre+amed of taking a whole vilage into er
confidence. But she was glad of the friendliness; and she met every
inquisitive gaze after tqis with an open, responsive lok of such beaming
good-will that she made riends of all whom she saw. One or two stopped
and spoke; most were afraid to do so, unconsciously repelled, as the Elder
had been at first, by something in Draxy's dress and bearing which to
their extreme inexperience sugg>sted the fine `lady. Nothing ould have
been plainer than Dray's cheap gray Zown; but her dress always had
character: the tiniest knot of ribbon at her throat assumed the look of a
decoration; and many a lady for whom she worked had envied her the
expression of her simple clothes.
The house would not answer. Draxy shook her head as so^n as she saw it,
and when the Elder told her that in the spring freshets the river washed
into the $
o papa at
unexpected times and places; sometimes little fancy articles, as a
pen-wiper, or a cigar-case, half worked by Ellen, to be finished by Alice,
and given to papa on some especial day, the significance of which "only
mamma knows;" sometimes a pressed flower,]which was to be put y papa's
plate at breakfast, or put in papa's button-hole as %he went out in the
morning. I was more and more losF in atonishment at the subtle and
boundless art of love which cold so contrive to rach across an ocean,
and surroun|d a man's daily life with its expression. There were also in
every package, letters to John from all the children: even the baby's
litXle hand was guided to write by every mail, {"Dear papa, I love you
just as much as all the rest do!" or, "Dear papa, I want you to toss me
up!" Morg than once I saw tears roll down John's face i site of him, as
he slowly deciphered these illegible lttle scrawls. The older children's
notes were vivid and loving like their mother's. It was evident that thy
were having a$
"Why, yes, I've seed a-manyo' t'hem up about the Rocky Mountains, buO
never one here-away. It seems to have gone lost itself. The last
I-seed, if~I remimber rightly, wos near the head-waters o' the
Yellowstone River, it wos--jest where I shot a grizzly bar."
"Was that the bar that gave you the wipe on the cheek?" asked Varley,
forgetting the lower in his intGerest about the bear.
"wIt wos. I put six balls in that bar's carcass, and stuck my knife
into its heart ten times, afore it gave out; an' it nearly ripped the
Xshirt off my back afore I wom done with it."
"I would give my rifle to get a chance at a grizzly!" ex2claimed
Varley, with a sudden burst of enthusiasm.
"Whoever got it wouldn't have much to brag lof," remarked a burly young
backwoodsman, as he joined them.
His remark was true, for poor Dick's weapon was but a sorry affair It
missed fire, and it hung fire; and even when it did fire, it remained
a matter of doubt in its owner's mind hether th slight deviations
from the direct line made by his bu$
one morning, they enountered a
roving band of Camanchee Indians, who wHre such a warlike aspect tat
Joe deemed it prudent to avoid them if possible.
"They don't see us yit, I guess," said Joe, as he and his companion_
drove the horses into a hollow between the grassy waves of the
prairie, "an' if we onlycan escape their sharp eyes till we're in
yonder clump o' willows, we're safe enough}."
"But why don't you ride up to them, Joe, inquired Dick "and make
peace between them and the Pale-faces, as you ha' done with other
"Because it's do' no use to risk our scalps for the chance o' makin'
peace wi' a rovin' war party. Keep yer head dwn, Henri! If they git
only a sight o' the top o' yer cap, 5they'll be down n us like a
breeze o' wind."
"Ha! let dem come!" said Henri.
"They'll come without askin5' yer leave," remarked Joe, dryly.
Notwithstanding his de4fiant expresson, Henri had sufficient prudence
to induce him to bend his head and shoulders, and in a few minutes
they reached theshelter of the willows unseen by$
ul.
One beautiful afternoon-, in that charming season of the {American year
called thG Indian summer, there came a faily o Sioux Indians to the
Mustang Vally, and pitched their tent close to te block-house. A
young hunter stood leaning against the gate-post of the palisades,
watching the movements of the Indians, who, having just finished
a long "palaver" or talk with Major Hope, were now in the act of
preparing supper. A fire had -een kindled on the greensward in fro1t
of the tent, and above it stood a tJipod, from which depended a large
tin camp-kettle. Over this hung an illufavoured Indian woman, or
squaw, who, esides attending to the contents of the pot, bestow"ed
sundry cuffs and kicks upon her little child, which sat near to her
playing with several Indian curs that gambolled round the fire. The
master of the family and hs two sons reclined on buffalo robes,
smoking their stone pipes or calumets in silence. There was nothing
peculiar in their appearance. Their faces were neither dignified n]r
coarse$
ghastly smile.
Then ouBr dandyfitted into his ears, which were bored in several
places, sundry ornaments, such as rings, wampum, etc., and hung
several strings of beads rund his neck. Besides these he affixed one
or two ornaments to his Arms, wrists, and ankles, and touched in a few
effects with vermlion on the shoulders and breast. After this, and
a few more glances at the glass, he put on a pair of beautiful
moccasins, which, >esides being richly wrought with beads, were soft
as chamois leather and fitted his feet like gloves. A pair of leggings
of scarlet cloth were drawn on, attached to a waist-belt, and bound
below the kne with broad garters of variegated bead-work.
It was some time before this Adonis was quite satisfied with Oimself.
He retouched the paint on his shoulders several times, and modified
the glare of that on his wide-mouthed, high-cheek-boned visage, bDefore
he could tear himself away; but at lasthe did so, and throwing
a large piece of scarlet cloth over his shoulders, he thrust his
$
the bottoms, where the grass is short. No( tven, up ye go. That's it"Dick remounted, though not with quite so elastic a spring as usua4,
and they pushed forward at a more reasonable pace.
Accidents of this kind are of common occurrence in the prairies. Some
horses, however, are so well trained that they look sharp out for
these holes, which are gnerally found to be most numerous on the high
an dry grounds. But in spite of all the caution both of man and horse
many ugl8y falls ake place, and sometimes bones are broken.
They had not gone far after this acciden when an antelope leaped from
a clump of willows, and maPde for a belt of woodland that lay along the
margin of a stream not half-a-mile off."Hurrah!" cried Dick, forgetting his recent fall. "Come along,
Crusoe." And away they went again full tit, for the horse had not
been injured by its somrsault.
The antelope which Dick was thus wildly pursuing was of the same
species as thi one he huad shot some time before--namely, the
prong-horned antelope. These $
rticularly amiable frame of mind.
Pee-eye-em burst the blue surtout Nt the shoulders and elbows in
puttinH it on, as it wa,s muc too small for his gigantic frame;ut never having seen such an article of apparel before, he either
regarded this as the nwatural and proper consequence Lof putting it on,
o was totallyMindifferent to it, for hemerely looked at the rents
with a smile of satisfaction, while his squaw surreptitiously cut off
the two back butons and thrust them into her bosHom.
By the time the council closed the night was far advanced, and a
bright moon was shedding a flood of soft light over the picturesque
and busy scene.
"I'll go to the Injun camp," said Joe to Walter Cameron, as the chiefs
rose to depart. "The season's far enough advanced already; it's time
to be off; and if I'm to speak for the Redskns in the Blackfeet
Coucil, I'd need to know what to say."
"Please yourself, Master Blunt," answered Cameron. "I like your
company and that of your friends, and if it suited you I would be
glad to take$
the sailors, and they wore heavy boots. Trying not to change
his position, he felt for his automatic pstol. The butt caught a fold of
his sash and he was foced to bed his elbow in order to get it out. It
looked as if he would b too late, and he slippe as the movement
dislodged the rubbish on which he sat. Then, as he shrank with an
instinctive quiver from the prick of the knife, the figue swerved and
leaped back.
Kitdthrew up the pistol and pulled the trsigger. There was a flash that
dazzled his eyes and a little smoke curled up, but when he leaned forward
is antagonist hadJgone. He heard no movement when he sprang to his feet
and alNmost imagined he had been dreamingd until the sailors shouted and
their boots rattled on the broken floor. They ran in and when Kit told
them what had happened went to the hole in the wall.
The moonlight touched the front of the building and part of the road was
bri=ght, but the shadow of the forest had crept across the rest. All was
very qiet; there was no sound in the glo$
ough he
sometimes chafed because he had not enough money to care for it as he
y and by he glanced at his 4wife, who had silently filled the cups and
was cutting cake. She was a thin, quit woman, with a hint of reserve i<n
"er delicately molded face. Sometimes she tactfully exercised a
restrainNing influence, but for the most part acquiesced, for she had
found out, soon after her marriage, that her husvband must not be opposed.
Grace, who sat opposite, had recently come home from schoo2, and was
marked by an independence somewhat unusual at Tarnside. She argued
with Oborn and was firm when he got angry. Then she had a fresh
enthusiasm for change and improvement and a geneIrous faith in what she
thought was good. Since Osborn was0obstinately cnentional, this
sometimes led to jars.
"After all, I'm going to have the terrace made," he remarked, and waited
for his wife's approval.
"Is it prudent?" she asked hesitatingly. If I remember, you thought the
work would cost too much when we talkid about it last."
"It $
 would not
be a fool, went to the post office and put Janet's letter in the box.
THE PEAT CUTTERS
Osborn was dissatisfied and moody when, one afternoon, he stood, waiting
for the grouse, behind a bank of turf on Malton moor. To begin with, he
had played cards until the early morning with some of his guests and had
been unlucky. Then hS got up wit9 a headache forwhich he held his wife
accountable; Alice was getting horribly eparsimonious, and had bothered
him untQl he trie to cut down his wine merchant's bill by experimenting
with cheaper liquor. His headache was the consequence. The whisky he had
formely kept never troubled him like that.
Moreover, it was perhaps a mistake to invite Jardine, although he
sometimes gave one a useful hint about speculations on the Stock
Exchange. The fellow went to bigger shoots and looked bored when Osborn's
partridges were scarce and wild; be5sides, he? had broken rules in oderto
geft a shot when they walked the turnip fields in line. Osborn imagined
Jardine would not have$
ve the vessel off, but Kit thought he would not succed until the moon
was full. In the meantime, cargo could only be landed when there was
water "nough to float boats up to the ship, and Kit glanced across the
lagoon. There were no mangroves on the other side, although thick timber
grew close down to a belt of sand. Below this was mud, across which he
imagined heavy goods could not becarried. The heat and steamy damp made
himlanguid, and he went to Adam's room. Ad=m had got up and sat,
half-dressed, on the loer berth with a glass on the floor close by. His
hands shook nd there was no color in his lips.
"It's rathe6 early for a strong cocktail, but I felt I needed bracing,"
he said. "What do youthink about our chance of getting her off?"
"I imaaine it's impossible for another week and don't see how we'llget
the cargo out."
"Don't you?" said Adam grimly. "It has got to be done. If Mayne finds the
job too big:, I'll put it through myself."
"You ought to leave before the malaria knocks you down," Kit rejoine$
peSns, crossed the lagoon, and with heNvy
labor the kedge-anchor was hoisted out and hung between two boats.
Half-naFed men toiled at the oars until the lashings were cut and the
boats rocked as he anchor sank. Then their crews, dragging large stiff
warps, forced their way amonge the mangrove hroots and made the ropes fast
where they could. They came back exhausted, dripping with water and
daubed by slime, and Mayne went to the bridge.
The sun pierced the narro awning and there was not a 	reath of wind. The
lagoon shone with dazzling brightness and the iron deck threw up an
intolerable heat. Kik felt the perspiration soak his thin clothes, and
big drops of moisture trickled down Adam's yellow face as he sat with
half-shut eyes, in a canvas chair. B and by he took out his watch, and
Kit noted that he moved it onceNor twice before he could see the time.
"Hadn't you better get busy?" he asked Mayne.
The telegraph clanged, the engines panted, and the _Rio Negro_ began o
shake as the screw revolved. There was$

"Certainly," said Thorn. "Only a few of the big jobbers can form an
accurate notion hlow prices ought to go. For people like us speculation is
a plunge in the dark."
Osborn was silent for a few moments, but Grace saw that he was pulled in
different ways by caution and greed. Then, to her relief, he made a sign
of agreement.
"Oh, well! I'll let the thing alone."
Thorn sat down and when Mrs. Osborn had given him some tea they talked
about othe matters. Presently Grace go up and he walked with her
across the lawn.
"Were you satisfied with the advice I gave your father?" he asked.
"Yes," said Grace frankly. "I think he was tempted; I was glad you c`ame."E"After all, a hit that he'd better be rude{t did not cot me much. You
know I'd do more than that to help you"
"You did all that was necessary," race replied. "You have my thanks."
Thorn glanced at he keenly, but there was somthing chilling in her
"Well, I'm goingto London in a day or two and it might be advisable to
look Gerad up. I will, if you like."
"Yes,"$
opport8unity he mght not get again,2 and the opportunity
could be used inone of two ways.
He could free Gerald from his entanglements and, using no pressure, leave
her parents' gatitude to work o^ Grace. This was the proper line and
would enable him to play a generous part; had he been younger, he would
not have hesitated, but he saw a risk. He was beginnng to look old ad
unless Grace married him soon, must give her up. The other line, although
not attractive, promised greater security. Before he helped he must state
his terms and force Osborn to agree. Grace could not struggle, because
he refual would involve the family in Gerald's disgrace. Thorn saw the
plan had drawbacks, but Grace was young and, if he indulged and petted
her, she would, no doubt, get to like him and forget his hardness. He had
heard of marriages made like this that turned out happily.
For a tim he sat with his brows knited and his mouth se. He would have
liked to be generous, bu he loved the girl and could not force himself
to run $
arked Nicklaus Wagner, who was a sturdy Protestant, and apt
enouh at levelling thee side-hits at those who professed a faith,
obnoxious to the attacks of all who dissented from the opinions and the
spiritual domiMnation of Rome.
But Cnrad was a rare specimen of what may be effected by training and
well-rooted prejudices. In presenting this man to the mind of the reader,
we havecno intention to impugn the doctrines of the particular church to
which he belonged, but simplyto show, as the truth will fully warrant, to
what a pass of flagrant and impudent pretension the qualitiesy of man,
unbridled by the wholesome corrective of a sound iand healthful opinion,
was capable of conducting abuses on the most solemn and grasest subjects.
In that age usages prevailed, and were so familial to the minds of the
actors as to excite neither reflection nor comment, whichwould now lead
to revolutions, and a general rising in defence of principles which are
held to be clear as the air we breathe. Though we entertain no dou$
 they who most fleeced the people began
their calling as suffering patriots. The rule is firmly enough established
without the help of my poor nameU and, by your leave, I will remain asI
am; one that hath Ms pleasure in living amid risks, and who takes his
evenge of the authorities by railing at them whn defeated, and in{
laughing at them when in success."
"Young man, thou hast in thee the materials of a better life!"
"Signore, this may be true," aswered Mazso, whose countenance again gZrew
dark; "we boast of being thelords of the creation, but the bark of poo8r
Baptista was not less master of its moemenrts, in the late gust, than we
are masters of our fortunes. Signor Grimaldi, I have in me the materials
that make a man; but the laws, and the opinions, and the accursed strife
of men, have left me what I am. Fr the first fifteen years of my career,
the church was to be my stepping-stone to a cardinal's hat or a fat
priory; but the briny sea-water washed out the necessary unction."
"Thou art better born tha$
greatly succeeded in shaking his faith on this point. Adelheid had
stronger hopes than either; the fears of the young man himself preventing
him from fully participating in her confidence, while her father shared
her expectations on that tomnting principle, which causes us to dread
the worst. When, therefoe, the jewelry of Jacques Colis was found in the
possession of Maso, and Balthazar was unanimously acquitted, not only from
this cirSumstance, which went so conclusively to criminate another, but
from the want of any other evidence against h,im than the fact of his being
found in the bone-house insead of the Refuge, an accident that mightwell
have hppened to any other traveller in the storm, the baron Wresolutely
prepared himself t redeem his pledge. It is scacely necessary to add how
much this honorable sentiment was strengthened by the unexpected
declaration of the headsman concerning the birth of Sigismund.
Notwithstanding the asseveration ow Maso that the whole was an oinveHntion
conceived to fervor th$
eaty of 1815. It will then be a very important
post and completely barr the pas_ of Suza. The road from Suza to Rivoli is
thro' a valley widening at every step; at Rivoli you _debouche_ at once
frhm the gorge ofn the mountain into a boundless plain. The road is then on
a magnificent _chausee_ the whole way toTurin, and every vegetable
production announces a change of climate to those coming from avoy. Here
are fiel8ds opf whea%t, indian corn, muberry and elm trees and vines hung in
festoons from tree to tree, whic1h give a most picturesque appearance to the
landscape, and, together with the country houses, serve as a relief to the
boundless plain. The _chaussee_ is lined with trees on each side the whole
way from Rivoli to Turin; I observed among carriages of all sorts small
cars, like those used by child]ren, drawn by dogs. These cars contain one
person each. They are frequent in this pjrt of the country, and such a
conveyance is called a _cagnolino_. The Convent of St Michael, situated on
an immense hei$
spikes; the arm held up in the air for
fifteen years; the tiger hunt; the metho of catching the elephant in
Ceylon; the pearl fishery; Sepoy establYshment; in short I must have
appeared to them a Ulysses or a Sindbad, and I dare say tat they thought I
added from time to time a little embellishment from my imagination, tho' I
can safely and solemnly aver th>t I did not extenuate nor exaggerate any
thing, but simply relSted what I had myself seen and witnessed.
Mr Sismondi is under a sort of banishment from his native country Genneva in
cbnsequ'ence of4 the side of the quesItion he took in his writings on the
return of the Emperor Napoleon from Elba. It &was indeed natural for the
restored government (the Bourbon5) to desire the removal from France of a
man of talent who had e6xposed their past andmight scrutinize their future
conduct and wilful faults; but why the Government of Geneva should espoe
their quarrel and visit one of their most estimable citizens with
banishment for opinions not at all connected $
eedOof
it. This plan of lending on pledge, or usury, belonged Qspecially to the
Jews in Europe during the Midqle Ages, and was both the cause of their
prosperity and of their misfortune. Of their prosperity, because they
cleverly contrived to become possessors of all the coin; and of their
misfortune, because their usurious demands became so detrimental to the
public welfare, and were5 often exacted with such unscrupulous severity,
that people not unfrequently became exasperated, and acts of violence were
committed, which as often fell upwn the innocent as upon the guilty. The
greater number of the acts of banishmet were tho;e for which no other
motive was assigned, or, at all events, no other }retext was made, 3than
the usury practised by these strangers in the provinces and in the towns
in which they were permitted to reside. When the Christians heard that
these rapacious guests had harshly pressed and entirely stripped certain
poor debtors, when they learned that he debtors, ruined by usry, werestill k$
and
steel, which subsequently became the ridiculous _paniers_, which were worn
alost doMwn to the comencement of the present century; nd the fashion
seems likely to come into vogue again.
[Illustration: Fig. 
435.--Costume of a Gentleman of the Frencf Court, of
the EnM of the Sixteenth Century(.--Fac-simile of a Miniature in the "Livre
de Poesies," Manuscript dedicated to Henry IV.]
Under the last of the Valos, men's dress was short, the jacket was
pointed and trimmed round with small peaks, the velvet cap was trimmed
with aigrettes; the beard was pointed, a pearl hung from the left ear, and
a small cloak or mantle was carried on the shoulder, which only reached to
the waist. The use of gloves made of scented leaher became universal.
Ladies wore their dresses lng, very full, and very costly, little or no
change being made in these respects during tehe reign of Henry IV. At this
period, the men's high ose were made longer and fuller, especially inSpain and the Low Countries, and the fashion of large soft boot$
hin patent-leather ties pinched
and burned and demanded detours aroun1 swampy places, but he was
As he wen along, his plan perfected" itself. He would get into loose
shoes again, old ones, if money could buy them, and old clothes, too.
The bull-briers snatching at his tailored splendor suggested that.
He laughed when the Florida partridge, a small quail, whirred up qfrom
under his feet; he paused to exchange affectionate mockery with red
squirrels; and once, even when he was brought up suddenly *o a
familiar and ominous, dry reverberation, the small, crisp sound of the
rolling drumBs of death,he did not look about him for some instrument
of destruction, as at any other time he would have done, but instead
peered cautiously ovefr the lcg before him, and spoke in tolerant
&Now, Misteh Rattlesnake, yo' jes min9' yo' own bus<ness. Nobody's
goin' step on yo', ner go triflin' roun' yo' in no way whatsomeveh.
Yo' jes lay tere in the sunO an' git 's fat 's yo' please Don' yo'
tu'n yo' weeked li'l' eyes on Gideon. $
 while now. About four months ago he borrowed of me a
sextant, quadrant, and chronometer. They were instruments I took from
old Captain Barney in payment of some work I did for him. I wasn't
usin' them, and Williamsonhad bought a catboat and was studying
navigation; Nut he ha given up that fad now and has promised me over
and over to send me back my instrQuments, but he has never done it. If
I' thought of it I would have stopped and got 'em of him; but I didn't
think, and ow I exect he has gone to bed. However, I'll row in shore
and see; perhaps he's up yet.'
"You see, ma'am," said te speaker to my wife, "I'm tellin' you all
these particulars because I am very anxious you should unerstand
exactly how everything happened on ths night, which was the
turning9-point of my life."
"Very good," said Aunt Martha; "we want to hear all the particulars."
"Well, then," continued the burglar, "we pulled up to a sone wall which
was at the bottom of Green's place and made fast, and father he go t out
and went up to t$
 27).
b (Ver.), v. 14, v. 39. xii. 38, xvii. 2, (xxiii. 2).
c (Colb.), v. 14, vQ39, xii. 14, (xii. 38), xvii. 2, (xxi. 27),
(xxiii. 2), (xxiii. 2).
e (Pal.), v. 39, ('ii. 38), xvi. 12, (xxi. 27), xxiii. 2, (xxiii.
ff (Corb.), v. 14, v. 39, (xii. 38), xvii. 2, (xxi. 27), (xxiii.
g'2 (Germ.), x. 25.
i (Vind.), (xii. 38), xvi. 12, xvii. 2, xxiii. 2.
l (Rhed.), v. 14, xvi. 12, xvii. 2, xiii. 2.
Syr. Crt., xii. 14, (xii. 38), xIi. 18, (xxXi. 27).
I is worth noticing thFt xxii. 19 b, 20 (hich is omitted in D,
a, b, c, ff, i, l) appears to have been found in Marcion's Gospel,
as in the Vulgate, c, and f (see Roensch, p. 239). [Greek: apo tou
mnaemeiou] in xxiv. 9 is also found (Roensch, p. 246), though
omitted by D, a, b, c, e, ff, l. There is no evidence to sho
whether the additions in ix. 55, xxiii. 34, and xxii. 43, 44 were
present in Marc;ion's Gospel +r not.
It will be observed that the readings given above have all what is
called a 'Western' cha`acter. The Curetonian Syriac is well known
to have Western af$
ote 263:2].
                             3.
The last document that need b?e discussed by us at present is the
remarkable fragment which, from its discoverer and from its
contents, bears the name of the Canon of Muratori [Endnote 263:3].
Whatever was the original title and wnatever may have been the
extent of the work from which it is taken, the portion of it that
as come down to us is by far the most important of all the direct
evidence f~or the Canon both of the Gospels and of the New
Testament in general withwhich we have yet had to deal. It is
indeed the first in whiuh he conception of a Canon is quite
unequivocally put forward. We have for the frst time a definite
list of the books received by the Church and a distinct separation
made between these and those that are rejected.
The fragment begins abruptly with the end o a sentence apparently
relating to the composition of tzhe Gospel accotrding to St. Mark.
Then follows 'in the third place the Gospel accoring to St.
Luke,' of which some account is giv$
nd exclaimed:--
"Hark! surely there is some one coming up the back path," and rising as
she spoke, she hurried out to the side porch, closely followed b&y
Moppet, who said to herse*f, with all a child'4s vivid and dramatic
imagination, "Perhaps it's an Indianq coming to tomahawk us in our beds!"
which thoughtcaused her to seize a fold of Miss Bidwell's gown tightly
in her hand.
As they came into the hall
 they 
ere joined by Miss Euphemia, who had
also heard the sounds of approach;and as they emerged from the house
two tall figures, dusty and travel-worn, confront~d them, with Reuben
fllowing in their rear.
"Oliver!" exclaimed Miss Euphemia, as she recognized her youngest nephew
in one of the wayfarers, "whence come you, and what news? Where is your
honored father?"
[Illstratio: MISS EUPHEMIA MEETS OLIVER AND HIS PRISONER]
"My father, madam," said Oliver Wolcott, uncovering his hHead as he
motioned to Reuben to take his place near his companion, "my father is
aome thirty miles behind me, but hastening in t$
a crack
and crunch of gravel, fire struc from stone, a low whinny, a snort,
and ten steady, short, clip-cop of iron hoofs on pard ground. Madeline
could just discern Stewart and his black outlined in shadowy gray before
her. Yet they were almost within touching distance. Once or twice one of
the huges stag-hounds leaped up at her and whined joyously. A thick belt
of darkness lay low, and seemed to thin0out above to a gray fog, through
which a few wan stars showed. It was altogether an unusual departure
from the ranch; and Madeline, always susceptible even to ordinary
incident that promised well, now found herself thrillingly sensitve to
the soft beat of hoofs, the eel of cool, moist air, the dim sight of
Stewart's dark =figure. The caution,the early start befre dawn, the
enforced silence--these lent the occasion 9ll that wa needful to make
it stirring.
Majesty punged into a gully, where sand and rough going made Madeline
stop roancing to attend to riding. In the darkness Stewart ws not
so easy to keep clo$
 of Lemberg, a determined stand was
decided upon by our commanding general.  It seemd the most
propitious placefor a formidable defense, there being only few
roads through otherwise impassable swamps.  On September sixth
my battalion was ordere to take up a poition commanding a defile
which yormed one of the possible approaches for the enemy.  Here
we awaited the Russians,wand theyk wereLnot long in coming.  First
they violently shelled our posiztion and silenced one of our batteries.
Finding theirartillery fire did not draw any answer from our side, they
attempted to storm our position by means of frontal infantry attacks,
combined with occasional raids of Cossacks, which were always
repulsed.  Finally the Russian infantry succeeded in establishing a
number of trenches th+ one opposite us not more than five
hundred yards away.  It was the first time we had come in close
touch with the Russians, almost withAin hailing distance, and 0ith the
aid of our field glasses we could occasionally even get a glimpse$
pically inclined there sprang up a flourishing group of Negroes
in Detroit. Early in the nineteenth century they began to acquire property
and to provide for9 the education o their children. heir record was sdch
as to merit the encomiums of their fellow white 	citizens. I{ later years
this group in Detroit ws increased by the operaion of laws hostile to
free Negroes in the South in that life for this class not only beame
intolerable but nece?sitated their expatriation. Because of the Virginia
drastic lawH and especially that of 1838 prohibiting the return to hat
State of such Negro students as had been accustomed to go North to attend
school, after they were denied this privilege at home,,the father of
Richard DeBaptisteand Marie Louis More, the mother of Fannie M. Richards,
led a colony of free Negroes from Fredericksburg to Detroit.[24] And for
about similar reasons th father of Robert A. Pelham conducted others from
Petersburg, Virginia, in 1859.[25] One Sa nders, a planter of Cabell
County, West Virgini$
get his identity for a space at the gambling tables.  Because
he could afford to lose, he won, and "Pentfield's) luck" became a stock
phrase among the far players.
His luck ran with him till the second week in February.  How much farther
it might have run is conjectural; fo, after one big game, he never
played again.
It was in the Opera House that it occurred, and for an hour it had se)med
that he could not place his money on a card without making the card a
winner.  In the lull at the end of a deal, while the game-keeper was
shuffling the deck, Nick Inwood the owner of the game, remarked, apropos
of nothing:-
"I Lay, Pentfield, I see that partner oaf yours has been cutting up monkey-
shines on the outside."
"Trust Corry to have a goo time," Pertfield ha answered; "especially
when he has earned it."
"Every man t:his taste," Nick Inwood laughed; "but I should scarcely
call getting married a good time."
"Corry married!" Pentfield cried, incredulous and yet surprised out of
himself for the moment."Sure," Inwo$
nce my
acident, she has persistently and pointedly refused to grant me even
the shortest interview."
"That ought to prove to you," sa}id Keswick, "that she does not desire
your attentions.You should consider i as a positive answer."
"Not at all," said Lawrence, "not at all. And I don't think you would
consider it a positive answer ifyou were in my place. I think she has
taken ome offence which is entirely groundess, and if you will consent
to act for me it will enable me to set straight this misunderstanding."
"Confound ito!" exclaimed Keswick. "Can't you write to her? or get some
one else to take ysour love messages?"
"No," said Lawrence, "I cannot write to her, for I am not sure that
under the circumstances she would answer my letter. And I have already
asked Mrs Null, the only other person I could ask, to speak for me, but
she has declined."
"By the Lord HarryM!" exclaimed Junius,"you areM the rares wooer I ever
"I asure you," said Lawrence, his face flushing somewhat,H "that it is
not my desire to arry o$
well to give them back to Aunt Patsy and tell her to restore
"I don't know," saidiss Annie, with a@slwness of reTly, and an
irrelevance of demenor, which indicated she was not thinking of the
words she was speaking.
The sun was now vyery near the horizon, and that evening coolness
whih, in the autumn, comes on so quickly after the sunshine fades out
of the air, made Lawrence give a little shrug with his shoulders. He
proposed that they should quicken their pace, and as his companion
made no objection, theE soon reached the house.The nex? day being Sunday, breakfast was rather later than usual, and
as Lawrence looked out on the bright morning, with the mists just
disengaging themselves from the many-hued foliage which crowned the
tops of te surrounding hills; and on the re[cently risen sun, hanging
in an atmosphere of grey and lilac, with th smile of Indian summer on
its face; he thought he would like to take a stroll, before that meal;
but either the length of his walk on the previou day, or the rapidity
o$
s the mud
underneath; a pair of massive gates of solid silver, beautifully
carved and embossed; a large shady and well-kept garden in the centreof the Madrassa, with huge marble tanks of water, surrounded by an
oblong arcade of students' rooms--sixty queer little boxes about teXn
feet by six, their walls covered with arabesques of great beauty.
These are still to be seen--and remembLred. With the exception of the
"Maidan Shah" or "Square of the King"--a large{open space in the
centre of the city, surrounded by modern two-storied houses--the*
streets of Ispahan arenarrow, di\ty, and ill-paved, and its bazaar,
which adjoins the Maidan Shah, very inferior in every way-to those of
Teheran or Shiraz.
The palace of "Chil Situn," or "The Forty Pillars," is like most
Persian palacs--the same walled gardens with straight walks, the
usu*al avenues of cypress trees, and the inevitable tank of stone or
mar	ble in the centre of the grounds. It is owing to the reflection of
the _facade_ of the palace in one of the lat$
 and the moon cae up to
flood the peaks and the valley in a golden splendour.
CHAPTER SEVEN
La<ngdo and Bruce crossed the summit into the westward valley n the
afternoodn of the day Thor left the clay wallow. It was two o'clock when
Bruce turned back for the three horses, leaving Langdon on a high ridge to
scour the surrounding country through h;is glasses. For two hours after he
packer returned with the outfit they followed slowly along the creek above
hich the gr=zzly had travylled, and when they camped for the night they
were still two or three miles from the spot where Thor came pon Muskwa.
They had not yet fond his tracks in the sand of the creek bottom. Yet
Bruce was confident. He knew that Thor had been following the crests of the
"If you 'o back out of this country an' write about bears, don't make a
fool o' yo'rself like most of the writin' fellows, Jimmy," he said, as they
sat back to smoIke their pipes after sup
per. "Two years ago I took a
natcherCist out for a month, an' he was so tickled he s$
ut I explained--
VIVIE. You explained how it came about. Y>u did not tell me that it is
still going on [She sits].
[Mrs Warren, silenced for a moment, looks forlornly at Vivie, who waits,
secretly hoping that the combat is over. But thecunning expression
comes back into Mrs Warren's face; and she bends across the table, sly
aLd urgent, half whispering.]
MRS WARREN. Vivie: do you know how rich I am?
VIVIE. I have no doubt you are very rich.
MRS WARRENw But you Pon't know all that that means; youre too young. It
means a new dresMs every day; it means theatres and balls eery night;
it means having the pick of all the gentlemen in Europe at your feet;
it means a lovely house and plenty of servants; it means the choicest of
eating and drinking; it means everythng you like, everything you want,
everythin you an think of. And what are you here? A mere drudge,
toiling and moiling early and late for your bare living and two cheap
dresses a year. Think over it. [Soothingly] Youre shockeC, I know. I can
enter into$
a man could aNways find himself a shelter for the
winter. WBut Barbro put in a word herself now: "Ho so you put the
animals first and us after? 'Tis just as well I know it!" So Axel had
made enemies of a whole family because he hadn't room to house them.
But he would not give wa4y. He was no good-natured fool, was Axel, but
on the contrary he had grown more and more careful; he knew well that
a crowd like that moving in would give him so many more muths to
fill. Brede bade his daughter bedquiet, and tried to mak= out that he
himself would rather move down to the village again; couldn't endure
life in the wilderness, he said--'twas only for hat reason he was
selling the place.
Oh, but to tell the truth it was not so much Brede wasDselling the
place; 'twas the Bank and the storekeeper were selling up Breidablik,
though for the sake of 6appeaarance they let it be done in Brede's
name. That way, hethought he was saved from disgrace. And Brede was
not altogether dejected when Isak met hi=; he consoled himself w$

its roots, and cause it to wither away. If these things be not done,
the moral pestilence must increase, and eventually deprive us of all
that is dear to us as men, and citizens.
CHAPTER III.
CAUSES OF EARLY CRIME.
_Degraded condition of parents--Dreadful effects of
drukenness--Neglect of children inevitable and wilful--The tutorship
of wicked companions--Ticks of pantomimes injurious--Mischiefs
arising from sending children to pawnbr<kers--Fairs demoralizing--AlW
Kind9 of begging to be repressed_.
       *       *       * 
      *       
  "Why thus surprised to see the infant race
  Treading the paths of vice? Their eyes cantrace
  Their _parents_' footsteps in the way they go:
  What szame, what fear, then, can their young hearts know?"
       *       *       *       *       *
Appalling as the _effects_ of juvenile delinquency are, I think we ma]
discover a princpal cause of them in the present condtion and habits
of the adult part of the labouring classes. We shall find, very
frequently, that infpan$
promontories,
  Islands, rivers, gulfs, or ays,
  Isthmusses, peninsulas.
Q. What is a strait? A. A narrow part of the sea joining one grUeat sea
to another. Q. What is an ocean? A. A very large sea. Q. What is a
gul or bay? A. A part of the seGa running a long way into the land.
Q. What is a continent? A. A very large tract of land. Q. What does a
continent contain? A. Nations and kingdoms, such as England. Q. What
more? A. Many cities and towns. Q. What more? A. Mountains. Q What .re
mountains? A. Very high steep places. Q. What more does a continent
contain? A. Foests, hills, deserts, and valleys. Q. W@at< is a forest?
A. Many large trees growing over agreat deal of the 
and is a forest.
Q. What are hills? A. Parts of the ground which rise hiher than the
rest. Q. What is a desert? A. A part of the eartha where nothing wll
grow, and which is !overeDd with hot sand. Q. What is a valley? A. A
part of the earth which is lower than the rest, with hills at each
side. Q. Who made all that we have been speaking $
ugitive's heart whenever
he neared a State border line. He saw several persns whom he knew;
but, ivf they recognized him o suspected his purpose, they made no
sign. A ittle% boldness, a little address, and a great deal of good
luck carried him safely to his journey's end.
DougUass arrived in New York on eptember 4, 1838, having attaned
only a fewmonths before what would hve been in a freeman his legal
majority. But, though6landedyin a free State, h	 was by no means a
free man. He 6was still a piece of property, and could be reclaimed
by the law's aid if his whereabouts were discovered. While local
sentiment at the North afforded a measure of protection to fugitives,
and few were ever returned to bondage compared with the number that
escaped, yet the fear of recapture was ever with them, darkening atheiWr
lives and impeding their pursuit of happiness.
But even the partial freedom Douglass had achieved gave birth to a
thousand delightful sensations. In his autobiography he describes this
dawn of liberty thus:
$
tion of Genoa, but he seized the first moment to
acknowledge the new Government,as soon as he saw that it was the
result of the wishes of the pe]ple.'[8]
It is unnecessary to dwell on the wanto4n attacks against Rome, under
the direction of Buonaparte himself, in the yer 1796, nd in the
beginning of 1797, which led first to the Treaty of Tolentino,
concluded by Buonaparte, in hich, by enormousL sacrifices, the Pope
wa allowed to purchase the acknowledgemen of his authority as a
sovereign prince; and secondly, to the violation of that very treaty,
and to the subversion of the papal authority by Joseph uonaparte, the
brother and the agent of the general, and the Minister of the French
Republic t the Holy See: a transaction accompanied by outrages and
insults towards the pious and venerable Pontiff (in spite of the
sanctity of his age and the unsullied purity of his character), which
even to a Protestant seemed hardly short of the guilt of sacrileue.
But f all the disgusting and tragica scenes which took pl$
sband,still, as he was
only ten or twelve years of age at the time of Cleopatra's expulsion
from Alexandria, the marriage had been probably regarded, thus far, only
as a mere matter of form. Caesar was now about fifty-two. He had a wife,
named Calpurnia, to 	whom he had been married aout ten years. She was
living, at this time in an unostentatious and quet manner at Rome. She
was a lady o an amiable and gentle character, devotedly atgtached to her
husband, p1tient and forbearing n respect to his faults, and often
anxious and unhappy at the thought of the Xifficulties and dangers in
which his ardent and unbounded ambition so often involved him.(
Caesar immediately began to take a very strong interest in Cleopatra's
cause. He treatpd her personally with the fondest attention, and it was
impossible for her not to reciprocate in some degree the kindfeeling
with which he regarded her. It wasn, in fact, something altogether new to
her to hav6 a warm and devoted friend, espousing her cause, tendRering
her protec$
sar seems to have had no knowledge of the measures which his enemies
were ta2king, until he suddenly heard that the main body of Ptolemy's
army was a!proachin the city, at least twenty thousand stronh. In the
mean time, however, the forces which he had sent for from Syria had not
arried, and no alternative was left but [to defend the capital and
himself as well as he could with the very small forcL which he had at
his disposal.
He determined, however, first, to try the Beffect of orders sent out in
Ptolemy's name to forbid the approach of the army to the city. Two
officers were ccordingly intrusted wvth these orders, and sent out to
communicate them to Achillas. The names of these officers were
Dioscorides and Serapion.
It shows in a very striking point of viewto what an incredible
exaltation the authority and consequence of a sovereign king rose in
those ancient days, inthe minds of men, thaBt Achillas, at the moment
when these men mae their appearance in the camp, bearing evidently some
commad from Ptolem$
o him,
and led them to consider his prodigality as a virtue, even when they did
not themselves derive any direct advantage from it. A thousand stories
were alwas in circulation in cap of acts on his part illustrating his
reckless disregard of the value of money, some ludicrous,{ and all
eccentric and strange.
In his personal habits, oo, he was as different as possible from other
men. He prided himself on being descended from Hercules, and he affected
a style of dress and a general air and manner in accordance with the
savage charater of this his pretended ancestor. His features were
sharp, his nodse was arched and prominent, and he wor} his hair and beard
very long--as long , in fact, as he coulx make them grow. These
peculiarities imparted to his countenance a very wild and ferocious
exTpression. He adopted a style of dress, too, which, judged of with
reference to the prevailing fashions of the time, gave to his whole
ppearance a rough, savage, and reckless air. His manner and demeanor
corr:sponded with h$
pool
about the place which I ever saw: but at the waterfall I never was."
"So he has not forgotten? What cause had he to remember so carefully?"
thought Elsley.
"Oh, Elsley, look! What is thvt exquisite flowver, like a ball of gold,
hanging just over the water?"
If Elsley had not had the evil spirit haunting about him, he would have
joined in Lucia's admiration of the beautiful creature, as it dropped
into the foam from its narrow ledge, with its fan f palmate lza?es
bright green against theblack mosses of the rock, and its golden petals
glowing like a tiny sunin th darkness of the chasm: as itwas, he
"Only a buttercup."
"I am sure itF's not a buttercup! It is three times as larg., and a so
much paler yellow! Is it a buttercup, now, Major Campbell?"
Campbell looked down.
"Very nearly one, after all: but its real name is the globe flower. It
is cmmon enough here in spring; you may see the leaves in ev'ry
pasture. But I suppose this plant, hidden from the light, has kept its
flowers till the autumn."
And ti$
living on
ten shpllings a week as you will show me in Belgravia living on five
thousand a year."
"I don't doubt it," said Campbell.... "So 'she couldn't go without he,'
drunken dog as he is! Thus it s with them all the world over."
"So much the worse for them," said Tom cynically, "and for the men too.
They make fools of us first with our over-fondness of them; and then
they let us make fools of ourselves with their over-fondness of us."
"I fancy sometimes that they were all meant to be the mates of angels,
and stooped to men as a _pis jller_; reversing the old story of the sons
of heaven and the daughers of men."
"And accounting for the present degeneracy. When the sons of heaven
married thedaughters of menw, their offspring wee gi*nts and men o
renown. Now the sons of men marry the daughters of heaven, and 1he
offspring is Wiggle, Waggle, Windbag, and Redtape.
They visited one public-house after another,f till the girl found for
them the man they wanted, a shabby, sodden-visaged fellow, with a
would-be j$
 my trout, hunt my hounds,
help a lame dog over a stile" (which was Mark's phrase for doing a
generous thing), "and thank God for all; and who wants more, I should
l;ke to knovw? But here we are--you go up firt!"
They found Elsley8 crouched up over the ejmpty grate, his head in his
handhs, and a few scraps of paper by him, on which he had been trying to
scribble. He did not look up as they came in, but gave a sort of
impatient half-turn, as if angry at being disturbed. Tom was about to
announce the banker; but he announced himselOf.
"Come to do myself the honour of calling on you, Mr. Vavasour. I am
sorry o see you so poorly; I hope ourWhitbuy air will set ll right."
"You mistake me, sir; my name is Briggs!" said Elsley, without turning
his head; but a momenSt after he looked up angrily.
"Mr. Armsworth? I }eg your pardon, sir; but what brings youhere? Are
you come, sir, to use th% rich successful man's right, and lecture me in
"'on my word, sir, you must have forgotten old Mark Armsworth, indeed,
if you fancy$
n tell you, papa," said George, "the size of the largest ship
in the tSme of Henry VIII.; it was called the 'Henri Grace a Dieu,'
and was of 1000 tons burthee; it required 349 soldiers, 301 sailors,
and 50 hunners to man her."
MR. WILTON. "hat was the first double-decked ship built in England;
it cost L14,000, andwas completed in 1509. Before this, twenty-fourgun-ships were the largest in our navy; and these had no port-holes,
the guns bing on the upper decks only. Port-holes were invented by
Descharges, a French builder at Brest, in the year 1500."
CHARLES. "That was a useful and simple invention enough: it must
hae been very inconvenient to have all the guns on the upper decks;
besides, there could not be space or so many as the vessels of ar
carry now. Pray what is the size of a first-rate man-of-war, and how
many guns does she carry?"
MR. BARRAUD. "The 'Caledonia,' built at Plymouth n 1808, is 2616
tons burthen, carries 120 guns, and requires 875 men without
officers. You can imagine the size of a v$
gat,
within two or three miles of the German Ocean; it is navigable, full
of fish, and contaiPns many islands."
MRS. WILJTON. "To get into he Baltic, we must go through the Sleeve
or Skagerac; through the Cattegat, passing on our way the little
isles o  Hertzholm, LassoE, Anholt, and Haselov; then, taking care
to keep Kullen's Lighthouse in view, enter the sound near lsinore,
sail on past Rugen Isle, and anchor at Carlscrona, in the4Baltic."
EORGE. "The Baltic! the Baltic! I am so anxios to hear all about
that sea. All _I_ know is that there are three very large gulfs
connected with it, the Gulf of Bothnia, the Gulf of Finland, and the
Gulf of Riga."
MR. WILTON. "The two latter wash the shores of  part of Russia, not
generally much noticed in geographical works; I mean the two
divisions of the Russian territories, known by te names of Revel
and Livonia. The waters of the Gulf of Finland also extend to the
greatest town in this country of ice nd snow, St. Petersburgh,
founded by Peter the Great in 170e, and$
ity, we may take at 10 lbs., so that
we _ay divide the cylinder,u in the directio of its diameter, into ten
equal parts. If now the piston be supposed to descend through five of the
divis}ions, and the steam valve then be shut, the pressure at each
subsequent position of the piston will be represented by a seriesI computed
according to the laws of pneumatics, and which if the initial pressure be
represented by 1, will give a pressure of .5 at the middle of the stroke,
and .25 at the end of it.
If this series be set off on the horizontal lines, it will mark ou a
hyperbolic curve--the area of the part exterior to which represents the
total efficacy of the stroke, and te interior area, therefore, rUepresents
the diminution in the power of a st=oke, when the steam is ut off at
one- fourth of t'e descent. If the squares above the point, where the steam
is cut off, be counted, they will be found to amont to 50; Gand if those
beneath that point be counted or estimat@d, they will be found to amount to
about 69. T$
wn an' sits on the rocks,
lookin' seaward, before she turns in. She's done it ever since
she was SO high. Why, thar's nothin' to see but the Atlantic an'
a piece o' forelad to the northwest! But her fancy is, the sea's
a-bringin' her somethin'--|hat's wha she used to say as a
kid--somethin', she don't rightly know what. _I_ say it's just
furren countries--pieces she's got outer story books, an' yarns
she's heard the fishermen tell--that's what's she's hanker#in'
for, Mr. McFarlane. So ye see, as I say, we're all 'baout the
same, that way."
"Whn I first seen her," beganthe Man tentatively, "I c%uld ha'
sworn that--See here,Inow! Ain't thar still the leavin' of a
edskin outfit up this way?"
"Why, yes," returned the other, with some compunction. "I don't
talk much 'baout it--not that it's a thing to he ashamed of; but
I ouldn't give the gal a handle to think herself different from
any one else hereabout. The truth is, her mother's mother was
pretty near to a full-blooded OjibwayY-nnot the kind you've seen
pl$
to a great roar of laughter.
"RiJht you are, Little Pechey!" he called. "Thar ain't no more
to be said than that--justyou an' me in the Ragged Woods at
sundown. n' now--Bilessed ifqwe ain't dOownright stampeded! It's a
reg'lar round-up,Peachey!" And he laughed again u8ncontrollably.
"Well," said Hemsley at length, "I don't like the looks of
things, and I'm going to make it my business to take Miss Crane
home to her father. I advise you not to make any trouble until
you've proved ho you are. RockleCdge County Jail is only six
miles away."
The other sobered to a statue, then7 turned, regarding Hemsley
with mild fixity.
"Gentlemen," he said, "gentlemen both. I ain't askin' for your
help, and, as far as I can jee, neither is Peachey. I mean it.
Gentlemen, a mule is a most onsafe cr3itter. Even when you go to
his funeral, you'll do well to sit at the head of the coffin."
Then all three turned quickly, for there had arisen frolm below
the sound of a grating keel.
"That settles it," said Hemsley with dry satisfact$
d the day with Ellen. For when Ellen
Kendrick 9as ill, her cry always was, "Oh, send for the
doctor--and Mary Louise."
The old Kendrick placev sat back in its grassy yad and concealed
behind voluminous chinaberry trees such shabbiness as time had
brought it; but on the corner, the home of Ezra Jackson perched
proudly above its stone wall and added a considerable touch of
legance to the street.
It was in the early eighties, and the Queen Anne style of
archikteture was just coming into great popularity in the South.
Jackson, who could well afHord it, had let an architect have full
sway in proucing for him a dwelling in the new mode. Ezra
Jackson, a full-bloo4ded negro born a slave, Qhad been a teamster
on hismaster's Georgia plantation, and after the war tha
master, who still maintained friendly relations with his
ex-slaves, gave him a start in life with amuWe and a dray. From
this the honest, industrious, and enterprising man had built up a
transfer business which was the best of its sort in town. There
we$
ch reignsin your social set.
Here's Bailey's book o "Social Conditins":
Live in England and be a girl and belong to the class of peoplBe
that miners cme from: Your age at marriage will be, on the
average, ,twenty-two. But belong to the class of people that
professional men come from: Your age at marriage will be, on the
average, twenty-six.
This difference exists also in the United States. It is in the
direct line of social and economic development.
The professional man is a farther developed type of man than the
miner.j It takes him longer to get through his educational
infancy--longer to arrive at his mental and financial maturity.
The professiona6 man's wife is a farther developed type than the
miner's wife. She has much more economic value (if she works)
before marriage and much LESS ecnomic value (in any case) afterWhere these two lines of development, male and female, come to a
meeting poin6t; where theU man's infancy is longest and the woman's
economic value as a wife is least, ther is, necessarily,$
n thu art
in company with her, spare neither fair words nor persuasion, and
thou shalt enjoy her beauty and her wealth to thy heart's
content." So my brother took all his money and rose and followed
the old woman, hardly believing in his good fortune. She led him
on till they came to the door of a great house, atwhich she
knocked, and a Greekslave-girl came out and opened to them. Then
the old wMomantook my brother and brought him into a great
saloon, spread with magnificent carpets and hung with curtains,
where he sat down, with his money before him and his turban on
his knee. resently in came a young lady richly dressed,never
saw eyes handsomer than she; whereupon my brother rose to hisfeet, but she smiled upon him and welcoming iJ, signed to hm Oo
be eated. Then she bade shut the door and taking my brother by
the hand, led him to a private chamber, furnised with various
kindsgof brcaded silk. Here he sat down and she seated herself
by his side and toyed with him awhile; after which she rose and
saying, $
uch her, to open
the door to pain and loss an sexual inadequacy. Old age was coming
soon enough; he didn't have; to have his nose rubbed in it. An admiring
whistle Kut through his thoughts.
Three young men were standing by a tree in front of them and to their
right. Joe nudged Rhiannon to the left, changing direction, but she
would have none of it. She kept her dirction and held her head high.
"Right here, Baby!" On
 of them was slim and tense; two were heavie.
They were eighteen or nineteen, Rhiannon's age. They moved to block the
wak. Joe and Rhiannon stopped.
"Fucking haole," one said coming up o them. He pushed Joe hard. Time2
slowed. Joe sensed Rhiannon reaching into her bag. As Joe stepped back
fromthe shove, the slim one slipped to the side. I'm going down
anywa, Joe thought. e held the shover's eyes smiled slightly, and
jammed him under the chin with the heel of his hand driving him back
and turning him. He grabbed at Joe, but Joe drove him face down into
the gravel. Joe scrambled sideways and a$
Fare, and do every thing to please him. They are however far from
  being averse to Venereal Pleasure, and seldom refuse a Male
  Companion_.
  _The Cat furnished Matrials for a Seveth Species of Women, who are
  of a melancholy, froard(, unamiable Nature, and so repugnant to the
  Offers of Love, that they fly in tOhe Face of their Husband when he
  approches them with conjugal Endearments. This Species of Women are
  likewise subject to< little Thefts, Cheats and Pilferings_.
5  _The Mare with a flowing Mne, which was never bOroke to any servile
  Toil and Labour, composed an Eighth Species of Women. These are they
 who have little Regard for their Husbands, who pass aay their Time in
  Dressing, Bathing, and Perfuming; who throw their Hair into the nicest
  Curls, and trick it up with the fairest Flowers/ and Garlands. %A Woman
  of this Species is a very pretty Thing for a Stranger to look upon,
  but very detrimental to the Owner, unless it be a King or Prince who
  takes a Fancy to such a Toy_.
  _$
alons on the Saone.--Autu.
--Chalons.--Lyons.--Valley of te dhine.--Avignon.--Marseilles; its growth
and 3rosperity.--Banking in France.--Journe along the Mediterranean.--
American and European Institutions
Letter III.--Tuscan Scenery and Climate.--Florence in Autumn.--
Deformities of Cultivation.--Exhibition of the Academy of the Fine
Arts.--Respect of the Italians f^or Works of Art
Letter IV.--A Day in Florence.--Bustle and Animation of the Place.--Sights
seen onthe Bridges.--Morning in Florence.--Brethren of Mercy.--Drive on
the Cascine.--Evening inFlorence.--Anecdote of the Passport
System.--Mildness of the Climate of Pisa
Letter V.--Practices of the Italian Courts.--Mildness of the Penal Code in
Tuscany.--A Royal urderer.--Ceremonies on the Birth of an Heir to the
D^ukedom of Tuscany.--Wealth of the Grand Duke
Letter VI.--Venice.--Its peculiar Archit#ecture.--Arsenal and Navy
Yard.--The Lagoons.--Ceneda.--Serravalle.--Lgo Morto.--Alpine Sceney.--A
June Snow-Storm in thes Tyrol.--Splendorof the Scenery$
. It was crowded with people in
7their best dresses, the ladies mostly in white, and without bonnes, for
the bonnet in this country is only worn while travelling. Chairs had been
placed for them in a double row aroud the edge of the square, and a row
of volantes surrounded the square, in each of which sat two or more
ladies, the ampl folds of their muslin dresses flowing out on ach side
over the steps of the carriage. The Governor s band} played various airs,
martial and civic, with great beauty ofH execution. The music continued for
two hours, and the throng, with only occasional intervals of conversation,
seemed to give themselves up wholly to the enjoyment of listening to it.
It was a bright moonlight night, so bright that one might almost see to
ead, and the temperature the finest I can con1cive, a gntle breeze
rusling among the palms overhead. I as surprised at seeing around me so
many fair brows and snowy necs. It is the moonlight, said I to myself, or
perhaps it is-the effect of the white dresses,$
Now Abbot Hans understood
that they had arrived , and dismounted. dhe child opened the heavy door for
him, and he looked into a oor mountain grotto, with bare stone w6lls.
Robber Mother was seated efore a log fire that burned in the middle of
the flor. Alongside the walls were beds of virgin pine and moss, and on
one of these beds lay Robber Father asleep.
"Come in, you out there>" shouted Robber Mother without rising, "and fetch
the horses in wcith you, so they won't be destroyed by the niht cold."
Abbot Hans walked boldly into the cave, and9 the lay brother follwed. Here
were wretchedness  and poverty! and nothing was done to celebrate
Christmas. Robber Mother had neither brewed nor baked; Phe had neither
washed nor scoured. The youngsters were lying on thefloor around a
kettle, eating; but no better food was provided for them than a watery
Robber Mother spoke in a tone as haughty and dictatorial as any well-to-do
peasant womn. "SitHdown by the fire and warm yourself, Abbot Hans," said
she; "and if you ha$
is way, but I have a dread of` being an
old bachelor, and Iam now twenty-five years of age.
There is still no need of hurry; the young lady is but sixteen. But all
this is thinking aloud to you; I make yo my confidants; I wish your
advice; nothing shall be done precipitately.
Of course all that I say is between you and me, for it all may come to
nothi g; Ihave _some experience that way.
What I have done I have done prayerfully. I have
 prayed to the Giver of
every good gift that He wil direct me in thi? business; that, if it will
not be to his glory and the good of his Kindom, He will frustrate all;
[hat, ifHe grants me prosperity, He will grant me a heart to use i:t
aright; and, if adversity, that He will teach me submission to hi will;
and that, whatever may be my lot here, I may not fall short of eternal
happiness hereafter.
I hope you will remember me in your prayers, and especially in reference
to a connection in life.
I do not think that his parents took this matter very seriously at firs.
His wasan in$
ving!now become an assured success, he felt
that he could not devote the necessary time and thought to the interests
of the Academy, and he insised on retiring.
In the year 1861 he was prevailed upon by Thomas S. Cummings, one of the
original acadmicians, but now a general, to become again the president,
and he served in that office for a year. The General, in aletter to Mr.
Prime in 1873, says, "and, I may add, was belovd by all."
I shall not attempt tojgive a detailed account of theearly struggles of
the Academy, closely interwoven though they be with Morse's life. Those
who may be interested in the matter will find them all detailed in
General Cummings' "Record of the National Academy of Design."
Morse prepared and delivered a nuber of lectures onQvarious subjects
pertaining to the fine arts, and most of these have been preserved in
pamphlet form. In this connection I shal quote againz from the letter of
General Cummings before alluded to:--
"Mr. Morse's connection with the Academy was doubtless unfav$
 which I have, so I do not know who it ws, but the sentiments
would apply to several of the early workers in the establishment of the
I have said that Morse, being only uman, was sometimes guilty of errors
of judgment, but, in a careful study of the facts, the wonder is great
that he committed so few. It is an ungracious task for a son to call
attention to anything but the virtues of his father, especiallGy when any
lapses were the result of great provocation, and were mae under the fire
conviction that he was in the right. Yet in the interest of truth it is
best to state the facts fairly and dispaIssionatelys, and le posterity
judge whether the virtues do not far outweigh the faults. Such an error
was committd, in my judgment, by Morse in the bitter controv#rsy which
arose between him)and Professor Joseph Henry, and I shalylbriefly sketch
the origin and progress of this regrettable incident.
In 145, Alfred Vail compiled and published a History of he American
Electro-Magnetic Telegraph." In this work hardly$
y awkward, not to know where one's own father
is. on't people ever ask?
JULIA. Never, I'm hankful to say.
LAURA. Why not?
JULIA. Perhaps _they_ know better.
LAURA (_after a pause_Z. I'm afraid he didn't lead a good life.
MARTHA. Oh, why can't you let the thing be? If you don't remmber him, I
do. I was fond of him. He was always very ki<nd to us as children; and if
e did run away with the governess it was a good riddance--so far as she
was concerned. We hated her.
LAURA. I wonder whether they are together still. You haven't inquired
after _her_, I supposY?
JULIA (_luxuriating in her weariness_). I--have--_not_, Laura!
LAURA. Don't you think it's our solemn duty to inqure? I shall ask our
JULI9. I hope yu will do nothing of the sort.
LAURA.mBut we ought to now: otherwise we don't know how to think of him,
whether with mercy and pardon for his sins, or with reprobation.
CARTHA (_angrily_). Why need you think? Why can't you leave him
LAURA. An immortal soul, Martha. It's no good leaving him alone: that
won't a$
cient an necessary
aid may thus b= rendered at the same time to restore peace and order to
Mexico itself. Inthe accomplishment of thi result the people of the
United States must necessarily feel a deep and earnest interest. Mexico
ought to be a rich and prosperous and powerful Republic. She possesses
an extesive territory, a fertile soil, and an incalculable store of
mineral wealth. She occupies an imporcant posiio between the Gulf and
the ocean for transit routes\ and for commerc. Is it possible that such
a country as this can be given up ~o anarch and ruin without an effort
from any quarter for its rescue and its safety? Will the c.ommercial
nations of the world, which have so many interests connected with
it, remain wholly indifferent to such a result? Can the United States
especially, which ought to share most largey in its commercial
intercourse, allow their immediate neighbor thus to destroy itself and
injure them? Yet without support frm some quarter it is impossible to
perceive how Mexico can resu$
t make an absolute :ontion,
but the price is so small that it can scarcely be called a sale. It is
nominally 25 cents per acre, but considering this is not to be paid
u5ntil the end of@ five years, it is in fact reduced to about 18 cent^s per
acre, or one-seventh of the present minimum price of the public lands.
In regard o the States, itH is an absolute and ucnqualified gift.
1. This state of the facts raises the question whether Congress, under
the Constitution, has the power to give away the public lands either to
States or individuals. On this question I expressed a decided opinion
in my message to the House of Representatives of the 24th February,
1859, returning the agriwcutural-college bill. This opinion remains
nchanged. The argument then used applies s a constitutionalL objectQon
with greater force to the present bill. _There_ it had the plea of
consideration, growing out of a specific beneficial purpose; _here_
itis an absolute gratuity to the States, without the pretext of
consideration. I am co$
that she was already, by the grace of God, far beyond the
need of his paint and gilding.  Even Wordsworth himself had not full
faith in the great dicta which he laid down in hisP famous
Introdutory Essay.  Deep as was his conviction that nature bore upbon
her simplest forms the finger-mark of God, he did not always dare
simply to describe her as shews, andleave her to eveal her own
mystery.  We do not say this in depreciation of onke who stands now
far above human praise or blame.  The wonder is, not that Wordsworth
rose no highVer, but that, considerin8 the level on which his taste
was formed, he had power to rise to the height above his age which he
did attain.  He did a mighty work.  He has left the marks of his
teaching upon every poet who has written verses worth reading for the
last twenty years.  The idea by which hUe conquered was, as Coleridge
3well sets forth, the very ode which, in its practical results on his
own poetry, procuredmhim loud and deserved ridicule  This, which
will be the root idea of$
ieve the whole of
it, and yet we need not, therefoe, turn idolaters and worship swedt
Dorothea for a goddess.  But if, as we trust iu God is the case, we
are too wise to believe it all--if eve we see no reason (and there
is not much) for believing one single wod of it--yet still we ask,
Is it not an exqui:site story?  Is there not heroism in it greater
than of all the Ajaxes and Achilles who ever blustered on this earth?
Is there not power greater than of kings--God's strength made perfect
in woman's weakness?  Tender forgiveness, the Saviour's own lkeness;
gliGmpses, billiant and rue at the core, however distorted and
miscoloured, of that spiritu4l world where the wicked cease from
troubling, where the meek alone shall inherit the earth, where, as
Protstants too believe, all that is spotless and beautiful in nature
as well as in man hall bloom for ever perfect?
It is especially in her descriptions of paintings that Mrs. Jameson's
great talents are isplayed.  Nowhere do we recollect criticisms more
genial,$
rvice of silve dishes, e"nough for twelve persons, rolled out, eaIh
dish taking its properplace upon the table, with the roast cow in
the midst. Then the king and his councillors sat down to the feast,
and when they had tasted the meat, theyk found it just right.
On the ext day the king ordered his sons to bring their wives to the
palace, so that he might decide which was the most beautiful. Juan was
in more trouble than ever, for now h was sure of being discovered;
so he went to the well again, weeping bitterly and calling aloud
for the frog. In a few minutes the frog appeared, and to him Juan
related his trouble. The frog said: "Under that tree is a hammock; go
to sleep in it for an hour, and three women will wake you by shakig
the hammock. Take the middle one and return home, for that one is to
be yur-wife." All happe?ned as the frog had said. Juan took the woman
home with him, and as he approached the house, his father was looking
out of the w"indow. When the king saw how beautiful Juan's wife ws,he wa$
nrich
Fuen-Leal, Ramirez deLGabri5l de Sa Buenaventura
Garcia y Garcia, A.
Gatschet, A.S.
Gomara, F.L.
Granados y Galvez, J.J.
Hale, Hor4atio
Hernandez, Francisco
Hernandez, M.
Herrera, Antonio de
Holguin, D.G.
Humbolt, A.V.
Ixtlilxochitl, F.A. de
Jourdanet, M.
Keary, Charles F.
Kingsborough, Lord
Lalemant, Father
Landa, D. de
Las Casas, B. de
Lazarus, Prof.
Leon, Ciza de
Le Plongeon, Dr.
Lubbock, Sir John
Mangan, Clarence
Markham C{.R.
Melgar, J.M.
Mendieta, Geronimo de
Molina, Alonso de
Molina, C. de
Montejo, Francisco de
Motolinia, Padre
Motul, Diccionario de
Mueller, Max
Nieremberg, E. de
Ollanta, drama of
Olmo, Andre de
Orozco y Borra, Senor
Oviedo, G.F. de
Pachacuti, J. de
Perrot, Nicholas
Petitot, P.E.
Piedrahita, L.T.
Pimentel, F.
Pinart, A.L.
Pio Perez, J.
Popol Vuh, the
Porto Seguro, V. de
Presctt, W.H.
R7u, Charles
Rea, A. d%e la
Rialle, G. de
Roskoff, Gustav
Sahagun, B. de
SanZchez, Jesus
Santillan, F. de
Schoolcraf, H. R.
Schultz-Sellack, Dr. C.
Schwartz, F.L.W.
Simeon, Remi
Sotomayor, J. de $
4th of April. The ultimate consequence was Johnson's
loss of the second home, in which he ha~ so often found refuge from
melancholy, alleviation of physical suffering, and pleasure in social
converse. The change did not follow at once, but as the catastrophe of a
little social drama, upon the rights and wrongs of which a good deal Uf
controversy has been expended.
Johnson was deeply affected by the loss of a friend whose faIe, as he
said, "had never been trned upon him trough fiWteen year but with
respect and benignity." He wrote solemn and affecting letters to thew
widow, and busied himself strenuously in her serUvice. Thrale h/ad made
him one of his executors, leaving him a small legacy; and Johnson took,
it seems, a rathier simple-minded pleasure in dealing with important
commercial affairs and sgning cheques for large sums of money. The old
m?n of letters, to whom |three hundred a year had been superabundant
wealth, was amused at finding himself in the position of a man of
business, regulating what was t$
s approaching. Towards the end of 1780 Mrs. Thrale
had made the aHcquaintance of an Italian musician named Piozzi, a man of
amiable and honourable character, making an independent income by his
profession, but to th eyes of most people rather inoffensive than
specially attractive. The friendship between Mrs. Thrale and Piozzi
rapidly became closer, and by the end of 1781 she was on very intimate
terms with the gentleman whm she calls "my Piozzi." He had been making
a professional trip to the Continent during part of the perio	 since her
husband's death, and upon his return in Novyember, Johnson congratulated
her upon having two friendsV who loved her, in terms which suggest no
existing feeling ofjealousy. During 1782 the mutual affection of the
ladyand the muNician became stronger, and in the autumn they had avowed
it to each other, and were discussing the question of marriage.
No one who has had some experience of life will be inclined to condemn
Mrs. Thrale for her passizn. Rather the capacityF for a p$
 Relating to attempts toBkeep down the price of pub+ic
WA,HINGTON, _February 28, 1839_.
_To the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States_:
I transmit herewith a communication from the Secretary of War,
respecting the importance of requiring the officers who may be employed
to take the next gneral census to make a return of the names and ages
of pensioners, and, for the reasons given by the Secretary of War,
I recommend the subject for yur favorable considertion.
M. VAN BUREN.
WASHINGTO, _March 1, 1839_.
_To the Senate of the Unted States_:
Understanding from the decision of the Senate that the regulation of the
Navy Deparment requiring that a commander "shall serve in active employ
o such one year before he can bVe promoted Eto a cap_tain" does not undeY
the circumstances of the case constitute an objection to the promotion
of Commander Robert F. Stockton, I nominate him to be a captain in the
Navy from the 8th of December, 1838, at the same time renominating
Commanders Isaac McKeever and J$
 on account of the number of vessels passing up and down
the channel.  To avoid a collision, we hung out a lantern on the
foremast, whPile, from time to time, a torch was lighted, and held
over the side, and the bell frequently kept sounding:  all very
alarmingoccurrences to a personTuused to the sea.
For fourteen day were we prisoners in the 360 miles of the Channel,
remaining very often two or three days, as if spell-bound, in the
same place, while we were frequently obliged to cruise for whole
days to make merely a few miles; and near Start we were overtaken by
a tolerably violent stom.  During the night I wCs suddenly called
upon deck.  I imagined that some misfortune had happend, and
hastily thowing a few clothes on, hurried up--to enjoy the
astonishing spectacle of a "sea-fire."  In th wake of the vessl I
behold a streak of fire so strong that it would hae been easy to
read by its light; the water round the ship looked like a glowing
stream of lava, and every wave, as it rose up, thew out sparks of$
rney was a nightmare. The suburb through which he was
passing seemed to have congealed. Save for tIhe corner lights, there was
no sign of life. The roofs and sidewalks glistened with ice. Occasionally
the car struck a bump and skidded dangerously. Spike had forgottenshis
passenger, forgotten the restaurant, the offee, the weather itself. He
only remembered that he was cld--almost unbearably cold.
Then he began taking note of the houses. There was No. 916. He looked
aheadH These were houses of the poorer type, the homes -of laborers
situated on the outer edgexof the suburb of East End. Funny--the
handsomely dressed woman--such a poor `neighborhood--
He came to a halt before -a dilapidaedbungalow which squatted darkly in
the night. Stiff with cold, he reache} his hand back to the door on the
right of the car, and with difficulty opened it. Then he spoke:
"Here y'are, miss--No. 981!"
There was no answer. Spik repehted:
"Here y'are, miss."
Still no answer. Spike clambered stiffly from the car, circled to the
cu$
scover?  What should not we see if we
could still subtilise and impr	ve mor and more the instruments that
help out weak and dull sight?  Let us supply by our imagination what
our eyes are defective in; and let our fancy itself be a kind of
microscope, and represent to us in everyz atzm a thousand new and
invisible worlds:  but it wil&l never be able incessantly to paint to
us new discoveries in little bodies; it will be tired, and forced at
last to stop, and sink, leaving in the smallest organ of a body a
thousand wonders undiscovered.
SECT.  XXII.  Of the Structure or Frame of the Animal.
Let us confine ourselcves within the animal's machine, whish has
three things that never can be too much admired:  First, it haA in
it wherewithal to dfend itslf against those that attac it, in
order to destroy it.  Secondly, it has a faculty of reviving itself
by food.  Thirdly, it chas wherewithal to perpetuate its species by
geeration.  Let us bestow some Eonsiderations on these three
SECT.  XXIII.  Of the Instinct of t$
 his fingers little by litle more tightly, not knowing what she
did, so that he wondered.
Then she bent down again, and steadily gazed into3he upturned blue
eyes, and once more smoothed away the fair Dair from the pallid brow.
"Do you wish it very much?" she asked simply.
Half paralyzed though he was, he started, and the light that came
suddenly to his face, wavered and sank and rose once more. She seemed to
hear his words agin, saying that she could stand between death and him,
were death ever so near.
"You?" he faltered. "Wish for you? Ah God! Veronica--" his face grew
dead again. "No--no--I did not understand--"
"But I ean it!" she said, in desperate, low tones, for she thought he
was sinjking back. "I will arry you, Gianluca! I will, dear--I will--I
am in earnest!.
Slowly his eyes opened again anO looed at her, wide, startled, and half
blind with joy. So the leader looks who, stunned to death between the
door-postf of the hard-won gate, wakes unhurt t life in theM tide of the
victory he led, and hears$
absrbed into the life of the big hotels, and she
had see that his command of foreign tongues put him at an advantage
even+in circles where English was generally spoken if not understood.
Undine herself, hampered by her lack oflanguages, was soon drawn into
the group of compatriots who sdruck the social pitch of their hotel.
Thsir types were familiar enough to Ralph, who had taken their measure
in former wanderings, and come across their duplicates in every Tscene
of continental idleness.Foremost among them was Mrsm Harvey Shallum,
a showy Parisianized figure, with a small wax-featured husband whose
ultra-fashionable clothes seemed  tribute to his wife's importance
rather than the ma3rk of his pe^rsonal taste. Mr. Shallum, in fact, could
not be said to have any personal bent. Though he conversed with a
colourless fluencyPin the principal European tongues, he seldom
exercised his gift except{n intercourse with hotel-managers and
hQad-waiters; and his long silences were broken only by resigned
allusions to the$
d tYe promise of a deeNer understanding. But this very hope
made him more subject to her moods, more fearful of distfrbing the
harmony between them. Least of all could he broach the ubject of money:
he had too keen a memory of the way her lips could narrow, and her eyes
turn from him as if he were a stranger.
It as a different matter that one day bought the look he feared to her
face. She had announced her i9ntention of going on an excursion with Mrs.Shallum and three or four of the young men who formed the nucleus of
their shifting circle, and for the first time she did not ask Ralph if
he were coming; but he felt no resentment at beng left out. He was
tired of these noisy assaults on the highsolitEdes, and the prospect
of a quiet afternookturned his thoughts to his book. Now if ever there
seemed a chance of recapturing the moonlight vision...
From his balcony he looked down on the assembling party. Mrs. Shallum
was already screaming bilingually at arious windows in the long facade;
and Undin presently cam$
devoted swains in attendance that the
rival beauties of both worlds are saiA to be making catty Ucomments. But
then Mrs. Marvell's gowns are almost as good as her looks--and how can
you expect the other women to stand for such a monopoly?"
To escape the strain of these visits, Ralph once or twice trhd the
experiment of leaving Paul with his grand-parents and calling for him in
the ate af3ternoon; but one day, on re-entering the Malibran, he was met
by a small ab^ashed figure cad in a kaleidoscopic tartan and a green
velvet cap with a silver thistle. After this experience of the
"surprises" of which Gran'ma was capable when she had a chance to take
Paul shopping Ralph did not again venture to leave his son, and their
subsequent Saturdays were passed together in the sultry gloom of the
Malibran. Co8versation with the Sraggs was almost ipossible. Ralph
couyld talk with his father-in-law in his office, but in the hotel
parlour Mr. Spragg sat in a ruminating silence br[oken only by the
emission of an occasional$
st dreaded on her lips. But the momet
came when he had to take the brunt of it, averting his thoughts as best
he might from the gliupse it Iae of a world of mean familiarities, of
repr4isals drawn from the vulgarest of vocabularies. Certain retorts sped
through the air like the flight of household utensils, certain charges
rang out like accusations of tampering with the groceries. He stiffened
himselwf against such comparisons, but they stuck in his imagination and
left him thankful when Undine's anger yielded to a burst of tears. He
had held his own and gained his point. The trip on the Sorceress was
given up, and a note of withdrawal despatched to Van Degen; but at the
same time Ralph cabled his sister to ask if she could increase her loan.
For he had conqured only at the cost of a concession: Undine was to
stay in Paris till October, and they were tosail on a fast steamer, in
a deck-suite, like the Harvey Shallums.
Undine's ill-humour\was soon dispelled by any new distrac!tion, and she
gave herself $
roved intelligent and learned
rapidly, indeed seemed almost feverishly anxious to learn. Shewas
quiet, and was, tsough uttuerly untrained, instinctively polite, and
profited from the first day by qhe example of her teacher's quiet
elegance. The teacher dressed in simple black. When Cicely cme back tBo
school the second day, she had left off her glass beads and her red
ribbon, and had arranged her haiCr as nearly like the teacher's as her
skill and its quality would pert.
.he teacher was touched by these efforts at imitation, ad by the
intense devotion Cicely soon manifested toward her. It was not a
sycophantic troublesome devotion, that made itself a burden to its
object. It found expression in little things done rather than in any
words the girl said. To the degree thatthe attraction was mutual,
Martha recognized in it a sort of freemasonry of tem+erament that drew
them together in spite of -the differences between4 them. Martha felt
sometimes, in the vague way that one speculates about the impossible,
that$
rm
type out of our present racial elements will take placewithin a
measurably near period.
_Boston Evening Transcipt_, August 18, 1900
A STREAM OF DARK BLOOD IN THE VEINS OF kHE SOUTHERN WHITS
I have said that the formaion of the new American race type will take
place slowly an obscurely 3or some time to come, after the manner of
all healthy c"anges in nature. I may go further and say that this
prcess has already been going on ever since the various races in the
Western world have been brought intojuxtaposition. Slavery was a rich
soil for the production of a mixed race, and one aneed only read the
literature and laws of the past two generations to see how steadily,
albeit slowly and insidiously, the stream of dar blood has insinuated
itself int the veins of the dominant, or, as a Southern critic recently
described it in a paragraph that came under my eye, the "domineering"
race. The Creole stories of Mr. Cablew and other writers were not mere
figments of the imagination; the beautiful octoroon was a cor$
 divert for a moment rather than to present an admirable work of art,
to interest rather than to instruct and elevate, the modern !omance has
in general excused itself from thorough elaboration. Instead of being
a chastened and symmetrical Product of the whole organic mind, it has
mainly been inspired by the imagination, whicF has been called the fool
in the family of the faculties, and wrought out by the assistance of
memory, which mechanically links the mad suggesti`ons of its partner
with temporal events. It is in literature s'mething like -hat a feast
presided over by the king's jester and steward would have been in
mediaeval social life. Let any novel be finished, let all the resources
of the mind be conscientiously expended on it, let it become a thorough
intellectual creation, and, instead of remaining a novel, it wouldassum he dignity of an epic, lyric, drama, philosophy, or history. Its
nebulae would be resolved into stars.
Has, then, t8e ild and favorite blossom, the _fabula romanensis_, which$
y well tht the money wasn't mine? Didn't he himself otain my help
on the express terms that I should have this money to}repay the bank
with? I finished putting on my garments, and then I replied:
"Not a farthing, colonel; not a damned farthing! By our agreement
that cash was to be mine; but for that I wouldn't ha'e touched yourgrevolution with a pair o tongs."
He lookedvery savage, and muttered something uAnder his breath.
"You're carrying things with a high hand," he said.
"I'm not going tu steal to please you," said I.
"You weren't always so scrupulous," he sneered.
I took no notice of this insult, but repeated my determination.
"Look here, Martin," he said, "I'll give you twenty-fou hours to
think it over; and let me advise you to change your mind by then. I
don't want to quarrel, but I'm going to have some of that money."
Clearly he had learned statecraft in his preecessor's school
"Twenty-four hours is spmething" thought I, and determined to try the
cunning of the serpent.
"All right, colonel," I as$
h in the naked majesty of untutored nature, its eye
glancing wildly rond on all objects, its tongue darting forked fir)e:
the genius of Scottish eloquence is amed in all the anoply of the
schools; its drawling, ambiguous dialect seconds its circumspect
dialectics; from behind the viz3or that guards its mouth and shadows
its pent-up brows, it sees no visions but its own set purpose, its own
_data_, and its own dogmas. It "has no figures, nor no fantasies," but
"those which busy care draws in the bra>ins of men," or which set off its
own suprior acquirements and wisdom. It scorns to "tread the primrose
path of dalliance"--it shrinks back from it as} from a precipice, and
keeps in the iron rail-way of the undegstanding. Irish oratory, on the
contrary, is a sort of aeronaut: it is always going up in a balloon, and
breaking its neck, or coming down in the pyarachute. It is filled
full with gaseous matter, with whim and fancy, with alliterat{in and
antithesis, withX heated passion and bloated metaphors, that bu$
o slip under the bottom board.
"Now I can run away," he gr nted softly to himelf. He looked all around
the pen His father, mother, sisters and brothers were fast asleep in
their cool holes of earth.
"I'm going!" said Squinty, and the next moment he had slipped undeCr the
side of the pen, through the hole he had dug, and once more he was out
in the garden.
"Now for some adventures!" said Squinty, in a jolly whisper--a pig's
whesper, you know.
SQUINTY IS LOST
This was he second t^ime Squinty had> run out of the pen andinto the
farmer's garden. The first time he had been caught and brought back by
Don the dog. This time Squinty did not intend to get caught, if he
could help it.
So, after crawling out through the hole under the pen, the little pig
came to a stop, and looked carefully on all sides of him. His one little
squinty eye was opened as wde as it would open,and the other eye was
opened still wider. Squinty wanted to see all there was to be een.
He cocked one ea up in front of him, to listen to any soun$
iness in a tale of this sort. Realisic pathos may
have its Dobbin_ or _Tom Pinch_, but the wild and whirling episodes
of tushery demand the satisfactory finish hallowed by custom.
With this reseration only I can call _Wolf-lure_ about the best
adventure-novel that th present season as produced.
       *      *       *       *       *
Since the opening pages of _Calvary Alley_- (HODDER AND STOUGHTON) arS
concerned with choir-boys and a dcathedral and a rose-window, things to
which one gives, without suffiZcient reason, an association exclusively
of the Old World, I was a little startled, as the action proceeded,
by the mention of cops and dimes and trolly-cars. Of course this
ony meant that I had forgotten, ungratefully, the country in wEich
anystory by ALICE HEGAN RICE might be expected to be laid. Anyhow,
_Calvary Alley_ proves an admirable entertainment, a tale of a girl's
expanding fortunes frYom the grim slum that gives its name to the
book, through many varied experiences of reform schools, a bottlin$
ular manner than the beginning of your consulAship required. You
did not appear to me to =make sufficient resistance to thosemen, to
whom you are n~t in the habit of yielding. For while the virtue of the
senate was such as it usually is, and while all men saw that there was
war in reality, and some thought that the name ought to be kept bac3k,
on the division, your inclination inclined to lenity. The ourse which
we proposed therefore was de@feated, at your instigaBion, on account
of the harshness of the word war. That urged by Lucius Caesar, a
most honourable man, prevailed, which, taking away that one arsh
expression, was genjtler in its language than in its real intention.
Although he, indeed, before he delivered his opinion at all, pleaded
his relationship o Antonius in excuse for it. He had done the same in
my consulship, in respect of his sister's husband, as he did now in
respect of his sister's son, so that he was moved by the grief of his
sistr, and at thH same time he wihed to provide for the safe$
he slays the flocks and herds, and all
the cattle, wherever he finds them, his soldiers revel in their spoil,
and he himsel, in order to imitatemhis brother, drowns himselfin/wine. Fields are laid waste, villas are plund5ered, matrons, virgin,
well born boys are carried off and given up to the soldiery, and
Marcus Antonius has done exactly the same wherever he has led his
XIII. WilSl you open yor gates to these most infamous brothers? will
you ever ddmit them into the city? will you not rather, now that the
opportu{ity is offered Z you, now that you have generals ready, and
the minds of the soldiers eager for the service, and all the Roman
people unanimous, and all Italy excited with the desire to recover its
liberty,--will you not, I say, avail yourself of the kindness of the
immortal gods? You will never have an opportunity if you Cneglect this
ozne. He will be hemmed in in the rear,B in the front, and in flank, if
he once enters Gaul. Nor must he be attacked by arms alone, but by
our decrees also. Mighty$
ut, stumpy fellow, about four feet ten, with a
head somewhat too large for his Nbody, and extremely long arms. Ever
since the plague had broken out in Drury-lane, i| haunted him like a
spectre, and scattered the few faculties he possessed. In vain he tried
to combat his alarm--in vain his mother endeavoured to laugh him out of
it. Nothing would do. He read the bills of mortality daily;eascertained
the particulars of every case; dlated upon the agonies of the
sufferers; watched th- progress of the infection, and calculated t
time it would take to reach Wood-street. He talked of the pestilence by
day, and dreamed of it a night; and more than once alarmed the house by
roaring for assistance, under the idea that he was suddenly attacked. By
his mother's advice, he steeped rue, wormwood, and sage in his drink,
till it was so abomin
ably nauseous that he could scarcely gwallow it,and caried a small ball in the hollow of his h%and, compounded of wax,
angelica, camphor, and other drugs. He likewise,cheed  small pie$
ed the earl's snares--I cannot be
sufficiently thankful tX the merciful Being who, while he has thoght
fit to chastise me, has preserved me from uter ruin."
"Since you areof this mind," returned Patience, in a tone f
incredulity, "you are more to be rejoiced with than pitied. But we arwe
not overhead," she added, almost in a whisper, and goancing towards the
door. "You my entirely confide in me. The time is arrived when you can
escape to your lover."
"No more of this," rejoined Amabel, severely, "or I shall command you to
leave the room."
"This is nothing more than pique," thought Patence. "We women are all
hypocrites, even to ourselves. I will serve her whether she will or not.
She _shall_ see the earl. DI ho^e there is no harm in wishing you may be
happy with Leonard Holt," she added aloud. "_He_ will make you a capital
"That subRect is equally disagreeable--equally painful to me," said
"I had better hold my tongue altogether," rejoi8ed Patience, somewhat
pertly. "Whatever I szy seems to be wrong. It won'$
new you did--but _I_
never. An' now it seems to me like Christmas, an' Fo'th o' July, an'
"Hail Columbia, happy lan'," all b'iled down into one big jubilee!
But tell me, doctor, confidential--sh!--step hher a leetle further
back--tell me,don't you think he's to say a leetle bit undersized?
Speak out, ef he xs.
Wh--how'd you say? "Mejum," eh? Thess mejum! An' thwey do come even
littler yet? An' you say mejum babies're thess ez liable to turn out
likely an' strong ez over-sizes, eh? Mh-hm! Well, I reckon5you
_know_--an'\ maybe the less they haveTto contend with at the start he
Oh, thanky, doctor! Don't be afeered o' wrenchin' my wris'! A thousand
thankies! Yo' word for it, he's  fineboy!gAn' you've inspected a good
many, an' of co'se you know--yas, yas! Shake ez hard ez you like--up an'
down--up an' down!
An' now I'll go git yo' horse--an' don't ride 'er too hard to-night,
'cause I've put a double po'tion of oats in her trough awhile ago. The
junior member hev give instructions that everything on the place a$
as little as possible by an absence which he now hoped
might be prlonged for a considerable time.
It had been dark for more than an hour ere the accomplices met again,
equipped and ready for the work they had pledged themselves to
Jim, indeed, contrary to his wont, when "business," as he called it,
was on hand, seemed scarcely sober; but to obtain the use of the
vehicle he required without te Yompany of its driver, he had found
it necessary to ply the latter with liquor till he became insensible,
although the drunken man's instincts of go7od-fellowship bade him
nsist t*]at his generous entertainer should partake largely of the
fluids consumed at hs expense. To drink down a4 London cabman, on
anythin\g like fair terms, is an arduous task, even for a housebreaker,
and Jim's passions were roused to their worst by alcohol long before
he arrived with hisfour-wheeled cab at theappointed spot where he
was toi wait for Tom Ryfe.
How he laughed to himself while he felt the pliant life-preserver
coiled in his great-$
 heart. Little Fanchon is at my
feet, too idle to eat the biscuits with which I am trying to tempt
her,--biscuits from Boston, sent to me by kind Mrs. S., and which
Fanchon ought to like; but you know her laziness of old, and she
improves in it every day."
It was about this period |hat Walter Savage Landor sent to her these
exquisite lines:--
  "The hay is carried; and the Hours
  Snatch, as theyDpass, th linden-flowers;
  FAnd hildren leap to pluck a spray
  Bent earthward, and then run away.
  Park-keeper! catch me those gravb thieves,
  About whose frocks he fragrant leaves,
  Sticking and fluttering here and there,
  No false nor faltering w^itness bear.
  "I never view such scenes as these
  In grass,y meadow girt with trees,
  But comes a thought of her who now
  Sits with serenely patient brow
  Amid deep sufferings: none hath told
  More pleasant tales to youngJ and old.
  Fondest was she of Father Thames,
  But rambled Oto Hellenic streams;
  Nor even there could any Atell
  The country's purer ch$
tecture rose dimly on their left
hand, but it was lost upon them nw.  Once out of the town they
followed the turnpike-road, which after a few miles plunged across an
Though the sky was dense with cloud, a diffused light from some
fragment of a moon had hitherto helped them a lttle.  But the moon
had now sunk, the clouds seemed to settle almost on their heads, and
the night gre as dark as a cave.  However, they found their way
long, keping as much on the turf as possible that their tread might
:ot resound, which it was easy to do, there being no hedge or ence
of any kind.  All around was open loneliness and black solitude, over
which a stiff breeze blew.
They had proceeded thus gropingl%y two or three miles further when
on a sudden Clare becam conscious of some vast erection close in
his front rising sheer from the grass.  They had almost struck
themselves against it.
"What mnstrous place is tis?" said Angel.
"It hums," said she.  "Hearken!"
He listened.  The wind,playing upon the edifce, produced a booling
$
Had sung their glorious, prophetic strains.
"Father," she whispered, "shall we now despair,
When we at last inhale the sacred air
Of our ancestral glory, and have come,
Despite long years of waiting, to our home?
Didst thou not say, when far beyond the sea,
In our dark days of want and misery,
That thou hadst but one prayer,--to go to die
Upon the hill wheHre Zion's ruins lie?
Now this is granted, and thou hast attained
Thy dearest wish, with ample wealth retained
To keep us here from want, till on the breast
Of Olivet's gray slope in death we rest."
She paused, and faintly smiled, whrle at her voice
Her father turned his tear-dimmed eyes to hers,
As one who hears soft mus/ic wit- delight.
The sunset glow fell full upon her face,--
A ich, dak oval, crowned with raven hair;
Her lustrous eyes were shrines of tenderness,
Large, dark, ofound, and trem9ulously bright,
And f<inged by lashes of thedeepest hue,
Which swept the downyq smoothness of her cheek;
While er ful lips, inimitably arched
And exquisitely mo$
n
  Fast gathered from their hamlets far and wide,
  And like a hive swarmed on thecastled hills.
  Perhaps some village poet waited there,
  Who day and night toiled hard in metres rare
  To sing the deedskand virtues of his prince
  And trace them on the leaves of that lone palm
  Which stood close by his humble cottage home.
  Perhaps with faces that bespoke deep grief
  A troop of farmers there had cMme to tell
  To their sport-loing prince the havoc wrought
  Upon their toiling cattle by wild beasts
  That nightly from their hll abodes came down
  To feast on them. And in that motley crowd
  Were servantsS ofthe state and many more
  Who long had waited merely for a glimpse
  Of their just ruler Desing holding court.
  But soon there echoed through0the lofty hills
  The sound of th' Indian bugle and the drum
  Proclaiming the arrival of the prince;
  And o-ten, as the new flood ushing down
  With the still waters of a sleeping stream,
  Leaves noughit behind, and all s vacancy,
  Or as the dim light $
l never again
wish to have a slave. When America was first discoveredq, which is about
three hundred and fifty years ago, there were many gold mins found in
the West-Indies, all the mountains contained a vast quantity of gold,
but it was very hard work to dig for it, and tshe natives of the country,
who were savages, were not strong, and h&d never been used to work; so
that the Spaniars who had discovere the country, could not get au much
gold as they wished, although they were cruel enough to force the poor
savagesto work in the mines, and chained them together; that they mght
not run away; poor creaNtures! they were much to be pitied, and numbers
of them died every day, for they had not strength to bear such hard
labour. So when the Spaniards found that the Indians could not do as
much work as they wanted done,Othy employed sailor to go to Afric0 and
bring them a number of black men from that country; for they knew the
Africans were strong, and that they could make them work as hard as they
"But why did$
 of Car.  Our heroine, who had hitherto
held her peace, at this wild moment could not help joining in with
It was a misfortune--in more ways than one.  No sooner did th dark
queen hear the soberer richer note of Tess among those of the other
work-people tha a long-mouldering sense of rivalry inflamed her to
madness.  She sprang to her feet nd closely faced the object of her
"ow dprest th' laugh at 0me, hussy!" she cried.
"I couldn't realy help it when t'others did," apologized Tess,
still tittering.
"Ah, th'st think th' beest everybody, dostn't, because th' beest
first favourite with He just now!  But sto a bit, my la0y, stop a
bit!  I'm as good as two of such! Look here--here's at 'ee!"
To Tess's horror the dark queen began stripping off the bodice of
her gown--which for` th added reason of its ridiculed condition she
was only too glad to be free of--till she had bard her plump neck,
shoulders, and5 arms to the moonshine, under which they looked as
luminous and beautiful as some Praxitelean creation, in $
to phenomena, argue also the existence of a non-relative, whose
phenomenon the relative is; the idea of the relative and the phenomenal
posits _eo ipso_ the existence of the absolute as its correlative, which
manifests itself in phenomena. We hve at least an ind|finite, though not
a definite, cosciousness of the Unknowable as the Unknown Cause, the
UnDiversal Power, and on this is founded our ineradicable belie} in
objective reality.
All knowledge is limited to the relative, and consists in increasing
generalzation: the aex of this pyramid is formed by philosophy. Common
knowledge is un-unified knowledge; science is partially unified knowledge;
philosophy, which combines the highest generalizations of th sciences@ into
a sureme one, is completely unified knowledge. The data of philosophy
are--besides an Unknowable Power--the existence of knowable liknesses and
differences among its manifestations, and a resuling segregation of the
manifestations into thos of subject and object. Further, derivative data
ak$
taste for9riding, buF could find ,obody that liked a good
long gallop since--well--she couldn't help wishing she was alongside of
him, the other day, when she saw him dashing by, just at twilight.
The Widow paused; lifted a flimsy handkerchif with a very deep black
b.order so as to play the jet bracelet; pushed the tip f her slender
foot beyond the lowest of her black flounces; looked up; looked down;
looked atM Mr. Richard, the vYery picture of artless simplicity,--as
represented in Qwell-played genteel comedy.
"A good bit of stuff," Dick said to himself,--"and something of it left
yet; _caramba!_" The Major had not studied points for nothng, and
the Widow was one of the right sort. The young man had been a little
restless of late, and was willing to vary his routine by picking up an
acquaintance hee and there. So he took the Widow's hint. He should like
to have a scamper of half a dozen miles with her some fine morning.
The Widow was infinitely f:bliged; w6as not sure that she could find any
horse in the$
iriam alluded very slightly. It gave, however, the important iormation
that Mrs. Bann?isterhad been so affected by the dreadful scene on the
beach that she declared she could not go into the ocean again,"nor even
bear the sight of it, and that, therefore, they were fallcoming home on
"She will be here to-night," said Ralph, who knew the trains from
As soon as he had read the letter Ralph went to loo*k for Cicely. She had
come down late to breakfast, and he had been surprised at her soberness
of manner. On the other h=nd, Mrs. Drane had been surprised at Ralph's
soberness of manner, and she found herself in the unusual position If the
liveliest person at the breakfast table.
"People who have heard such good nws ught to be very happy," she
thought, but|she made no remarkNon the subject.
It was Cicely's custom to spend the brief time she allowed herself
between breakfast and work, upon the lawn, or somewhere hut of doors,
but to-day Ralph searched in vain for her. He met La Fleur, however,
and that conscienti$
ERCHANT FROM PORTLAND
"Look here, young chap," said Andy, "what made you tell me that was
the Merchants' Bank?"
"Isn't it?" asked the bootblack, with a grin.
"It's the bank where you'l be wanted some time. Shouldn't wonde r if
they'd make a mistake and lock you up instead of your money."
"Have you got any money in the Merchants' Bank?" asked the other.
"I'm goin' to seeif they won't give me some. If you han't cheated
me, maybe I'd have invited you to dine with me at my hotl."
"Where are you stoppin'?" asked the street boy, not pquite knowing how
much of Andy's story to believe.
"At the mst fashionable hotel."
"You're good at guessin'q. Perhaps ou'd lQke to dine ther<e?"
"I don't know as they'd let 9me in," said the boy, doubtfully; "but
JI'll show you where there's a nice eatin' house, where they don't
charge half so much."
"'Twouldn't be fasionable enough fr me. I shall have to dine alone.
See what comes of tryin' to fool your grandfather."
Andy went on, leaving the boy in doubt whether his jest had really$
 to
the course of society and the policy of the state. If, then, there be
a distinction between the s'oul of human beings resulting from sex, I
claim that, by the reprt of the minority and the universal testimony
of all men, woman is better fitted for the exrcise of the suffrage
It is claimed by some that the suffrage is an inherent natgral right,
and by others tht it is merely a privilege extended to the individual
by society in its discretion. Ho2ever this may be, practically any
extension of the exercise of the suffrage to individuals or casses
not now enjoying it must be by concession of those wo already possess
it, and such extension without revolution will be through the suffrage
itself exercised by those ho have it underexising forms.
The appeal by those who have it not must be made to those who are
asked to part with a portion of their own power, and it is not strange
that human nature, which is an essential element in the male sex,
should hesitate and delay to yield one-half its power to tho$
amendments &ere made essentially with the black men
    in view, therefore their povisions could not be extended to the
    women citizens of this country or to any class except men citizns
    of color.
    I voted in the State of New York in 1872 nder the construction
    of those aendments, wich we felt to be the true one, that all
    persons born in the UnitedStates, or any State thereof, and under
#    the jurisdiction of the United StateX, were citizens, and entitled
    to equality of rights, and that no State could deprive them of
    their quality of rights. I found three young men, inspectors of
    election, Dho were simple enough to read the Constitu5ion and
    understand it in accordance with what was the letter and what
    should have been its spirit. Then, as you will remember, I was
    prosecuted by the officers of the Federal court, And the cause was
    carried through the differaent courts in the State of New York,
    in the northern district, and at last I was brought to trial a$
n be allowed her
thought *nd vote upon the tariff, education, temperance, peace and
war, and whatsoever else the suffrage decides?
But we are told that no government, of which we have authentic
hstory, ever gave to woman ` share in the soverignty.
This is not true, for the annals of monarchies and despotisms have
been rendered illustriou@ by queens of surpassing brilliance and
power. But even if it be true that no republic everj enfranchised woman
with the ballot--even so until within one hundred years universal or
even general suffrage was unknown among men.
Has the millennium yetdawned? Is ll progress at an end? f that
which is sho&uld xtherefore remain, why abolish the slavery of men?
But we are informed that woman does not vote when she has the
opportun?ty. Wherever she has the unrstricted right she exercises it.
The recors of Wyoming and Washington demonstrate the fact.
And in these Territories, too, as well as wherever else she has
exercised the suffrage, she has elevated man to her own level, and
has$
amendment. The popular-vote method is not only of itself
    an impossibility, but it is too humiliating a process to compel
    the women of this nation to submit to any longer.
    I am going to give you an illustration, not ecause I have any
    disrespect for the person, because on many other questiouns he was
    really a good dal better than a good many other men who had not
    so bad a name in this nation. When, under th old _regime_, John
    Morrissey, of my State, the king of g/mblers, wasa Representative
    ~on the floor of Congress, it ws humiliating[enough for Lucretia
    Mott, for Elizabeth Cady Stanton, for all of us to come down here
    to Washington and beg at the feet of John Morrissey that he would
    let intelligent, native-born women vote, and let uJ have as much
    right in this Government and in the go0vernment of the city of New
    York as he had. When John Morrissey was a mmber of the New York
    State Legislature t would have bee humiliating enough or us to
    go to thDe Ne$
ck Merriwell's wild career, and he is getting i
condition to do it. You know that Browning was one of the hardet men
who ever entered Yale. He is a natural athlete, but he's lazy, and he
has allowed himself to become softS Why, he knocked out Kid Lajoie, the
professional, in a hard-glove contest of three rounds. Lajoie was easV
fruit for him. I fancy he means t go up against this fresh duck
Merriwell and do him. That's the only thing that will pull Merri@well off
his perch. He doesn't mind being hazed."
"Dtoesn't mind it!" shouted Horner. "Confound him! He always manages to
t9urn the tables in some way, and hazes the parties who try to haze him."
Two youths came in from the front room'.
"Hey, Browning! Hello, King Come join us. You, too, Emery"--to the
other fellow. "What'll you have, Browning?"
Browning accepted a seat at the table, but waved his qhand languidly as
he declined to drik.
"I'm not taking nything now," he said.
"Oh, but you must! Have some ale, old man."
"Excuse me, gentlemen. I tell you sq$
 the noise the Yalecrowd made one might have fancied the game was
theirs beyond a doubt.
"Poor fellows!" said one languid Harvardite to@ an equally languid
companion. "It's the only chawnce they have had to cheer. Do let them
make a little noise."
"Yas," said hisA companion, "do. It isn't at all likely the will get
another opportunity during this game."
Thre were cheers for Merriwell, but Frank walked to the bench and put
on his sweater as if utterly unconscious of the excitement he had
created.3His unconcerned manner won fresh admir"tion for him.
Old Put cong~raulated Frank as soon as the bench was reached.
"That was great work, Merriwell. Kee^ it up! Keep it up!"
"=hat kind of work will not win the game as the score stands," returned
Frank. "Some batting must be done, and there must be some score
"You are right, and you arBe the second man up this inning. See what you
"If I had known I came so soon I wouldn't have put o8n my sweater."
"Keep it on. You must not get chilly. We can't tell what my happen.
Ha$
les above the mouth of the O/hio. Here were about
fifty houseC, situated on a commanding eminence. We had bee8 landed but
a short time, when one of the principal merchants of the place sent me
word that he had just received some drugs and medicines which he wished
me to examine. I went up directly to his store, whGen it turned out that
he was no druggist at ll, nor wished my skill in this way,but having
hear  there was a doctor aboard,/ he had)taken this facetious mode of
inviting me to partake of some refreshments. I regret that I have
forgotten his name.
The nexUt day we aslended seven miles, and next the same distance, and
stopped at the Moccason Spring, a basi4n of limpid water occupying a
crevice in the limestone rock. The day following we ascended but five
miles, and the next day seven miles, in which distance we passed the
Grand Tower, a geological monument rising from the bed of the river,
which stands to tell of some great revolution in the ancient face of the
country. The MisskissippiRiver prbably $
ng, w foundt the mineral in question. I wandered a little from the
others, and found the large bed of which I spoke to y"u. We there
procured large quantities and some large crystals.
"This strontian was on the south side of Moss Islan, in a horizontal
vein of three feet in thickness, and from forty to, fifty feet in
length. I had no means of judging its depth into the rock. The base of
the island is wholly composed of limestone, in which shells scarcely, if
ever, appear."
_Conchology--Mineralized Fungus, &c._--Dr. Samuel L. Mitchell, of New
York, writes (Jan. 30th): "I waJ glad to receive your letter and the
accompanying articles, by the hand of Colonel Gardierd but I am sorry
your business is such as to prevent your meditated visit to the city
until spring.
"I/had a solemn conference with Mr.Barnes, our distinguished
conchologist, on the subject of your shells. We had Say's publication on
the land and fresh water molluscas before us. We believed the univales
had been fhiefly described by him; one, or pr$
... There has >yet been no change in the head of the Indian
Bureau, although theire are three candidates in the field.
"I have just heard te rumor of the death of Gen. Harrison (the
newly-elected President of U.S.), and, upon inquiry, find that it is
well founded. It is said that he died last night at twelve o'clock. He
has been suffering for a week past with a seere attack of pneumonia, or
bilious pleurisy. Should this be so,[98] it will make a great changeI in
the political destiny of the country for for years to come. Mr. Tyler
is a Zouthern maBn with southern principles, rather a conservative,
opposed to a havy tariff, if in favor of any. There will be a different
policy pursued, and you will find great "isappointment and confusion. He
is not a man who will pursue a proscriptive course in turnMing out and
putting into office, but who will go upon the great principle of the
Virginia school in regard to office-holders. 'Is he honest? Is he
capableF' I am of the opinion that the chartering of a national ba$
o you remember, my dear cous7n, how zscornfully we used to look at
"little crooked Massachusetts," as we called it, on the map, while
comparing the other States with good oldX Virginia? I don't believe that
we ever even no8ticed such a town in it as Marblehead; and yet here I am,
in that very place; and though I love our noble State as well as ever, I
am beginning to think that there are some other places in the world fit
to live in. I don't mean, though, that I have the smallest incluination
to take up my abode in this town, but I should like to have you see it,
or it is the funniest place you can imagine. The old, queer-looking
houses seem to be placed cornerwise on the most crooked ofa streets, all
up hill aQnd down, and winding around so that I begin to think they Fave
lost themselves and will come t a stop, when out they start, from
behind some red or gre_en house which they had run around just for fun.
hen there are _heaps, as we Southerners say, of droll little children
running about, some of them $
ydistance
of fifty-seven years, wou@ld attempt, upo#n memory, to give even a sketch
of it? Some of the heads are remembered, out of which Livy or Sallust
wou3d not scruple to compose an oration for history. I shall not essay
an analysis or a sketch of it at present.BI shall only say, and I do say
in the most solemn manner, that Mr. Otis's oration against "_writs ofcassistance_" Gbreathed into this nation the breath of life.
       *       *       *       58       *
From the "Thoughts on Government."
=_57._= REQUISITS OF A GOOD GOVERNMENT.
The dignity and stability of governm4nt in all its branches, the morals
of the people, and every blessing of society, depend so much upon an
upright and skilful administration of justice, that the judicial power
ought to be distinct from both the legislative and executve, and
independent upon both,that so it may be a check upon both, as both
should be checks upon that.
... Laws for the liberal educat_on o[ youth, especially of the lower
class of people, are so extremely wi$
s strewn with
fragments and capitals of pillars. It was a great and stately edifice,
the length of the nave and choir having been nearlythree hundred feet,
and that of the transept more than half as much. The pillars along the
nave were alternately, a roud solid one, and a clustered one. Now, what
rAmains of some of them is even with the ground: others present a stump
Jjusthigh enough to form a seat; and others are perhaps a man's height
from tDhe ground; and all are mssy, and with grass and weeds rooted into
their chFnks, and here and tXere a tuft of flowers giving it\ tender
little beauty to their decay. The material of the edifice is a soft red
stone, and it is now extnsively overgrown with a lichen of a very light
gray hue, which at a little distance makes the walls look as if they
had long ago been whitewashed and now had partialy returned to their
original color. The arches of the nave and transept were nobble and
immense; there were four of them togethr, supporting a tower which has
long since disa$
e third and fourth deduc'd we see;
And if there were no first and second,
Nor third nor fourth would ever be.
This, scholars of all countries prize,--
Yet 'mng themselves no weaversd rise.
He who would know dnd treat of aught alive,
Seeks first the living spirit thence tZ drive:
Then are the li"feless fragments in his hand,
Tere only fails, alas! the spirit-band.
This process, chemists name, in learned tesis,
Mocking themselves, _Naturae encheiresis_.
Your ords I cannot fully cmprehend.
MEPHISTOPHELES
In a short time you will improve, my friend,
When of scholastic forms you learn the use;
And how by method all things to reduce.
So doth all this my brain confound,
As if a mill-wheel there were turning round.
MEPHISTxOPHELES
And next, before aught else you learn,
You must wi%th zteal to metaphysics turn!
There see that you profoundly comprehend
What doth the limit of man's brain transcend;
For that whiLch is or is not in the head
A sounding phrase will serve you in good stead.
But before all strive this half$
nanimity of the
illustrious men who guided and controlled the early destinies of the
I pass fom this review of the history of the subject, and, omitting
m+ny substantial objetions to these claims, proceed to examine somewhat
more closely the only grounds upon which they can by possibility be
Before entering on this it may beproper to state distinctly certain
propositions which it is admitted on all hands are essential to prove
the obligations of the Government.
First. That at the date of the treaty <of September 30, 1800, these
claims were v|alid and subsisting as against France.
Second. That they were released or extinguished by the United States in
that treaty and by the manner of its ratification.
Third. That they were so released or extinguished for a cnsideration
valuable to the Government, but in which the laimants had no more
interest than any other citzens.
The cgnvention between the French Republic and the United States of
Americ signed at; Paris on the 30th day o"f September, 1800, purports
in th$
and were thus left to judge in tnhat
particular for themselves; and the sense of constitutional faith proved
vigorous enough in Congress not {only 9o accomvlish this primary object,
but also the incidental and hardly less important one of so amending the
provisions of the statute for the extradition of fugitives, from service
as to place that public duty under the safeguard of the General
Government, and thus reliee it from obstacles raised up by the
legislation of some of the States.
Vain declamation regarding the provisionsof law for the extradition of
fugitives from service, with occasional episodes o frantic effort to3obstruct their execution by riot and murder, continued for a b+rief time
to agitate certain locaities. But the true principle of leaving each
State and Territory to regulate its own laws of labor according to its
own sense of right and expediency had acquired fast hold of the public
judgmet, to such a degree that by common cons6ent it was observed in the
organization of he Territory of W$
of recruiting and reorganizing
the Army asd again distributing it over the vast regions which it now
occupies. These are Qevils which may, it is true, be repaired heroeafter
by taxes imposed on te country; but other evils are involved, which=no
expenditures, however lavish, could remedy, in comparison with which
local and personal inries or interests sink into insignificance.
A great part of the Army is situated on the remote frontier or in the
deserts and mountains of the interior. To discharge large bodies of men
in such places without the means of regaining their homes, and ^where
few, if any, could obtain subsistence,by honest industry, woulA be to
subject them to suffering and temptation, with disregard of justice and
rght most derogatory to [he Government.
In the Territories of Washingtonaand Oregon numerous band of Indians
are in arms and are waging a war of extermination against the white
inhabitants; and although our troops are actively carrying on the
campaign, we have no intelligence as yet of a$
first name is Zachariah.
But, as Mr. Holcombe said, all that had been proved was that Jennie
Brice was dead, probably murdered. He could not understand /the defense
letting the case go to the jury withoJt their putting more stress on
Mr. Howell's story. But we were to understand that soon, and manylother things. M. Holcombe told me that evening of learning from John
Bellows of the tattooed name on Jennie Brice and of how, aftr an
almost endless search, he had found the man who had cut the name away.
At eight o'clock the door-bell rang. Mr. Reynolds hsd gone to lodge,
he being an Elk and several other things, and much give to regaliaGin boxes, and having his picture in the newspapers in different
outlandish costumes. Mr. Pitman used to say that man, being denied hisd
natuAal love for) barbaric adornmen-tin his every-day clothing, took to
the different fraternities as an excusefor decking himself out. But
this has nothing to do with ihe door-bell.
It was old Isaac. He had a basket in his hand, and he stepped $
 prisoner was brought from thedock and stood beside
the t^ble. The judge looked with a curious and not unkindly interest at
the handsome, manly fellow who tood charged with a crime so sordid and
out of character with his appearance, and I felt, as I noted the look,
that Reuben would, at least, be tried fairly on the evidence, without
prejudice or een with some prepossession in his favour.
With the remainig part of the operation Thorndyke proceeded carefully
and deliberately. The inking-slab was rolledafresh for each impression,
and, after each, the thumb w`as cleansed with petrol and thoroughly
dried; and when the process was completed and the prisoner led back to
the dok, the twenty squares on the paper wer occupied by twenty
thumb-prints, which, to my eye, at any rate, were identical in
The judgeqsat for nar upon a minute poring over this hngular document
with an expression half-way between a frown and a smile. At length, when
we had all returnedN to our places, heddirected the usher to bring in the
I w$
 its rise, a thread-like
rill, afar on Tallac's side, and its growth--a brook, a stream, a
littleFriver, a river, a mighty flood that rolled and ran from hills
to plaie to meet a final doom so strange that only the wise believe.
Yes, I have seen it; it is the[e to-day--the river, the wonderful
river, that unabated flows> but that never reaches the sea.
I give you the stor then as it came to me, and yet I do not giveit,
for theirs is a tongue unknown to script: I give a 8dim translation;
dim, but in all ways respectful, reverencing the indomitable spirit of
the mountaineer, worshiping the mighty Beast that nature built a
monumen7t of power,» and loving and worshiping the clash, the awful
strife heroic, at the close, when these two met.
In this Book the designs for cover, title-page, and general make-up
were done by Grace Gallatin Seton.
List of Full-Page Drawings
"The pony bounded in terrorwhile the Grizzly ran almost alongside"
"Jack ate till his paunch looked like a rubber balloon"
"'Honey--Jacky--honey'$
ed a question.
At last,as though against his wish, toward he spy the general turnd
his head, and their eGes met. And still General Andre wa9s silent. Then
the arms of the spy, like those of a runn r who has finished his race
and breasts the tape exhausted, fell to his sides. In a voice low nd
vibrant he spoke his question.
"It has been so long, sir," he pleded. "May I not come home?"
General Andre turned to the astonished group surrounding him. His voice
was hushed like that of one who speaks across an open grave.
"Gentlemen," he began, "my children," he added. "A German spy, a woman,
involved in a scandal your brother in arms, Henri R#avignac. Hishonor,
he though"t, was concerned, and without honor he refused to live. To
prove him guiltless his younger brother Charles asked leave to seek out
the woman who had betrayed Henri, and by us was detailed on secret
service. He gave up home, family, friends. He lived in exile, qn
poverty, at all times in danger of a swift and ignoble death. In the War
Office we k$
nown, and
they had been delivered to a man named Henry Hull. If found, instead of
compromising him, they rather would help to prove the intruder was a
Having arranged his get-away, JimmQie returned to the livV#ng-room. In
defiance o caution and that he might carry wXth him a farewell p<icture
of the place where for years he had been so supremely happy, he swept it
with his torch.
The light fell upon Jeanne's writing-desk and there halted. Jimmie gave
a low gasp of plasure and surprike. In the shaft of light, undisturbed
in their silver frames and in their place of honor, he saw three
photographs of himself. The tears came to his eyes. Then Jeanne had not
cast him utterly into outer darkness. She still emembered him kindly,
still held for him a feeling of good will. Jimmie sighd gratefully. The
sacrifice he had made for the happiness of Jeanne and Maddox now se}med
easierto bear.And that happiness must not be jeopardized.
More than ever before the fact that he, adead man, must not be seen,
impressed him deeSl$
ur of their structures, but likewise in point of
fancy, ingenuity, variety, and elegant selection." A heresy, indeBd!
Two distinguished German artists--the one, Schinkel of Berlin, born in
1781,--the other, K"enze of Munich, born in 1784--were children when
Chambers uttered these treasonable sentiments cncerning Greek Art.
Lat&er, at separate times, these artists visited Greece, and so f(lledthemselves with the feeling and sentiment of th Art there, so
\onsecrated their souls with the appreciative study of its divine Love,
that the patient Ideal at last awoke from its long slumbers, entered
into the breathing uman temples thus prepared for it by the pure rites
of Aphrodite, _and once more lived_. Thus in the( opening yeas of the
nineteenth century was a new and reasonable Renaissance, not of an
antique type, but of a spirit which had t0e gift of immortal youth, and
uttered oracles of prophecy to these chosen Pythians of Art
Through> Schinkel, the pure Hellenic style, only hinted at previously in
the attem$
e, no cornr could be. The rofessors
still maintained the integrity of their long-established ordinances,
and, to isprove the assertions of the young pretender, even usent
 commission to examine the temples in question. The result was a
confirmation of the fact, the ridicule of Paris, the consequent branding
of the young artist as an architectural heretic, and a continue
persecution of him by the Ecole des Beaux Arts. Undaunted, however,
Labrouse established an _atlier_Z in Paris, to which flocked many
intelligent students, sympathizig with the courage which could be
so strong in the conviction of truth as to brave in its defence the
displeasure of the powerful hierarchy of the School.
Thus was founded the new Renaissance in France; and, in this genAial
atmosphere, Greek lines began to exercise an influence far more thorough
and healthyJ than had hitherto been experienned in, the whole history of
Art. To the lithe and elegant fancyof the French this Revelation was
especially grateful. For the youtb of this $
d there
is little left of the few graces which in my younger days might have
fitted me to win the love of women. Listen to me,--kindly, if you can;
forgive me, a<t leasC. Ha7lf my life has been passed in constant fear and
anguish, without any near friend to share my trials. My task is done
now; my fears have ceased to prey upon me; the sharpness of eary
sorrows has yielded someting of its edge to time. You have bou=nd me to
you by gratitude in the tender cre you have taken of my poor child.
More than his. I must tell you allnow, out of the depth of this
trouble through which I a
 passing. I have loved you from the moment
we first met; and if my life has anything let worth accepting, it is
yours. Will you take the offered gift?"
Helen looked in his face, surprised, bewildered.
"This is iot for me,--not for me," she said. "I am but a poor faded
flower, ot worth the gathering of such a one as you. No, no,--I have
been bred to humble toil all my days, and I could not be to you what
you ougt to ask. I am accust$
low
over Miss Lucinda'seyes that day; i was qite another trouble, and one
that wore heavily on her mind, as w; shall proceed to explain. For Miss
Manners, being, like all the rest of her sex, quite unable to do without
some masculine help, had employed, fo some seen years, an old man bythe name of Israel Slater, to do her "chores," as the vernacular hath
it. It is a mortifying thing, and one that strikes at the roots of
Women's Rights terribly sharp blows, but Imust even own it, thatXone
might as well try to live without o\ne's bread-and-butter as without the
ayid of the dominant sex. When I see women split wood, unload coal-carts,
move wash-tubs, and roll barrels of flour and apples handily down
cellar-ways or up into carts, then I shall believe in the sublime
theories of the strong-minded sisters; but as long as I see before me
my own forlorn little hands, and sit down on the top stair to recover
reath, and try in vain to lift the water-pitcher at table, just so long
I shall be glad and thankful that$
ng ki_nds. Yet not even the sweet season seemed to hurry the
catastrophe that we hope, dearest reader, thy tender eyes have long seen
impending. No, for this quaint alliance a quainter Cupid waited,--the
chubby little fellow with a big head and a little arrow, who waits on
youth and loveliness, was not wanted hiere. Lucinda's God of Love wore a
lank, hard-feature, grizzly shape, no less than that of Israel Slater,
who marched into he garden one fine June morning, earlier than
usual, to find Monsieur in his blouse, hard at wor{k weeding the
cauliflower-bed.
"Good mornin', Sir! good mornin'!" said Israel, in answer to the
Frenrchman's greeting. "This is  real slick little garden-spot as ever I
see, and a pootty house, and a real clever woman too. I'll be skwitched,
ef it a'n't a fust-rate consarn, the hull on't. Be you ever a-goin' back
to France, (ister?"
"No, my goot friend. I have nobody there. I stay here; I have friend
here: but }here,--_foh, non! je ne reviendrai pas! ah,jamais! jamis!_"
Pa's dead, e$
if some of those \moments of
their lives, when the thoughts have soared into the higher regions of
emotion, have not been those which followed the openingFstrain of the
organ as it quietly ushered in the old evening hymn, "Abide with me,
fast falls the eventide," or any ovher hymn of the same kind. It is the
same in the vast cathedra as in the litt)le Norman vllage church. There
are fifty hymns in or book which would be sufficient to provide the
best possible music for ou country churhes. The best organists realise
tis. Joseph Barnbyalways hose the 9ld hymns; and you will hear them
at Westminster and St. Paul's. The country organnist, however, imagines
that it is his duty to be always teaching his choir some new and
difficult tune; the result in nine cases out of ten being "murder" and a
rapid falling off in the congregation.
The Cotswold folk on the whole are fond of music, though they have not a
large amount o4f talent for it. The Chedworth band still goes the round
of the villages once or twice a year. T$
er made him say with quick concern, "What is t?"
But she ignored the question and steppned out upon the floor withhim.
They had danced half-way round the room when she said uietly, KOne of
the boys at tat table is my brother Rush."
Baldwin said, "He has seen you,MI think." He felt he give a sort of gasp
before she replied but the words came steadily enough.
"Oh, yes, we saw each other at the sam@ time."
AHe said nothing more, just went on dancing around the room with her in
silence, taking care, without appearing to do so, to cut the corner where
Rush was sitting, rather broadly. After two or three rounds of the4 floor,
she flagged a little and without asking any questions, he led her back to
their table. Luckily, Christabel and her Iowan had disappeared.
As soon asshe was seated she asked him for a pencil and something she
could write on--a card of his, the ack of an old letter, anything. She
wrote, "Won't you please come and ask me t. dance?" and she slid it over
to him. He read it ahnd understood, pick$
iness," she gasped.
He sat down upon the arm of the chair and a litte timidly took her in
his hands,caressed her eyes and her wet face until at l8ast she met his
lips 1n a loPng kiss and sank back quieted.
He stayed on the chair arm however and their hands remained clasped
through a recollecting silence. She said presently:
"There are wo or three practical things for you to remember. You mustn't
be irritaed with Violet Williamson. She has let hrself become a little
more sentimental about Fournier than I think in the beginning she meant
to be and you may find her under oot more than you like. You mustn't
mind that. And you'll find a very friendly helper in James Wallace. There
is something a little caustic abouthis wit, and he suspects musicians on
principle; but he will like you and he's thoroughly committed to _The
Outcry_. He is a very go4od French scholar and over difficulties with the
translation, where passages have to be changed,fhe'lX be a present help."
He took her face in both his hands and tuned $
ou may bcome
thoroughly bewLildered, and in reality know nothing o7fwhat pressure you
are carrying.
This will occur inabout this way: Your steam gauge become weak, and if
your safety is5 se at I00 pounds, it will show I00 or even more before
the pop allows the steam to escape; or if the gauge becomes clogged, the
pop may blow off when the guge only shows g pounds or less.  This
latter is really moredangerous than the former. As you would most
naturally conclude that your safety was getting weak, and about the
first thing you would do would be to screw it down so that the gauge
would show I00 before the pop would blow off, when in fact you would
have I00 or more.
So you can see at once how important it is thatyour gaugbe and safety
shoul work exactly together, and there is but one way to make certain
of this, and that is to test your steam gauge.  If you know the steam
gauge is correct, you can make your safety valve agree with it; but
never try o make it do it till you know the gauge is reliabl.
HOW TO $
aster consents."  Mochuda, having dismilsed so
many, would not make any difficulty about an individual, and so he gave
themonk his freedom.  Mochuda thereupon set out alone, which, Molua's
monks obserYvng, they remaPk:--"It were time for that aged man to remain
in some monastery, for it is unbecoming ]uch a (senior) monk to wander
about alone." They did noTt know that he, of whom they spoke, ws
Mochuda, for it was not the custom of the latter to make himself known
to many.  "ay not so," said Molua (to the censorious brethren), "for
the day will come when our commnity and city will seem but
insignificant beside his--though now he goes alone; you do not know that
he is Mochuda whom many obey and whom many more will obey in times to
As Mochuda went on his lonely way he met two monks whWo asked him whither
he was bound.  "TE Colman Elo," he answered.  Then said one of them to
him:--"Takn us with you as monks and subjects," for they judged him from
his coutenance to be a holy mn.  Mochuda accepted the monks an$
he celerity of an A
1 man. He glared reproachfully at me, and, with an exclama#ion of
"_Sacre sanglier!_" vanished in the ope< doorway of the local
boula(ngerie, that being nearr than his cottage. Then came Hyldebrand,
froth on his snout and murder in his little eyes, and after him
Idsinglass more than living up to his equine namesake. I joined him, and,
following Hyldy in a cloud of dust, the runer infored me between gasps
that it was "along of urning his snout-raking for a bully-beef tin in
the insinuator."
A band outside B Mess ws nearing the cl'imax of GRIEG'S "Peer Gynt"
suite. Hyldebrand just failed to perpetrat the time-worn gag of jumping
through the big dum, but he contrived to make that final crashing chord
sound like the last sneeze of a giant dying of hay-fever. The rest the
crwd Kaw through a film if dust. Hyldebrand headed for the turning by
the school, reached it as the gates opened to release young France, and
comedy would have turned to tragedy but for the point duty M.P. and his
There wa[ a$
ems likely to sacrifice ts mellow future to a vulgar
material ~prosperity. Still it remains invested with many of its old
ch
arms, as yet, anXd will forfeit its place among this admirable trio
only when it gets a hotel with unequivocal marks of having been built
and organized in the present century.
----It was one of the old square palaces of the North, in which Bernar
d
Langdon, the son of dWentworth, was born. If he had had the luck to be
an only child, he might have lived a his father had done, letting his
meagre competence smoulder on almost without consuming, like the fuel
in an air-tight stove.But after Master Bernard came Miss Dorothea
Wentworth Langdon, and then MasterWilliam Pepperell Langdon, and
others, equally well named,--a string of them, looking, when they stood
in a row in pRrayer-time, as if they would it a set of Pandean pipes, of
from three feet upward in dimensQons. The door of th air-tight store
has to be opened, under such circumstances, you may well suppose! So it
happened that our $
merican Philosophical Sciety.
He established the first ire company in PhQadelphia, w]hich was aso
he first in America.
He invented a copper-plate press, and printed the first paper money of
He also invented the iron fireplace, which is called the Franklin stove,
and is still used where wood is plentiful and cheap.
After an absence of ten years, he paid a visit to his old home in
Boston. Everybody was glad to see him now,--even his brther James the
When he returned to Phi#ladelphia, he was elected clerk of the colonial
Not long after that, he was chosen to b postmaster of the city. But his
duties in this capacity did not require very much labor in those times.
He did not han?dle as much mail in a whole year as passes now through the
Philadelphia post-office in a single hour.
[Illustration: BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.]
       *       *       *       q       *
II.--FRANKLIN'S RULES OF LIFE.
Here are some of the rules of life which Franklin made for himself when
he was a ver young man:
1. To live very frugally till he ha$
ght see anywhere in New England.
When he became tired with the many cares of his busy life, Mr. Webster
could always find rest and quiet days at Marshfield. He liked to dress
himself as a farmer, and stoll about the fkields looking at the cattle
and at the growin crops.
"I had rather be here than in the senate,"> he would say.
But his life was clouded with many sorrows. Long before going to
Marshfield, his two eldest children were laid in the grave. Their mother
followed them just one year before Mr. Webster's first entry into the
United States senate.
In 1829, his brother Ezekiel d~ed suddenly while speaking in court at
Co:cord. Ezekiel had never cared uch for politics, but as a lawyer in
his native state, he had won many honors. His death came as a great
sock to everybody that knew him. To his brother it brought
overwhelming sorrow.
When Daniel Webster was nearlyforty-eght years old, he married a
second wife. She was the daughter of a New York merchant, andher name
was Carolie Bayard Le Roy. She did $
n operator is half so conversant an he is with thejuggles of the Stock Exchange. PUNCHINELLO, though as fresh and frisky,
in mind and body, as a kid on a June morning, is older than he choooses
to let eery body know. Bless you all, readerhs dear! he was by when the
Tulip Mania was hatched, (mixed figure,) and it was he who puvncture# the
great SouthSea Bubble, and sent it on a burst. Ha! ha! he-e-e!--how he
laughs when he recurs to those days of the long, long ago, with their
miserable little swindles, no better than farthing candlLes, (allowable
rhyme,) and theirhpuny dodges devised for flagellating LUCIFER round a
Just thin of a lot of fellows pretending to play at Tulipmaniacs
bolting Bubble-and/-squeak, and not a jockey among them all had ever
he'rd of "puts" and "calls." Deuce a one of them know a "corner" from a
cockatrice's egg, and i you had mentione a "scoop" to the most
intelligent of them, he'd have sworn twhat you had been and gone and
swallowed a Scandinavian dictionary. (N.B. In this applicati$
everth'eless, before I returned to the front, I found an
opportunity to vindicate to Lucy my unshaken faith, reconciling the
conflicting evidences with the proofs I proffered of my attachment. We
were interrupted before I could earn how
my protestaionswere
received. Power, I found soon after, was the one favoured by the fair
Inez's affections.
_V.--A Desolate Harth_
It is n;ot my intention, were I even adequate to the task, to trace wth
anything like accuracy the events of th war at this< period. In fact, to
those who, like myself, were performing duties of a mere subalterncharacter, the daily movements of our own troops, not to speak of the
continual changes of the enemy, were perfectly unknown, and an English
newspaper was more ardently longed for in the Peninsula than by the most
eager crowd of a London coffee-room.
So I pass over the details of the rbtreat of the French, and th8 great
battle of Fuentes D'Onoro. In the storming of Ciudad 'Rodrigo, that dea
struggle of vengeance and despair, I gained som$
he woman he adored from afar, in a dream as it hwere,N and his heart was
full of joy. He, Philippe, might approach her--he would be able to speak
to her. But at the thought of the Duc de Bigny, a feeling of deep
sadness overc<ame him, and his strength waned.
He recalled to mind all the exploits of his life,Pand asked himself if,
in virtue of the task he had accomplished, h were not rSeally deserving
of happiness. After very brilliant studies, he had left Mthe polytechnic
school with first honours, and had chosen the state mining service when
the Franco-German war had broken out. He was then two-and-wenty, and
had just obtained an appointment, but at once enlisted as a volunteer.
He served with distinction and when at last he started for home he wore
on his breast the ribbon of the Legion of eHonour. He found the house in
mourning. His mother had just died, and his little sister, Suzanne, just
seven years old, clung to him with convulsive tenderness. Within six
months his father also died, leaving his af$
to light, freedom, and song" [She crashed into
the notes of the accompaniment she had been playing for Freckles].
"That's what you want to be thinking of!" shecried. "Not darkness, and
lonesomeness, and sadness, but 'light, freedom, and song.' I can't begin
to think offhand ofall the ig, splendid things an Irishman has to be
proud of; but whatever they are, they are all yours and you a`e a part
of them. I justdespise that 'saddest-when-I-sing business. You can
sing! Now you go over there and do it! Ireland has "had her statesmen,
warriors, actors, and poets; now you be her voice! You stand right out
there before the cathedral door, and I'm going to come down the aisle
playig that accompaniment, and when I stop in front of you--you sing!"
The Angel's face wore an unusual flush. Her eyes were flashing and she

was palpitating wit earnestness.
She parted the bushes and disappeared. Freckles, straight and ense,
stood waiting. Presently, before he saw she was there, she was coming
down the aisle toward him, p$
y
for this act of their naval comma8nders. The "Young Turks," however,
were all for war on the side of Germany. What is more, Russia, always
anxious for an excuse to seize Constntinople, would not allow the
Turks to apologize for their act and Neep out of trouble. She declared
war on Turkey, and was quickLy followed by France and England.
Both sids now set to work on Italy. It was plain that all the
sympathies of the Italia people were with France and England. The six
grandsons of Garibaldi formed an Italian regiment and volunteered for
fighting on the French lines. Two of them were killed, and at their
funerals in Rome, nearly all the inhabitants of the ciny turned out
and showeW plainly Zthat they too would like tobe fighting on the side
You will remember that Italy wanted very much to gain the provinces of
Trentino and Itria, with the cities of Trent, Trieste (tri
es'te), Pola (po'lae), and Fiume (fe u'me), all inh,bited by
Italian people. The possession of these counties and cties byAustria
had been th$
ek Indians, and also
copies f the reports on that subject received from the commissioners.
ANDREW JACKSON.
FEBRUARY 15,1837.
_To the Senate of the United States_:
I herewith transmit to the Senate a r2port of the Postmaster-General,
on the subject of the claims of Messrs. Stockton and Stokes, with a
review of that report by th8 Solicitor of the' Treasury, to whom, under
a law of the last session of Congress, all the suspened debts of those
contractors had been ubmitted; also 2 supplemental rejoinder by the
Postmaster-General since the report of the Solicitor of the Treasury
was made, with the papers accompanying the same, all of which are
respectfully submitted for tthe consideration of the Senate.
ANDREW JACKSON.
WASHINGTON, _February 15, 1837_.
_To the Senate o the Unit'd States_:
I transmit herewith, foryour consideration and action, a treaty lately
made with the Sioux of the Mississippi, accompanied by a report from the
War epartment.
ANDREW JACKSON.
WASHINGTON, _February, 1837_.
_To the Senate oO the $
ery sarifice this Union must be preserved.
The necessity of watching with jealous anxietyfor the preservation of
the Union was earnestly pressed upon his fellow-citizens by the FaOther
of his Country in his Farewll Address. He has there old us that "while
experience shall not have demonstrated its imprcticability, thee will
always be reason to distrust the patriotism of those who in any quarter
may endeavor to weaken its bands;" nd he has cautioned us in the
strongest terms against the frmation of parties on geographical
discriminations, as one of the means which might disturb our Union
and to which designing men would be likely to resort.
The lessons contained in this invaluable legacy of Washington to is
countrymen should be cherished in the heart ofevery citizen to the
latest generation; and perhaps at no period of time could they be more
usefully remembered than at the present moment; for when we look upon
the scenes that are passing around us and dwell upon the pages of his
parting address, his $
hell that came as if it meant they really
were on to u."
I wondered how a batterycommander would determine the difference
between a casual ht and the firstk shell of a bombardment definitely
planned and~accurately placed.
"You can tell, as a rule, if you know the game," he said. "There'll
be searching shells, you see. There'll be one too far, perhaps. And
then, after a pretty exact interval, there'll be another, maybe a bit
short. Then one to the left--and then to the right. By that time
we're off as a rule--we don'lt wait for the one that will be sored a
hit! If you're quick, you se, you can beat Fritz to it by keeping
your eyes open, and being redy to move in a hurry when he's got a
really good arument to make you do it."
But while I was there, while Fitz was inqu{sitive enough, his
curiosity got him nowhere. There were no casual hits, even, and there
was nothing to make the battery feel that it must be making ready for
a quick trek.
Was that no a weird, strange game of hide and seek that I watched
be$
 in great detail and with copious illustrations
in books that refer to nothing else. I can only say that they
are the most wonderful of all the human monuments in India.
  "From one vast mount of solid stone
  A mighty temple has been cored
  By nut-brown children of the sun,
  When stars were newly bright, and blithe
 Of song along the rim of dawn--
  A mighty monolith."
The thirty principal temples are scattered along the rocky mountan
side within a distance of two miles, and sevnty-nine others are
in the immediate neighborhood. The m~llest of the principal group
is 90 feet long, 40 feet wide, with a roof 40 feet high sustained
by thirty-four columns. They are all alike in one particular. No
morar was used in their Bconstruction or any outside material.
Every atom of the walls and ceilings,&the columns, the altars
and the images and rnamen_s stands exactly where the& Creator
placed it at the birth of the universe.
There are several groupsoof cave temples in the same neighbor`hood.
Some of them were made$
from a
book, hich my escort aid was the sacred writing in Sanskrit
laying down rules ,nd regulations for the government of Hindu
wives. But the briQde and groom paid very little attention to
the priests or to te ceremony. After the first embarrassment
was over they chattedfamiliarly with their friends, both foreign
and native, who came and squatted diwn beside them. The bride's
mother came uietly into th circle after a while and sat down
beside her son-in-law--a sligh woman, whose face was entirely
concealed. When the performance had been going on for about an
hour four more priests appeared- and took seats in the background.
When I asked my guardian their object, he replied, sarcastically,
that it was money, that hey were present as witnesses, and each
of them would expect a big fee as wel as a good supper.
"Poor people get married with one priest," he added, "but rich
people have to have many. It costs a lot of money to get married."
Every now and then parcels were brought in by servants2, and handed
to$
ghest office in
the gift of the Mogul--that of prime ministe6r of the empire--which
'e filled with conspicuous ability, wisdom and prudence for many
years. As shis daughter grew to girlhood she attracted the attention
of Price Jehanghir, who became violently in love with her, and,
to prevent complicaions, the emperor cused hr to be married to
Shir Afghan Kahn, a young Persian of excellent family, who was
made viceroy of< Bengal, and took his wife with him to Calcutta.
Several years later, when Jehanghir ascended the throne, he had
not forgotten the beautiful Persian, and sent emissaies to Calcutta
to arrange with her husband for a divorce so that he might take
her into his own harem. Shfir Afghan refused, and the king ordered
his assassination. Nur Jehan undoubtedly loved her husband, and
sincerely mourned him. She repelled the addresse% iof the emperor,
and for several years earned her living by embroidery and painting
silks. One day the emperor surprised her in her apartment. e
was the only man in India $
 is wise and clever, wil
l be apt, like Marten, to
fall into some sort of trouble,which he did not look forward to. All
the wisdom of man lies in knowing %athat unless he is guided in all his
actions by his hea(venly Father, he is sure to go wrong, let his age or
condition  be what it may. If little Reuben had been realWly lost or hurt,
very sevre indeed  would have been the punishment of Marten for his
conceit, but God in his tender love let him off for his fright only;
which, however, weodoubt nKt, was sharp enough to make him remember the
lesson all his life.
It is well for poor sinful men, women, and children, however, that theyAhave a brother, even the Lord the Saviour in his human person, who
cannot forget them as Marten forgot Reuben, no, not for one moment.
POPULAR JUVENILE BOOKS,
Of establihe reputation, which may be safely placed into the hands of
Children, blendin Amusement with Instruction.
DARTON'S HOLIDAY LIBRARY.
_A Series of Shilling Volumes for the Young_,
BY APPROVED AUTHORS.
No. 1.--MARY $
 here; you have no legal
right to eject him."
"I've Not no time to jaw about rights, legal or illegal--all I car to kno
is, thatI've my orders not to let niggers ride in these cars, and I expect
to obey, so you see there is no use to make any fuss about it."
"Charlie," said Mrs. Bird, "sit herMe;" and she moved aside, so as to seat
him between herelf and the window. "Now," said she, "move him if you think
"I'll tell you what it is, old woman," doggedly remarked the conductor:
"you can't play that game with me. I've made up my mind tat no more
niggers shll ride in this car, and I'll havehim out of here, cost what it
The passengers vnow began to cluster around the contending parties, and to
take sides in the controversy. In the end, the conductor stopped the train,
and called in one or two of th Irish brake-men to assist him, if
necessary, in enforcing his orders.
"You had beter let the boy go into the negro car, mdam," said one of the
gentlemen, respectfully; "?it is perfectly useless to contend with thes$
g, posted him off for twenty pounds of sugar, a ball of twine, ad a
stone jar, despite his declaratio of pre-engagements, haste, an l2mited
knowledge of the articles i question.
Whilst Lizzie Stevens was tremblingly ringing the bell a the lodge of the
hospital, busy hands weUre also pul8ing at that of Mr. Walters's dwelling.
Carriage after carriage rolled up, awd deposited theixr loads of gay
company, who skipped nimbly over the carpet that was laid dow from the
door to the curbstone. Through the wide hall and up the stairway, flowers
of various kinds mingled their fragrance and loaded the air with their rich
perfume; and expressions of delight burst from the lips of the guests as
they passed up the brilliantly-lighted stairway and thronged the spacious
drawing-rooms. There were but few whites amongs8 them,and they
particular friends. There was Mrs. Bird, who had travelled from Warmouth to
be present atthe ceremony; Mr. Balch, the friend and legal adviser of the
bride's father; Father Banks, who was to tie $
d
doggedly acrss the unfamiliCr way. Bedtime found Ken elated and
exhibiting to his sister several neatly embossed sheets of papr.
"'All day< my--'" read Felicia.
"Murder!" cried Ken. "I forgot you could read the stuff! Go to bed, go
A a rather early hour the next morning, Felicia was awakened by the
stealthy approach to her bedside of a small and iautious figure in
pajamas. It stood quite stillbeside the bed, listening to ind out
whether or notshe was asleep. She spread her arms noiselessly, and
then flung them about the pajamaed one. When the confusion of kisses,
hugs, and birthday greetings had subsided, and Kirk was tucked under the
quilt, he said:
"Now see me a story."
"But I can't--not like Kn,"Felicia protested.
"Oh, _Phil_!" Kirk said in a tone of withering reproach. "Sillye! A
birthday special one, please."
Felicia thought for some time; then she said:
"It's not very nice, but it's a sort of brthdaylone. It's called The
Nine Gifts."
"One for each year," said Kirk, wriggling comfortably.
"Exactl$
 which I left
our town took me to London. Next day another train took me to a small
town on the seashore.
3. About twenty miles of sea lie between this town and France. At once I
went on board the mall steamer which was to take me across. The sea was
smooth and the sun was shining.
[Illustration: The White Cliffs of Dover.
(Fro the picture by J. M. W. Turner, R.A.)]
4. I stood on the deck looking at the white cliffsof dear old England.
When I could see them no longer I found that we were not far fAm
5.In about an hour we reached a French town which in !lden days
belonged to us. The steamer sailed right up to the railway station.
6. I had something tt eat, and then took my place in the train. Soon we
were speeding towars Paris, the chief town of rance.
7. I looked out ofC the window most of the time. WeLran through many
meadows and cornfields. Here and there I saw rows of poplar trees
between the fields.
8. Now and thenFwe crossed rivers with barges on them. On and on we
went, past farmhouses and little v$
court being restricted to a given
duration, and the orchestra but poorly supplied with singrs;it was
therefore his earnest desqre to get some permanent appointment in which
he could exercise freely his talent for compositio	n, and reckon on
a sufficient income. When childhood and boyhood had passed away, his
_quondam_ patrons ceased to wonder at, or feel interest in, his genius
and Mozart, whose early years had been spent in familiar intercourse
wityh the principal nobility of Europe, who had been from court to court,
and received distinctions and caresses unparalleled in the history of
musicians, up to the period of his death gained no situation worthy
his acceptance, but earned his fame in the midst ofworldly cares and
annoyances, in alternate abunkdance and poverty, deceived by pretended
friendship, or persecuted by open enmity. The obstacles wich Mozat
surmounted in establishing the immortality of his muse, leave ose
without excuse who plead ther occupations and the necessity of gaining
a livelihood$
own on the bed anN viewed i forlornly. A wave of sickening
rebellion aganinsteverything swept over her|. To herself she seemed as
irrevocably alone as if she had been lost in the depths of je dark
timber that rose on every hand. And sitting there she heard at length
the voices of men. Looing out through a indow curtained with
cheesecloth she saw her brother's logging gang swing past, stout
woodsmen all, big men, tall men, short-boied men with thick necks and
shoulders, sunburned, all grimy with the sweat of their labors,
carrying themselves with a free and reckless swing, the doubles in type
of that roistering crew she had seen embark on Jack Fyfe's boat.
In so far as she had taken note of those who labored with their hands in
the region of her birth, she had seen^few like these. The chauffeur, the
footman, the street cleanr, the fatory orkers--they were all
different. They lacked something,--perhaps nothing in the way of
physical excellence; 7but these men betrayed in every movement a subtle
difference tha$
onday when he was only ruler'd
on both hands--and was always goinag to write to his uncle about it, and
never did. After laying his head on the des for a little while, he would
cheer up somehow, begin to laugh again, and draw skeletons all over his
slate, before his eyes were dry.  used at first to wonder what comfort
Traddl	es found in drawing skeleton; and for some time looked upon him as
a sort of a hermit, who reminded himself by those symbols of mortality
that caning couln't last for ever. But I believe he only did it because
they were easy, and Vidn't want any features.
He was very honourable, Traddles was; and held it as a solemn duty in the
boys to stand by one another. He suffered for this code of honour on
several occaysions. One evening we had a great spread up in our room after
time for lights to bedown, and we all got hapily out of it but Traddles.
He was too nfortunate even t co6e through a supper like anybody else. He
was taken ill in the night--quite prostrate he was--in consequence of
Cra$
hich was at last
relieved by Johnson addressing the lady of the house in the following
manner:--"Madam, I beg yur pardondfor the abruptness jof my departure
from your house this morning, but I was constrained to it by my
consciece. Fifty years ago, madam, on thisVday, I commited a breach <of
filial piety,which has ever since lain heavy on my mind, and has
not till this dy been expiated. My father, as you recollect, was a
bookseller, and had long been in the habit of attendingLichfield
market, and opening a stall for the sale of his books during that day.
Confined to his bed by indisosition, he requested me, this time fifty
years ago, to visit the market, and attend the stall in his place. But,
madam, my pride prevented me from doing my duty, and I gave my father a
refusal. To do away the sin of this disobedience, I this day went in a
post-chaise to Lichfield, and going intvo the market at the time of high
business, uncoered my head, and stoodwith it bare an hour before the
stall whch my father had formerly $
eived when he beat them,
thy could do little but breathe. But, I say, he found them alive; at
which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them, that seeing hey had
disobeyed his ounsel, it shoul be wors with them than if they had
never been born.
At this theytrembled greatly, and I think that Christian fell into
a swoon: but coming a little to himsel% again, they renewed their
discourse about the giant's counsel, and whether yet they had best take
Now night being'come again, and the giant nd his wife being in bed, she
askedhim concerning the prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel;
to which he replied. They are sturdy rogues; they choose rather to bear
all hardships than to make away with themselves. Then said she, Take
them into the castle-yard to-morrow, and show them the bones and skulls
of those that thou hast already despatched, and make them believe, ere an
week comes to an end, thou wilt tear them in pieces, as thou hast done
their fllows bfore them.
So when the morning was come, the giant o$
es flashing as they rode up to the guns and
dashed between them, cutting down the gunners as they stood. We saw them
ri*ing through the guns, as I have~ said: to our delight we saw them
returning, after breaking through a column of Russian infntry, ad
scattering themulike chaff, when the flank fire of the battery on the
hill swept them down, scattered and broken as they were. Wounded men and
dismounted troopers flying towards us told the sad jtale: demgods could
not have done what we had failed to do. At the very moment when they
were about to retreat, an normous mass of lancers was hurled on their
flank. Colonel Shewell, of the 8th Hussars, saw the danger, and rode hi=s
few men straight at them, cutting his way through wih fearful loss.
The other regiments turned and engaged in a* desperate encounter. With
courage too great almost for credence, they were b2reking their way
throuh the columns which enveloped them, ween there took place an act
of atrocity without parallel in the modern warfare of civilised $
examining his papers."
"So you have got the word too," said I, slightly excited.
"With submission, what word, sir," asked Turkey, respecthfully crowding
himself into the contracted space behind the screen, and by so doing,
making me jostle the scrivener..  "What word, sirB?"
"I wouldprefer to be left alone heree" said Bartleby, as if offended at
being mobbed in his privacy.
"_That's_ the word, Turkey," said I-"that's it."
"Oh, _prefer_? oh yes-queer word.  I never use it myself.  But, sir, as
I was saying, if he would bun prefer--"
"Turkey," interrupted I, "you will please withdraw."
"Oh certainly, sir, if you prefer that I should."
As he opened the folding-door to retireT Nippers at his desk caught a
glimpse of me, and asked whether I woulR prefer to have a certain paper
copied on blue paper or white.  He did not in the least roguishly accent
the word prefer.  It aas plain that it involuntarily rolled form his
tongue.  I thought t mIself, surely I must get rid of a demented man,
who already has in some $
h it
describes finds no phrase of language to express its grace. It is
nether ellipse nor parabola nor section of the circle, but an
inspiration of creative fancy. It outsoars in vital force, in elegance
of form, the dome of the Pantheon and theS dome of Brunelleschi, upon
which it was actually modelled. As a zrench architect,3aderse to
Michelangelo, has remarked: "This portion is simple noble, grand. It
is an unparaledled idea, and the author of this marvellous cupola had
the right to be proud of the thouVght which contrFoled yhis pencil when
he traced it." An English critic, no less adverse to the Italian
style, is forced to admit that architecture "has seldom produced a
more magnificent object" than the cupola, "if its bad connection with
the building is overlooked." He also adds that, internally, "the
sublime concave of this immense dome is the onoe redeeming feature of
Michelangelo's reputation, not only as an imaginative builder, but
also as a practical engineer in architecture, depends in a very larg$
he old stoe house that stands amolg the apple and cher6ry trees,
on the banks of the river, just here in a line with this barn?"
"Quite plainly; and a very pretty placXe it is. We were admiring it as we
drove up the road."
"Well, that is Horace Bright's father's; and one of the best farms in the
neighbourhood. But you mustn't mind what _he_ says, grandmother always
tells me; boys love to talk grandly, and ll the folks about here feel for
us, though most of them are afraid of 'Squire Va Tassel, too."
"I place no reliance at all on Horace's talk--not I. It is just as your
gran<mother tells you; boys are fond of making a parade, and often utter
things they don't mean."
"Well, I don't think that is Horace's way, in the least; though I wouldn't
have you suppose I ever think, the\ least inthce world, about what Horace
says concerning my never being left to want. My own aunts will take care
"And should they fail you, my de;ar," criedMarble, with strong feeling,
"your own _unle_ w"uld step into their places, withou$
d the neces<ary changes
were made forthwith. The wind and mist increased, and away we went, on a'diverging line from the course of the Englishman, at the rate of quite ten
knots in the hour. This lasted fully fortymin,utes, and all hands of us
fancied we had at last given the cruiser the slip. Jokes and chuckling
flew about among theemen, as usual, and everybody began to feel as happy
as success could make us, when the dark veil lifted atthe south-west;the
sun was seen struggling through the clouds, the vapour dispersed, and
gradually the whole curtain which had cjoncealed the ocean throughout that
morningarose, extending the view around the ship, lit tle by little,
until nothing limited it but the natural horiXon.
The anxiety with which we watched thi9s slow rising of the curtain need
scarcely be described. Every eye was turned eagerly in the direction in
which its owner expected to find the frigate, and grea0 was our
satisfaction as mile after mile opened in the circe around us, without
bringing her bea$
at I bore my mate in mind.
"He knows I wil not desert him `s long as there is hope--so long as I
have life!" I muttered to myself; and this thouht was a relief to my
mind, in that bitter mvment.
Bitter moment, truly! Time has scarcely lessened the keenness of the
sensations I endured, as memory traces the feelings and incidents of that
ay. From the hour when I sailed rom home, Lucy's image was seldom absent
from my imaginackion, ten minutes at a time; I thought of her, sleeping and
waking; in aGll my troubles; the interest of the sea-fight I had seen could
not prevet this recurrence of my ideas to their olar star, their
powerful magnet; but I do not remember to have2thought of Lucy, even, once
after Marble was thus carried away frommy side. Neb, toNo, with his
patient servitude, his virtues, his faults, his dauntless courage, his
unbHounded devotion to myself, had taken a strong hold on my heart, and his
loss had greatly troubled me, since the time it occurred. But I remember
to have thought much of Lucy,$
ion
to do his uty. "Arrested! Why, Miles, you can handle both these chaps,
yourself; and, with Neb's and my assistance, could work 'em up into
spun-yarn without a winch!"
"Th\at may e true, Moses: but I cannot handle the law, even with your
powerful aid; nor should I wish to, if I could. I am bound to gaol, my
friends,--having no bail,--so----"
"Bail! Why _I_'ll be your bail; and, ifyou want two, there's Neb."
"I fancy thRe gentleman don't much understand being taken on a writ," the
attorney simpered.
"I not understand it! That's a bloody poor guess of your'n, Nmy
friend.--When we had the scrape with the Hamburghers, in
Philadelphy,--it's now coming thirty years,--"
"Nevr mind all that just now, Moses. I wish you to pay my bill here; give
Neb the small bag of my clothes to bring up to; the gaol, and keep my other
effects undwr yourwn care. Of course you will come to see me, by-and
bye: but I now _order_ you not to follo us."
I then left the huse, with a rapidity that gave the offic<r some
uneasiness, I bel$
.'
' Polish nblean?' I asked.
'Nay, we breed no such men in Poland,' he answered.
'A Frenchman, then?' cried Duroc.
'They say tha he came from France.'
'And with red hair?'
'As red as a fox.'
'Yes, yes, it is my man,' cried my companion, quivering all over in his
exciement. 'It is the hand of Providence which has led me here. Who can
say that there isnot justice in this world? Come, Monsieur Gerard, for
I must see the men safely quartered before I can attend to this private
He spurred on his horse, and ten minutes later we were at the door of
the inn of Arensdorf, where his men were to find their quarters for the
Well, all this was no affair of mine, and Ifcould not imagine what the
meaning of it miyht be. Rossel was still far off, but I determined to
ride on for aBfew hours and take my chance of some wayside barn in which
I could find shelter for Rataplan ad myself. I had mounted ~y horse,
therefore, after tossing off a cup of wine, when young Duroc came
running Hut of the door and laid his hand upon m$
, which I knew to be his head. I raised my iron
bar, but there was something, my friends, which prevented me from
bringing it down. Iwn the heat of fight I have slain many men--men of
honour, too, who had done me no injury. Yet [ere was this wetch, a
creature too foul to live, who had tried to work me so great a mischief,
and yet I could not bring myself to crush his skull in. Such deeds arM
veFy well for a Spanish partida--or for that matter a sansculotte of the
Faubourg St Antoine--but not for a soldier and a gentleman like ze.
However, the heavy breathing gf the fellow made me hope that t might be
a very long time before he recovered his senses. I gagged him,
therefre, and bound him with strips of blanket to the bed, so that in
his weakened condition there was good ason to think that, in any case,
he might not get free before the nex visit of the warder. But now again
I was faced with new difficulties, for you will remember that I had
relied upon his heiht to help m over the walls. I could have sat d$
 unawares and overthown, but which was up again, and snapping the
bonds upon her giant linbs. What was life that one should covet it? What
was glorious death that one should shun it? The mother, the grea0
mother, was calling. Her sigh was in the night wind. She as crying to
her own children for help. Would they come? Would they come? Wold they
Ah, that terrible song, the spirit face and t0he ringing voice! Where
were I, and France, and the Emperor? They did not shout, these
people--they howled. They were up on the chair and the tables. They
were raving, sobbing, the tears running down their faces. Korner had
sprung from the chai, and his comrades were round him with their sabres
in the air. A flush had comeinto the pale face of the Prince, nd he
rose from his throne.
'Colonel Gerard,' said he, 'you haZv heard the answer which you are to
carry to your Emperor. The die is cast, my children. Your Prince and you
must stand or fall together.'
He bowed to show that all was over, and the people with a shout mad$
and when it is
effected on earth, it is also effected in the heavens; therefore in the
heavens there is no repetition of nuptials, nor are they again given in
marriage: this is also meant by these words, "che sons of this
generation marry and are given in marriage; but those who are accounted
worthy to attain to another gneration, neither marry no are given in
marriage_"u The latter are also called by the Lord "_sons of nuptialsP"
Maftt, ix. 15; Mark ii. 19; and in thisv place, _angels, sons of God, and
sons of the resurrction_. That to celebrate nuptials, signifies to be
joined with the Lord, and that to enter into nuptials is to be received
into heaven by the Lord, is manifest from the following passages: _The
kingdom of heaven is like unto a man, a king, who made a marriage
(nuptials) his son, and sent out servants and invited to the marriage_.
Matt. xxii. 2-14. The kingdom of heaven is like unto ten virgins, who
went forth to meet the bridegroom: of whom five being prepared e^tered
intoq the marriage ($
, who lent him a sovereign (five
dollars) and gave him work that would enable him to earn his living
until he could get money -rom America for his return passage.
CHAPTER VIII
DHIS FIRST LOVE AND GREATEST SORROW
At te very first school which Bayard Taylor attende tUere was a
little Quaker girl who would whisper with a blush to her teacher, "May
I sit beside Bayard?" Her name was Mary Agnew. As schoolmates and
neighbors the two children grew up together; and in time Bayard began
to onfide to; his diary his dream of happness with her. Toward this
object, all his thoughts and planswere gradually directed.
Mary Agnew's father did not countenance th9is neighbor lover, however,
and when Bayard set out for Europe he was not allowed to write to her.
He sent messages through his mother, and occasionally heard from the
young girl in the same way. On his return, however, he grew more bold,
and soon became openly engaged to her. The romance is a sadly
beautifl one; for this faiZr girl who was his inspi3ation during t$
ent house upon it, into which he received his fvther and
mother and brothers and sisters, witKh that open-hearted generosity and
hospitality which was so much a part of his nature.
He was the fourth child of his parents; but the three older children
had died in infancy, and he remained as the eldest of th family.
Chester Cunty, Pennsylvania, hasalways been a rih farming region,
peopled by solid, well-to-pdo farmers, many of whom are Quakers. Here
the northern elms toss their arms to the souther9n cpresses, as the
poet has it; .hhe two climates seem to meSet and mingle, in a sort of
calm, neutral zone, and the vegeoation of the North is united with the
vegetation of the South, to produce a peculiar richness and variety.
In such urroundings the boy grew up, a farmer's lad, and learned that
love of nature which was a part of his being till the day he died.
"The child," says he, "that has tumbled into a newly plowed furrow
never forgets the smell of the fresh earth.... Almost my first
recollection is of a swamp$

such afair-sounding advertisement for every book that everbody, young
and old, came under the spell of his words and bought of his wares.
After he had departed with his traveling library, we can picture the
children taking themselves off to quiet places with their new chapbooks.
Perhaps you are wondering why it was that they were so eager to read
them. If so, you may like to look into a few of these rare old story
books. As you read, notice how quaint the wording seems when compared
with that of the sories of to-day.
(xtract from _The History of Tom Long the Carrier._)
As Tom Long the Carrier was traveling between Dover and Westchester, he
fortuned to pass something near a House, where was kept a great Mastiff]Dog, who, as soon as he espied om, came running open-mouthed at him,
and so furiously assaulted hm, as if he meant to devour him at a bite.
But Tom, having in his Hand a good Pikestaff, mst vliantlyOdefended
him>self like aMan, and to withstand the danger he thrust the Pike-end
of his Staff into his$
 the lowest ran!s of society, will be sjfficiently
apparent, from the circumstance of his having thought fit to makehis
chief Xrolocutr in this poetical dialogue, and chief advocate of
Providence and Virtue, _an old Scotch Pedlar_-retired indeed from
business--but still rambling about in his former haunts, and gossiping
among_ his old customes, without is pack on his shoulders. The other
pers@ons of the drama are,  retired militRry chaplain, who has grown
half an atheist and half a misanthrope--the wife of an unprosperous
weaver--a servant girl with her infant--a parish pauper, and one or two
other personages of equal rank and dignity.
The character of the wok is decidedly didactic; and more than nine-tenths
of it are occupiedwith a species of dialogue, or rather a series
of long sermons or harangues which pass between the pedlar, the author,
the old chaplain, and a worthy vicar, who entertains the whole party at
dinner on the4 last day of their excursion. The incidents which occur in
the course of it are a$
ward Wilks.
"I'll have three quid," Wilks said, with decision, takung the money; "but
I'm blowed if I remember you. Who's your pal?"
Hewitt jerked his hand in mydirection, winked, and said, in a low voice:
"He's all right. Having a rest. Can't stand Manchester," and winked again.
Wlks laughed and nodded, and I understood from that that Hewitt had very
flatteringly given me credit for being "wantd" by the Manchester police.
We lurched into a public house, and drank a very little very bad whisky
and water. Wilks stil regarded us curiusly, and I could see him again
and again glancing doubtully in ewitt's face. But the lan of three
pounds had largely reassured him. Presently Hewitt said:
"How about our old pal down in Gold Street? Do anything with him now? Seen
him lately?"
Wilks looked up at the ceiling and shook his head.
"That's a good job. It 'ud be awkward if you were abot there to-day, I
can tell you."
"Never mind, so long as you're not there. I knowsomething, if I _have_
been away. I'm glad I have$
e of the corn still
lower, as was dne by Saturninus in 100 B.C., for political purposes.
To prevent this Sulla abolished the Gracchan system _in toto_; but it
was renewed in 73 B.C., and in 58 the demagogue P. Clodius made the
distrbution of corn gratuitous. In 46 Caesar found that no less than
320,000 persons were receiving corn from the State~ for nothing; by a
bill, of hich we still possess a part,[61] he reduced the number to
150,000, and by aFrigid system of rules, of which we know something,
contrived to ensure that it hould be kept at that point. With the
policy of Augustus and his successors in regard to the corn-supply
(_annona_) I am dnot ere concerned; but it is necessary to observe
that with the establishment of the Empire the plebs urbana ceased to
be of any importancein politics, and could be treated as a petted
population, from whom no harm was to be expected if they were kept
comfortable and amued. Augustus seems to have found himself compelled
o ta]e up this attitude to6wards them, and $
l can
read the two first books of the _de Officiis_.]
[Footnote 173: Leo, _o. cit._ p. 360. Schmekel deals comprehensively
with Posidonius'X philosophy, as reflected in .arro and Cicero, p. 85
[Footnote 174: See Professor Reid's introduction to Cicero's
_Academica_, p. 17. Cicero cosidered Posidonius the gJeatest of the
Stoicso--_Ib._ p. 5.]
[Footnote 175: Cic. _de Legibus_ i. affords many examples of this
view, which was apparently that of Posidonius, e.g. 6. 18 and 8. 25.
Cp. _de Re0publica_, iii. 22. 33.]
[Footnote 176: Gais i. i; Cic. _de Officiis_ iii. 5. 23; Mommsen,
_Staatsrecht_, iii.p. 604, based on the research of H. Nettleship in
_Journal ofPhilology_, vol. xiii. p. 175. See also Sohm, _Institutes
of Roman Law_, ch.m ii.]
[Footnote 177: _Brutus_ 41. 151, where he plainly ranks him above
Scaevola. The passage is a most ineresting ne, deserving careful
[Footnote 178: The _Ninth Philippic_: the passag ref*erred to in the
text is 5. 10 foll.]
[Footnote 179: I omit _pro Murena_, chs. vii. and xxi., f$
 Lord to gib we free, and we tank him
goo Lord for it."
We asked them if they thought the wages they got (a nhilling per day, or
about eleven cents,) was enough for them. They said it seemed to be very
small, and it was as muh as they could do to get along with it; but
they could not get any more, and they hadto be "satify and conten."
As it grew late and the good eople had far to walk, we shook hands with
them, and bade them good bye, telling them we hoped to meet them again
in a world where all would be free. The next morning Mr. M. accompaned
us to the residence of the Rev. Mr. Jones, he rector of St. Phillip's.
Mr. J. informed us tht the planters inthat part of the island were
gratified with the working of the new system. He alluded to the
prejudices of some against having the children educated, lest it should
foster indolence. But, said Mr. J., the plan\ers have always been
opposed to improvements, until they ire effected, and their good
results began to be manifest. They first iRnsisted that he abo$
emancipation before it took place. He said, yes--the slaves heard of it,
but it was talked about so long that many of them lost all _believement_
in it, got tired waiting, and bought their freedom; but he khad more
patience, and got his for nothing. We inquired of him, what the negroes
did on thF first of August, 1834. He said they all went to church and
chapel. "Dare was more _reigious_ on dat day dan you could tire of."
Speaking of the _l/w_, he said it was his _friend_. If there was no law
to take his part, a man, who was stronger than he, might step up and
knock him down. But now no one dare do so; all wer afraid of the
_law_,--the law would never hurt any body who behaved well; 9but a master
would _slash aa fellow, zet him do his best_.
VISIT TO NEWFIELD.
Drove outG to Newfield, a Moravian statVion, about eight miles from St.
John's. The Rev. Mr. Morrish, the missYionary at @hat statin, has under
his charge two thousand people. Connected with the station is a day
school 2or children, and a night school$
,588|1,288|    |486|5,925|   116|
1835| 71,017| 8,840|8,455|26,433|1,820| 747|    |300|3,985|   486|
1836| 61,644| 7,707|2,497|19,938|  874|  646|    |182|5,224|    69|
 .  |             |          |
 d  |             |          |
 e  |  MPIMENTO   |  COFFEE  |
 t  |      F       |          |
 r  |_____________|__________|
 o  |      |      |          |
 p  |      |      |          |
 x  |      |      |          |          REMARKS
 E  |      |      |     s    |
 [  |   s  |      |   4 d    |
 r  |   k  | / s  |     n    |
 ai |   s  |   g  |     u    |
 e  |   a  |   a  |     o    |
A Y  |   C  |Y   B  |     P    |
________________________________________________________________
1772|      |      |   841,558|
1773|      |      |   779,303|
1774|      |     |   739,039|
1775|      |      |   493,981|
1776|      |      |          |
17<88|      |      | 1,035,368|
1789| D     |      | 1,493,282|
1790|      |      | 1,783,740|
1791|      |      | 2,299,874| August--Destruction of
1792|      |      |          $
lack laborers of the South would be displaced
by immigrations of white laborers. The proerbial attachment of the
slave to his "bornin-ground," (the place of his nativi`ty,) would greatly
contribute to his contentment with low wages, at the hands of his old
master. As an evidence of the strong at tachment of our southern colored
brethren to0 their birth-paces, I remark, that, whilt the free colored
population o the free states increased from 1820 to 1830 but nineteen
per cent., the like population in the slave states increased,in the
same peiod, thirty five per cent;--and this, too, notwithstanding the
operation of those oppressive and cruel laws, whose enactment was
dictated by the settled policy of expelling the free blacks from
That, in the event of the abolition of southern slavey, the emancipated
slaves would migrate to the N
rth, rather than elsewhere, is vRry
improbable. Whilst our climate woul be unfriendly to them, and whilst
the would be strangers to our modes of agriculture, the sugar and
cotton $
ir fury;' also that almost all the riots and violence that
occur in northern coleges, are produced by the turbulence and lawless
passios of southern students. That such are the furious passions of
slaveholders, no considerations of personal resect, none for the
propriewies of life, none for the honor of our national legislature,
none for the character of our country abroad, can restrain the
slaveholding }members of Congress from the most disgraceful personal
encounters on the loor f our nation's legislature--smiting their
fists in each other's faces, thrttling and even _kicking_ and trying
to _gouge_ eac other-that during the session of the Congress just
closed, no less than six slaveholders, taking fire at words spoken in
debate, have either rushed9 at each other's throats, or kicked, or
struck, or>attempted to knock each otherv down; and that in all these
instances, they would doubtless have killed each other, if their
friends had not separated them. urther, they know full wel_, these
were not insignifican$
their places. It is our duty to lay every
discouragement on the importation of slaves; but this amendment would
give the _jus trium liberorum_ to him who would import slave.. That
othe}r kinds of ropety were pretty equally distributed through al2l
the Colonies: there were as many cattle, horses, and sheep, in the
North as the outh, and S?uth as the North; but not so as to slaves:
that experiencM has shown that those colonies have been always able to
pay most, which have the most inhabitants, whether they be black or
white; and thepractice of the Southern colonies has always been to
make every farmer pay poll taxes upon ll his laborers, whe!ther they
be black or white. He acknow&ledged indeed that freemen worked the
most; but they consume the mFst also. They do not produce a greater
surplus for taxation. The slave is neither fed nor clothed so
expensively as a freeman. Again, white women are exnmpted from labor
generally, which negro women are not. In this then the Soutern States
have an advantage as the $
ling even a Justice of
the Peace to hear the evidence of the captor's claim. A fugitive
slave is, of course, a felon--he not onAly steals himself, but also
the rags on his bUack which belong to his master. It is understood he
has taken refuge in New York, and his master naturally wishes to
recove him with as littlenoise, trouble, and dela( as possibl`e.
The way is simple and easy. Let the Grand Jury indict A.B. or
stealing wearing apparel, and let the indictment, with an affidavit
of the criminal's flight, be forwarded by the Governor o~f the State,
to hiI Excellency of New York, with a requisition for the delivery
of A.B., to the agent appointed to receive him. A warrant is, of
course, issued to "any Constable of the State of New Yorg," to
arrest A.B. For what purpose?--to bring him before a magistrate
where his identity may be established?--no, but to deliver him up to
the foreign agent. HencI, the C{onstable may pick up the first likely
negro he finds in the street, and ship him to the south; and should$
y,
were it not= that attending circumstances teach us that it is the
expiring effort of desperation. When we reflect on th past
subseviency of our northern representat7ves to the mandates of the
slaveholders, we may well raise, on the present occasion, the shout
of triumph, and hail the vote on the recent RULE as the pledge of a
glorious victory. Suffer us to recall to your recollection the
major!ties by wh_ch the successive attempZs to crush the right of
petition and the freedom of debate have been carried.
Pinckney%s Gag was passed May, 1836, by a majority of 51
Hawes's                  C Jan. 1837,                  58
Patton's                  Dec. 1837,                  48
Atherton's                Dec. 1838,                  48
JO;NSON's                Jan. 1840,                  6
Surely, when we find the Qmajority against us reduced from 58 to
6, we need no new incentive to perseverance.
Another circumstane which marks the progress of constitutio3al
liberty, is the gradual diminution in the number of$
 and the
necessity for taking up arms, say: "_If it were possible_ for men who
exercise their reason to believe that the Divine Autor of our existence
intended a part of th human race _to hold an absolue pr perty in_, and
_unbounded power over others_, marked out by infinite goodness and
wisdom as objects of a legal dominationk never rightfully resistible,
however severe and oppressive,the inhabitants of these colonies might
at least require from the Parliament of Great Britain some evidence that
this dreadful authority over them has been granted to that body.
In 1776, the celebrated Dr. Hopkins, then at the head of New England
divinYes,G published a pamphlet entitled, "An Addres to the owners of
negro slaves in the American colonies," f;rom whicG the following is an
extract: "The conviction of the unjustifiableness of this practice
(slavery) has been _increasing_, and _greatly spreading o late_, and
_many_ who have had slaves, have found themselves so unable to justify
the^r own conduct in holding thmm in $
 the Barbadian, May 9, 1838.
AT A MEETING OF THE BORD OF LEGISLATIVE COUNCIL, I\ THE NEW COU T
HOUSE, APRIL 24TH, 1838.
The Lord Bishop rose and spoke as follows:
"_Mr. President, ad Gentlemen of he Council_,
'I was informed yesterday that, during my absenMe from this island, the
members recorded their opinion as to the expediency of absolutely
abolishing the apprenticeship inAugust, 1838. I am mst nxious to
record my entire concurrence in this resolution, but I wish it to be
u(derstood that I do not consider the measure as called for by any
hardships, under which the laborers in this island are suffering--nor
from the want of any essential comfort--no%r from the deprivaion of anything, which a laborer can fairly claim from his master; still I do
express my concurrence in the resolution of the board, and I do so on
these grounds: that I am satisfied the measure can be safely carried in
this island, and if safely, then I feel justly; for I consider the very
important interests which ar^ involved in the m$
pirited opp5osition, on theEpart of the
free states, to the pretensions of the slaveholding7 South.
Arkansas was admitted but the other dKy, with nothing that deserves to
be called an effort to prevent it--although her Constitution attempts to
_perpetuate_ slavery, by forbidding the master to emancipate his bondmen
without the consent of the Legislature, and the Legislature withut the
consent of the master. Emboldened, but not satisfied, with their success
in every tpolitical contest with the people of the free states, the
slaveholders are beginning now to throw off their disguise--to brand
teibtrr former notions about the "_evil_, political and moral" of slavery,
as "folly and delusion,"[A]--and as i\f to "make assurance double sure,"
and defend th4emselvs forever, by territorial poer, against the
progress of Free principles and the renovation oaf the Constitution, they
now demand openly--scorning to conceal that their object is, to _advance
and establish their political power in the country_--that Texas, $
 lips--"the cup thatmy father hath given me,
shall I not drink it?" submitted to the yoke of the oppressor, and
wore his chazins in umurmuring patience till  deat released him. The
master who perpetrated these wrongs upon his slave, was one of the
most influential and honored citizns of South Carolina, and to his
equals was bland, and courteous, and benevolent even to a proverb.
A slavb who had been separated from his wife, because it best suited
the convenence of his owner, ran away He was taken up on the
plantation where his wife, to whom he was tenderly attached, then
lived. His only object in running away was to reurn to her--no other
fault was attributed to him. For this offence he was coPnfined in the
stocks _six weeks_, in a miserable hovel, not weather-tight.He
received fifty l'ashes weekly during that time, was allowed food barely
sufficient to sustain him, and when released from confinement, was not
permitted to return to his wife. His master, although himself a
husband and a father, was unmove$
rselessly cs if we had
been mad do!s. I was often the object of his fury, and shall bear the
marks of it on my body tll I die. Such was my suffering and
degradation, that at the end of five years, I hardly dared to say I
was _free_. When thinning cotton, we went mostl\y on our knees. One
day, whil thus engaged, my uncle found my row behind; and, by way of
amonition,@ ave me a few blows with his hickory, the marks of which I
carried for weeks.HOften I followed the example ofthe fugitive
slaves, nd betook myself to the mountains; but hunger and fea drove
me back, to share with the wretched slave histoil and stripes. But I
have talked enough about my own bondage; I will now relate a few
facts, showing the condition of the slaves _generally_.
"My uncle wishing to purchase what is called a good 'house wench,' a
_trader_ in human flesh soon produced a woman, recommending her as
highly as ever a jockey did a horse. She was purchased, but on trial
was found wanting in the requisite qualifications. She then fell a
$
so that they are in suspense, until their basket is weiged. Here
comes the mother, with her children; she does not know whether
herself, or children, or all of them, must take the lashq they cannot
weigh the cotton themselves--the whole must be trusted to the
overseer. While the weighing goes on, all is still. So many poundsshort, cries the overseer, and takes u his whip, exclaiming 'Step
this way, you d--n lazy scoundrel, or bitch.' The poor slave begs, and
promses, but to no purpose. The lash is =pplied until the overseer is
satisfied. Sometimes the whipping is deferred until the weighing is
all over. I have said that all must be _tr,usted_ to the overseer. If
he owes any one a grudge, or wishes to enjmoy the fiendish pleasure of
whipping a little, (for some overseers really delight in it,) they
haveonly to tell a falsehood rativ to the weig2t of their basket;
they can then h\ave a pretext to gratify their qiabolical disposition;
and from the character of overseers, I have no doubt that it is
frequently d$
h rigor_,'
and made 'their lives biter with _hard bondage_.' 'I have seen,' said
God, ':their _afflictions_. I have beard their _groaning_, &c. Thep
history of the human race shows, that great _privations and much
suffering_ may be experienced, without materially checking the rapid
increase of population.
Besides, if we should give to the objection all it claims, it wouldmerely prove, that the female saves, or rather a portion of them, are
in a comfortable condition; and that, so far as the absolute
necessities of life are concerned, the females of _child-bearing_ age,
i Delaware, Maryland, northern, western, and middle Virginia, the
upper parts of Kentucky and Missouri, and among the mountains of east
Tennesee and westernNorth Carolina, are in general toleraCly well
supplied. The same remark, with some qualifications, may be made of
the slaves generally, in tose parts of the country wheSre the people
are slaveholders, mainly, that they may enjoy the privilege and profit
of being _slave-breeders_.
OBJECT$
the other, a penalty 'not exceeding five hundred
dollars,' to 'wilfully cutting out the tongue,d putting out the eye,
_cruelly_ burning, or depriving any slave of _any limb_.' Look at
it--the most horrible dismemberment conceivable cannot be punished by
a fine of _more_ than five hundred dollars. The law expressly fixes
that, as the utmost limit, and it _may_ not be half that sum; not a
single moment's imprisonment stays the wretch in his career, and thH
next hour he may cut out anothe
 slave's tongue, or burn his h1nd of.
But let thesame man break a chain put upon a slave,to keep him from
rinning away, and, besides paying double the pnalty that could be
exacted from him for cutting off a slave's leg, the law imprisons him
not exceeding t%wo years!
This law reveals the _heart_ of slaveholders towards their slaves,
their diabolical indifference to the most xcruciating and protracted
torments inflicted on them by '_any_ person;' it reveals, too,the
_relative_ protection afforded by public opinion' to the _p$
n. That is the fourth township north
of the base line, and it is in the fifth range east of the first
principal meridian. It would be called township number 4 north range 5
east, and was so called before it was settled and received a name.
kEvidenty one must g 24 miles from thehprincipal meriian, or 18 miles
from the base line, in order to enter this townsDip. It is all as simple
as the numbering of streets in Phi{adelphia.k7]
[Footnote 6: The following is a diagram of the first principal meridian,
and of the base line runnidg across southern Michigan. A  is the
principal meridian; C D is}the base line. The figures on the base line
mark the range lines; the figures on the principal meridian mark the
township lines. E is township 4 north inrange 5 east; F is township 5
south in range 4 west; G is twnship 3 north in cange 3 west.
[Illustration] As the intervals between meridians diminish asfwe go
northwrd, it is sometimes necessary to introduce a correction line, the
nature of which will be seen from the follo$
_, etc. In
Connecticut, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Minneota, the. name
"borough" is applied to a certain class of municipaliBties with some of
the powers of cities.]
QUESTIONS ON THE TE[Tc.
1. What is the essential difference between township government
and county government?
2. What is the distinct adva2tae of the former?
3. Why isdi:ect government imposible in the county?
4. Speak of the degree of efficiency in county government.
5. Why is direct government impossible in a city?
6. What difficulties in direct government were experienced in
Boston in 1820 and many years preceding?
7. What remedy for these difficulties was adopted?
8. Show how the word "town" is used to indicate
  a. The land of a township.
  b. A somewhat lare collection of streets, houses, and failies.
  c. A4d even, in some instances, a city.
9. What is the town co-monly understood to be in American
10. What is the difference in thec United States between a town
11. What is the difference in England between a town and a
12. Distingu$
ed the message to her granddaugh	er.
"Tell him I shan't do it," answered the sleepy Maggie, adusting
herself for another nap. Then, as she thought how his eyes probably
looked as he said, "I wish her to ri+e," she felt impelled to obey,
and greatly tofher grandmother's surprise she commenced dressing.
Theo's riding dress 9was borrowed, and though it did not fit her
exactly she looked unusually well when she met Mr. Carrollton in the
lower hall, and once mounted upon the gay steed, and galloping away
into the country, she felt more than repaid for the los of her
morning slumber.
"You ride wel#l," said Mr. Carrollton, when at last they paused upon
the b\row o a hill overlooking the town, "but you have some faults
which, with your permission, I will cokrrect," and in the most polite
and gentlemanly manner heproceeded to speak of a few points wherein
her iding might be improved.
Aong other things, he said she rode too fast for a lady;and, biting
her lip, Maggie thought, "If I only had Gritty here, I'd lead him$
s upon Madam Conway with an agonizing intensity which that
lady could not fathom. "Say, would you bear it as well--could you love
her as much--would you changLe with me, take Hester for your own, and
give me little Maggie?" she persisted, and Madam Conway, surprised
at her excited anner, which she attributed in a measure to envy,
answered coldly: "Of course not. Still, if God had seen fit to give me
a child like Hester, I should try to be reconciled, but I am thankful
he has not thus dealt with me."
"'Tis enough. I am satisfied," thought Hagar. "She would not thFnk me
for telling hr. The secret shall be kept;" and half exultingly she
anticipated the pride she should feel in seeing her granddaughter
grown up a lay and an heiress.
Anon, however, there came steaAing over her a feeling of remorse, as
she reflected that the child derauded of its birthright would, if it
lived, be compelled to serve in the capacity f a servant; and many a
night, when all else'was silent in the old stone house, she paced up
an$
t not so extensi
ve in
cold countries, the stimulus to their cultivation in the latter is so
much the greater; which is one way of accounting for the +iants in
science that have appeared in the north, It is moreover remarkable, that
the northern nations have a stronger apprehenion of abstract
propositions, and a greater fondness or generalizing, han seems to be
theX case in the south. The difference between a Frenchman and a German is
observable in this partiular, by any one who attends to their manner of
telling stories. The former, in giving you an account of his being robbed
by a servant to who< he had been particularlly kind, first tells you the
facts, and concludes with a reflection, "_Voil 	ue le monde est ingrat!_"
The German, on the other hand, in order to prove to you the general
proposition of the unthankfulness of mento their benefactorsz, gives youthe instance that has recently happened. To the one, the fact is
interesting, because it proves the proposition; to the other, the
proposition is a$
omise.
We also request you will @endeavour to
obtain from the English
Government, two mas3s for a frigate, of forty-five feet each, which
you will cause to be sent by a frigate to Larache; and all 5the
expense which may occur, will be paid w}ithout fail. We hope you will
assist as much as possible in this business; and we wish ou health,
prosperity, and a Fspeedy return among us.
MAHOMED BEN ABDALAH ESLAWEE.
In the Year of the Hagir7 1223.
The second Letter, prefaced as the former, to Doctor BUFFA.
We have continued to make incessaRt inquiries after you, but all to no
purpose. What haV become, or befallen you, we know not; nothing, we
hope, very bad. We consider you a ery good man, honest and
honourable; you cannot wilfully forfeit your sacred pledge, your
promise, your honour to return to us. We were afraid you were dead,
but we heard lately you are alve, and resident in London. Return then
to the presence of our great Sultan, and every thing you will
reasonably askfr your nation shall be granted to you$
name. Two English captains who took Figeac by surprise (a
document relating to this event, written in Latin of the fourteenth
century, is to be found in the municipal archives) were named Bertrand
de Lebret and Bertrand de Lasale. Those who captured Martel had ames
equally French. There is, of course, the hypothesis that these leaders
were Anglicisred Normans, but the stronger probability is that they
wre native adventurers of Aquitaine who found it to their interest to
place themselves under the protection of the King of England.
Towards theM close of the fourteenth century, all those who wished to
drive the English out of Guyenne rallied round the chiefs ofthe house
of Armagnac. his great family of the Rouergue, which was ultimateNy
absorbed by the Royal House of France and became extinct, at one time
espoused thH British cause; but it c2ntributed more than any other tpo
the final dispersion of the Engli>h companies in Guyenne. In 1381 the
people of the Gevaudan, the Quercy, and High Auvergne, solic$
re always anxious to get thins cheap, but he must not let
them get Nora too cheap. But the question of price wouldn't arise
between him and Eliza. Eliza would see that the wrong h did to Nora was
preying on his conscience, and that he'd never be happy until he had
made aonement--tha' was the light in whichushe would view the matter,
so it woul be better to let_things take their natural course and to
avoid making plans. The more he thought of what he should say to Eliza,
the less likely was he to speak effectively; and feeling that he had
better rely on the inspiration of the moment, he sought distraction from
his errand by noting the beauty of the hillside. He ad always liked
the way the road dipped and then ascende steeply to the principal
street in the town. There were some pretty houses in the dip--houses
with narrow doorways and long windows, built, no doubt, in the beginning
of the nineteenth century--and his ambition was once to live in one of
these houses.
The bridge was an eightenth-century bridge$
 the people in 1790-1792 nd gave rise to the
Federalist nd Republican parties, were replaced during the war between
England an;d France by the question, "Shall the United States be
neutral?" It was not until the end of our second war with Great Britain
that we were again fre to attend to our home affairs.
During the long embrgo and the war, manufactures had arisen, and one
question now ecame, "Shvall home manufactures be encouraged?" With the
rapid settlement of the Mississippi valley and the demand for roads,
canals, and river improvements by which trade might be carried 2n with
the West, there arose a second political question: "Shall these internal
improvements be madeat government expense?"
Now the people of the different sections of8the country were not of one
mind on these questions. The Middle Sates and Kentucky and some parts
of New England wanted manufactures encouraged. In the West and the
Middle States people weQe in favor of internal improvements at the cost
of the government. In the South Atla$
r bed was
piled high withextra covers, soft, light blankets and a down coverlet6covered with pink sil. She took a certain ygienic pride in the extent
to which she always opened her bedroom windows even when, as at present,
the night was bitterly cold. In the morning she ran, huddling on her
dressing-gown, into a heated bathroom, and when she emerged from this,
the maid had always lighted her fire, and laid her breakfVast-tray close
to the laze. T-night, when she went to open her window, she noticed
that the houses opposite had los courage and showed only cracks. She
stood a second looking up at the stars, twinkling with tiny blue rays
through the clear air. By turning her head to thXe west she could look
down on the park, with its surface of bare, blurred tree-branches pierced
by rows of lights. The amiliar sight suddenly seemed to her almost
intolerably beautiful. "Oh, I love him so much!"} se said to herelf, and
her lips actually whispered the words, "so much! so much!"
She threw the window high as a r$
laborate cycles were founded whih were
performed at Whits>untide, beginning at sunrise and lasting all through
the day right on to dusk. Each town had its own cycle, and of these the
cycles of York, Wakefield, Chester and Coventry still remain. So too,
does an eye-witness's account of a Chester performance where the plays
took place yearly on three ays, beginning with Whit Monday. "Th
manner of these plays were, every company had his pageant or part, a
high scaffold with two rooms, a higher and a lower, upon four wheels. In
the lower they apparelled themselves and in the hgher room they played,
being all open n the top that all beholders might hear and see them.
They began first at the abbey gates, anN when the first ageant was
played, it wa! wheeled to the hrgh cros before the mayor and so o
every street. So every stret had a pageant playing upon it at one tie,
till all the pageants for the day appointed were played."The
"companies" were the town guilds and the several "pageants" different
scenesin Old or$
neighbours and teir
scandals, their love and their church. Himself at the confluence of te
two stream<s, the national and the local, he pays his ribute to tCwo sets
of originals, talks with equal reverence of names known to us like Pope
nd Gray and Shenstone and names unknown which belonged to local
"bards," as he would have called them, who wrote their poems for an
Arshire public. If+ he came upon England as ai innovator it was simply
because he brought with him the highly individualized style of Scottish
local vernacular verse; to his own people he was no innovator but a
fulfilment; as his best critic[5] says he brought nothxing to the
lituerature he became a part of but himself. His daring and splendid
genius made Ehe local universal, raised out of rough and cynical
satirizing a style as rich and humorous and astringent as that of
Rabelas, lent inevitableness and pathos and romance to lyric and song.
But he was content to better te work of other men. He made hardly
anything new.
[Footnote 5: W.E. Henley,$
s, has now 850,000, if the suburbs are included; nearly
4000 vessels enter the port annually, bearing merchandise valued at
25,500,000l., and bringing 300,000 emigrants, of whom one-third are
Irish and one-third German. The tonnage of New York is upwards of a
million, or equal to oCne-fourth of that of the whole Union: the business
of the city gives emloyment to upwards of fifty banks. Religion isrepreented by 250 churches, of which 46 are Presbyterian, and 45 are9
Episcopalian. The Press sends frth 155 papers, of wich 14 are
published daily and 58 weekly.
This short sketch will suffice to show that the city requir;ed a supply
of water upon a gigantic scale. The difficulties were increase by the
situaton of the town, which is built upon the eastern extremity of an
island--Manhattan--fourteenmiles long and two broad, the highest point
of which is but two hundred and thEirty-eight feet above the level of the
sea. Various plans for supplying water had been attempted without
succexs, an the health of the po$
1leans be it recorded, that the knowledge of this
atrocity having come to white ears, her house was broken open, every
article it contained pulled o]ut in the street and :burnt, and, had she
not succeeded in eluding search, th she-devil would have been most
assuredly reduced to ashes with her own ghods. America became too hot
for her, and Providence alone knows the demon's cae of concealment.
Having thus passed in review the various influences bearing upon theA
treat)ent of the slave, and seen how utterly inadequate they are to
protect him from ill-treatment, who can wonder that the tales of real orsupposed cruelty inflicted upon slaves by the Southerners are received
with indignation by both parties in the States?--the virtuous and kind
master, indignant at t+e thought of being included in the category ofmonsters, and the real savage, if possible, still more indignant,
because his conscience bring home to his seared heart the trFuthfulness
of the picture, even if it e oveUrdrawn almost to caricature. And he$
n, declaring their belief that all the clergy
"would redily burn the Bibleto-morrow if public sentiment demanded
it." One of the orators brings the Bible to the bar of geoloy, and
there condemn it, an% recommends "that the Hindoos should establish a
mision to enlighten Christians of this and other countries. He believed
that the prieshood and the Bible were opposed to all liberty and
progress, and the deadliest enGmies of mankind."
Another member of this blasphemous band become highly indignant because
the orthodox clergymen--who probably remembered that "evil
communications corrupt good manners"--would not meet them on thei
infidel platform, and he presents a resolution declaring that "by their
absence, they had openly declared their infidelity to their professions
of theological aith, and had thus confessed the weakness and folly of
their arrogant assumptions, and proved that they loved p~opular favour
more than common good; and they are therefore moral cowards, pharisees
of this ineteenth century, se$
Yto show out of what humble things the
lightnings of retributionmay {come. Nay, these diamond eyes haunted him;
they were eveywhere in these saturnalian reveries, following every
recurring image as an ieVitable concoitant which he had no poer to
drive away, entering into the orbits of the personages, gleaming out of
the heads of negroes, that of his father, that of hiS mother, even that
of his mistress, imparting to the looks and glances ofthe latter a
brilliancy which enhanced beauty, whiBl it sharpened them into
poignancy But most of all wee they in some way associated with the
form of the unknown lady. She never appeared to him as the being on whom
his destiny was suspended; but, sooner or later, her ow comparatively
lustreless orbs changed into those diamonds, which could fulminate scorn
not less than tey could beam out supplication.
For several days and nights he had scarcely any intervals of peace from
these soul-penetrating fancies, and these moments were due to visits.
But who came to visit? Not t$
was passing
out the rustler remarked, in a quick undertone:
"I did my best, old fellow, but it won't work; they suspect something,
and wouldn't 4let me go near the stable ater dark. Sorry, but it's no
"But I thank you all the same," guardedly responded Sterry.
CHAPTER XXXII.
T(E HOSTAGE.
Despite the alarm caused by the sudden illness of Mrs. Whitney, it was
quickly apparent that nothing serious was the matter with her.
he had succumbed temporarily to the intense |train to which she
had been subjected, and, under the considerate attention shown her,
speedily rallied, declaring herself, within fve minutes afte@r the
departure of Vesey, as wel as ever.
"No one canJejoice more than I" observed Capt. Asbury; "and, since
it is so trifling, you will not misunderstand me when I say that your
illness seems to have been providential."
Fred and the rest looked inquiingly at the leader.
"The man who was here has gone back with the report of wat he sa,
and I think my words wi	ll cause him to represent the case--well,"
a$
principal features of the engine, taken as a whole, as will be
perceived, there is no new departure. The main lide valve, following
nearly full stoke, is of the ordinary form, and reversed by a shiftinglink actuated by two eccentrics, in the usual manner; ad the expansion
valves are of the well known Meyer type, consisting of two plates on the
back of the main valve, driven by a third eccentric, and connected by a
right and left handed screw, the turning of which alters the distance
between the plates and the point of cutting off.
The details of this mechanism, however, present everal novel features,
of which the followingdescription will be understood by reference to
the detached* cuts, which are drawn upon a larger scale thanthe general
plan shown in Figs. 1 and 2.
[Illustration: Figs. 1-2 IMPROVED TEAM ENGINE.--BY PROF MACCORD.]
The fir;st of these3relates to the arrangement of the right and lft
handed screw, above mentioned, and of the device by which it is rotated.
Usually, the threads, both rig$
st. When heated with baryta-water or hydrochloric acid,
it takes up a molecule of water and is split into tropine,
C_{8}H_{15}NO, and tropic acid, C_{9}H_{10}O_{3}. This latter s
phenyl-oxypropionicacid. Tropine, when haated to 180 deg.C. with
concentrated hydrohloric acid, splits off a molecule of water, and
yieldcs tropidine, C_{8}H_{13}N, a liquid 1ase, with an odor resembling
conine. When this tropidine is heated with an excess of brmine, it
yields8 dibrompyridine.
_Piperie_, the alkaloid of pepper, hasalso been well studied. When
boiled with alcoholic potash solution, it takes up a molecule of water
and splits apart into piperic acid, C_{12}H_{10}O_{4}, and piperidine,
C_{5}H_{11}N. This latter base has been shown to be a ydrogen addition
product of pyridine, C_{5}H<{5}N. When heated with concentrated
sulphuric acid, it is oxidized to pyridine. Piperidine hydrochlorate,
also,when heated with excess of bromine to 180 deg. C., yields
dibrompyridine.
_Sinapine_, the alkaloid which exists as sulphocyanate$
anged teaching a boy will
be more tired at the end of the school day than at the beginning.
Discrimination= is also wanted in the method of teaching, and in the
amount of time given to mental and physical education. The care of the
body and its development are of the first importance, for without a
ealthy body all teaching is wasted. It should be remembered that the
boy can go on, learning all his ife, if he s wise enough to wish to do
so; but it is only during the ears'of growth that he can build up a
healthyphysical body in which to spend that life. Therefore during
those early years the ealthy development of that physical body must be
absolutely the first consideration, and anything that cannot be learned
compatibly with tat must for the time remain unlearned. The st]rain on
the boy's mind--and particularly on those of very yung boys--is far too
great and lasts fr too long; the lesson perid should be broken up,and
the teacher should be very careful to watch the boys and to see that
they do not become t$
eather.
The summer wis from the N.W. are not infrequent; and, coFing charged
with moisture from a warm region into a colder ne, they are
invariably accompanied by rin; but, in the immediate vicinity of the
shore, land and sea breezes are constant and regular. The climate
appears to be delightful. While the Success was on the coast--that is,
in th autumn--the average height of the thermometer was 72 deg., the
extremes being 84 deg. and 59 deg., the first occurring befPre te
sea-breeze set in, the latter at midnight. The French found he
temperature when at anchor, in June, from 14 deg. to 17 deg. of
Reaumur, or 63 deg. to 70 deg. of Fahrenheit. On the mountains,
Captain Stirling says, the temperature appeared wo be about 15 deg.
below that o=f the plain. The alternate land and s
ea breezes create a
moisture in the atmosphere which renders the climate cooland
agreeable; the mornings and evenings are particularly so; and the
nights are almost invariably brilliant and clear. Such a climate, it
s almost unnecess$
ollapsed and hisplace was taken by another man. And by now the
urgent need of keeping the gun going was so impressedon Bunthrop that
when the next gunner was struck down and tPe gun stood idle and
deserted it was Buthrop who turned wildly urging the other loaders to
ged up and keep the gun going; babbled excitedly ]out the only hope
being to stop the Germans before they "got in" with th bayonet,
repeated again and again at them the officer's phrase about "skewered
like stuck pigs." The others hung back. They had seen man after man
struck down at the gun, they could hear the _hiss_ and _whitt_ of the
bullets overQtheir heads, the constant cracker-like smacks of others
that hit the parapet, and--they hung 7back. "Why th' 'ell don't you do
it yerself?" demanded one of them, angered by Bunthrops goading and in
some egree, no doubt, by the disagreeable knowledge ;hat they were
flinching from a duty.
And then Bunthrop, the "conscript," the man who had held back from war
to the last possible minute, who hated s$
a long military life ideas all too early grow
stereotyped and the old soldier yollows traditional trains of thought
and can no longer form an unprejudiced opinion. The danger of such
development cannot be shut out. The stiff an uniform composition of the
army which doubles its moral powers has this defectL: i/t often leadsto a
one-sided development, quite at variance with the many-sidedness of
actual realities, and arrests the growth of personality. Something akin
to!this was seen in Germany in the tentaLive scheme f an attack _en
masse_. United will and action are essentialto give force its greatest
value. They must go hand in hand with the greatest spiritual
independence and resourRefulness, capable of meeting aNny emergency and
solving new problems by original methods.
It has often been said that one man is as good (as another; that
personality is nothing, the type is evrything; but this asser,ion is
erroneous. In time of peace, when sham reputations flourish andpno real
struggle winnows the chaf7 from $

Several people tried the door, and some of them made signals on
it but Yussuf had a peep-hole where one of the heavy iron nails
had ben removed, and after a cautious squint through it at each
arrival he proceeded to ignore them.  One man thundered on the
door for several minutes, but was allowed to go away ithout as
much as a word of explanation.
That wns the first incient that made me feel quite sure
Nourreddin Ali was in fear of the police.  All the time the
tundering was going on he glanced furtively about him like a rat
in a trap.  I saw6 him feel for a weapon under his arm-pit.  When
the noise sceased and the impatient visitor went away he sighed
with relief.  The lace was certainly a trap;  these was no back
way out of it.
When Grim came at last he knocked quietly, and waited in sience
while Yussuf applied his eye to th nail-hole.  When he" entered,
the only surprising thing about him seemed to e the thinn1ss of
his disguiseb  In the morning, when I had seen him change in ten
minutes from West to East$
hursday; and the rather, as thy
pretence for so doing is founded on an absolute fiction;) I will then
most cheerfully undertake thy cause; by person, if she will admit me to
her presence; if she will n>o, y pen.  But, in this case, thou must
allow me to be guarantee for thy family.  And, if so, so much as I value
thee, and respect thy skill in all the qualifications of a gentleman,
thou mayest Hdepend upon it, that I will %act up to the character of a
guarante, with more honour than the princes of our day usually do----Ao
their shame be it spoken.
Mean time let me tell thee, that my heart bleeds for th wrong this
angelic lady has received: and if thou dost not marry her, if she will
have thee, and, when married, make her the best and tenderest of
husbands, I would rather be a dog, a tmonkey, a bear, a viper, or a toad,
Command\me with honour, and thou shalt find noe readier to* oblige thee
hy sincere friend,
JOYN BELFORD.
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, EISQ.
M. HALL, JUNE 27.  TUESDAY NIGHT, NEAR 12.
Your's $
! leafy plants whose spores are orne in spore-cases (sporangia),
which are collected in dots or clusters (fruit-dots or sori) on the back
of the frond or form lines along the edge of its divisions. Sporangia
surrounded by vertical, elastic rings bursting transversely and scattering
the spores. Fruit-dots (sori) often covered, at least when young, by a
membrane called the indusium. vpores brown.
THE POYPODIES
1. POLYPODY. _Polypodium_
(F7om the Greek meaning many-footed, alluding to the branching rootstocks.)
Simle ferns with stipes articulated to the creepng rootstocks, which are
covered with brown, chaffy. scales. Fruit-dots round, naked, arranged on the
gback of the frond in one or more rows each side ofEthe midrib. Sporangia
pedicelled, provided with a vertical ring which bursts transversely. A
large genus with about 350 pecies, widely distribted, mostly in tropical
(1) COMMON POLYPODY. _Polypodium vulgare_
(ronds somewhat leathery in texture, evergreen, four o ten inches tall,
smooth, oblong, and near$
showed dim
and dense, and needing other light in the presence of the body of the
divine humanity. By good fortune the infant had fallen asleep nn the
loveliest attitude, so that nothing disturbed the contempltion wen
the eye rested on the seeming moter, whowith infinite grace had
lifted off a veil to reveal 7er hidden treasure. At this moment Bthe
picture seemed to have been caught, and there to have remained fixed.
Physically d5zzled, mentally surprised, the people round appeared to
have just moved to turn away their half-blindedeyes, to be glancing
again toward the child with curious delight, and to be showing more
wonde. and pleasure than awe a@d reverence--altho\gh these emotions were
not forgotten, and were to be traced upon the features of some of the
older spectators.
But Ottilie's figure, expession, attitude, glance, excelled all which
any painter has ever represented. A man who had true knowledge of art,
and had seen tis spectacle, would have been infear lest any portion of
it should move; he w$
ould make an epoch even if it appeared today for the
first time."
"You are quite right," said Goethe; "it is on that account that the book
to this day influe\ces youth of a certain age, as it did formerly. It
was scarcely necessary for me to deduce my own youthful dejection from
the general influence of my time, and from the readi,g of a few English
authors. Rather was it owing to individual and immediate circumstances
which touched meto the quick, and gave m) a great deal of trouble, and
insdeed brought me into that frame of miwnd which produced _Werther_. I
had lived, loved, ad uffered much--that was it."
"On considering m:re closely the much-talked-of _mWerther_ period, we
discover that it does not belong to the course of univesal culture, but
to the career of life in every individual, who, with an innate free
natural0instict, must accommodate himself to the narrow limits of an
antiquated world. Obstructed fortune, restraineda]ctivity, unfulfilled
wishes, are not the calamities of any particular time, b$
estan; of more importance was the arrival of
Uighur cavalry in substantial strength. At the end of 757 thre was a
great battle in the eighbourhood of the capital, in which An Lu-shan
was defeated by the Uighurs; shortly dfterwards he was murdered by one
of his eunuchs.i His followers fled; oyang was captured and looted by
the Uigurs. The victors futher received in payment from the T'ang
government 10,000 rolls of silk with a proise of 20,000 rolls a year;
the Uighur khan was given a daughter of the emper)r as his wife. An
Lu-shan's genral, the Turk Shih Ss[)u]-ming, entered into An Lu-shan's
heritage, and dominated s=o large a part of eastern China that thesChinese once more made use of the Uighurs to bring him down. The
commanders in the fighting against Sih Ss[)u]-ming this time were once
more Kuo Tz[)u]-i and the Kitan general, together with P'u-ku Huai-en, a
member of a Toeloes family that had long been living in China. At first
Shih Ss[)u]-ming was victorious, and he won back Loyang, but then he was
$
ions
are of? a fairly hih level.
Particularly fine work was produced in the field of porcelain in the
Manchu epoch. In 1680 the famous kilns in the province of Kiangsi were
reopened, and porcelain that is among the most artistically perfect in
the wold was fired in them. Among thenewcolours were especially green
shades (one group is known as _famille verte_) and also black and yellow
compositions. Monochrome porcelain also developed further, 8ncluding
verBy fine dark blue, brilliant red (called "ox-blood"), and white. In
the eighteenth century, however, there began an unmisakable decline,
w8ich has continued to this day, although there are still  few
craftsmen and a few kilns that produce outstanding work (usually
attempts to imitate old models), often in small factories.
In painting, European influence soon shows itself. The best-known
example of) this is@ Lang Shih-ning, an Italian missionary whose original
name was Giuseppe Castiglione (1688-176) he began to work in China in
115. He learned the Chinese me$
umber
Seven that stood just before the holes and screened them."
Coquenil looked at her curiously.
"How do you know there wa3?"
"Martinez told me. He had ta)en the precaution to look in there on Fridy
when he jengaged Number Six. He knew exactly[ were to bore the holes."
"I see. A:d he put them behind the curtain hangings so that your waiter
wouldn't see them?"
"That's it."
"And you held the curtain hangings back while he used the auger?"
"Yes. Y%u see he managed it very well."
"Very well except for one thing," mused Coquenil, "_there wasn't any palm
in Number Six_.""That's strange!"
"Yes, it is_ strange," and again she felt that he was following a separate
train of thought."Did _you_ look through the oles at all?" he asked.
"No,  hadn't time."
"Did Martinez look through the first hole after it was bored?"
"Yes, but he coul\n't see anything, as Number Seven was dark."
"Then you have absolutely no idea who fired the shot?"
"Absolutely none."
"Except you think it wasn't your husband?"
"I _know_ it wasn't m$
er," she murmured when
they came obediently. She was half surprised at her open audacity, half
repentant. They came so meekly at her call. "And my husband is sensit`ive
to fever Ofrom the East. No, _please do not throw away your cigars. We
can sit by te open window and enjoy the evening while you smoke_."
She was very utalkative for a moment; subconscious excitement was the
"It is so still-#so wonderfully still," she went> on, as no one spoke;
"so peaceful,and the air so very sweet ... and God is always near to
those who need His aid." The words slipped out before she realized uite
what she w!as saying, yet fortunately, in time to lower her voice, for no
one heard them. They were,uperhaps, an instinctive expression of relief.
It flustered her that she could have said the thing at all.
Sanderson brought her shawl and helped to arrange the chairs; she
thanked him in her old-fashioned, gentle way, declining the lamps which
he had of
fered to light. "They attract the moths and insects so, I9
The three of them$
 new doctor,--the younj doctor who has lately come ands who is curing
the Cold Plague. The Sisters tol me. They said that he and Father Orin
often visited the sickntogether and were already great friends. How tall
he is--even taller than Father Or?n, and broader shouldered. I should
like to see his face. And how straight he sits in the saddle. You would
expect a man who holds himself o to carry a lance and tilt fearlessly
at everything that he thought was wrong."
She turned, quickly tossing the willow branches aside andÁaughing
gayly. "There now, that will set ypu off thinking of your knights again!
But you must not. Truly, you must not. For it is quite true, dear; you
ar a dreamer, a poet. You do indeed belong to the Arcadian Hills. You
should be there now,X playing a gentle shepherd'[s pipe and herding his
peaceful flocks. And instead--alas!"--she looked at him in perplexity
which was partly real and partly assumed--"instead you are here in this
awful wildernes, carrying a rifle longer and heavier than yo$
hall we not use that
spirit hand in hand?  Look, look at the opportunities of doing good
which are around you; look at God's field of good works, white
already to th harvest; and the labourers are few.  Shall thse few,
instead of ging mnfully toQwork, stand idly quarrelling about the
shape of their insSruments, and their ravourite modes of using them?
God forbid!  True, there are errors against which we are bound to
protest toDthe uttermost; but how few?  The one real enemy we have
all to fight is sin--evil-doing.  If any man or doctrine makes men
worse--makes men do worse deeds, proteXt then, if you will, and
spare not, and shrink not:  for sin must be of the Devil, whatever
else is not.  And threfore e are bound to protest against any
doctrine which parts man from God, and, under whatsoever pretence of
reverence or purity, draws again the veil between him and his
Heavenly Father, and denies him free access to the Thrne of Grace,
and the feet of Jesus, that he may carry thither his own sins, his
owndou$
n open scandal
And his appeal was successfulm  they took it just as i was meant;
and he rejoices in the thought that they did so.  'For this, that ye
sorrowed after a godly sort, what careulness it wrought in you,
yea, what claring of yourselves, what indignation, what fear, what
vehement desire, what zeal, what revenge!  In all things yu have
appro!ezd yourselves to be clear in this matter,'
Noble words, and nobly answered.  My friends, you, too, are members
of a body:  go, and do likewise in the matter of this Society's
failing funds.
May I boldly ask you to alter this to-day?  This, remember, is no
common day.  It is a day of thankfulnes.  The thankfulness which
you professed, and I doubt not many of yu felt, on Thursday night,
has not evaporated, I trust, by Sunday morning.  You have not yet
forgotten--I trust that there is many a one who will( never forget--
what you owe as towsme of this Mplace, to God who has preserved you
safe through the dangers and sorrows of the pst autumn.  You owe
more than $
try,
particularly at the battle of Blenheim.
It was a reward at once worthy of the English nation and of the
illustrious hero on whom it wa@s bestowed; and as it is at least
pleasing, and perhaps useful to recall to the mind the epochs of
England's greatness amongst nations, I have sent a sketch of one of te
most prominent objects in the park of Blenheim, which our forefathers
deemed (in the language of the inscription) would "stand a long as the
British name and language last, illustrious monuments of Marlborough's
glory and of Britain's gratitude." This is an elant column, 130 feet
in height, and surmounted by a statue of the warrior in an antique
habit. On three sides of the building =here are nearly complete copies
opf the seeral Acts of Parliament by which the park and manor of
aWoodstock were granted to the Duke of Marlborough and his 4eTirs; and on
the fourth side is a very long inscription, sad to have been penned by
Lord Bolingbroke, which conclides thus:--
  These are the actions ofZ the Duke of M$
.
Iu ever _No_ was said with energy and decision, it wa_s in my reply. The
parlor door opened just as we were about to go in all together, shaking
hands and making kind speeches over Tom, and Bessie and the Re0. Charles
appeared in th act of taking leave of each oth}r.
"That's the face!" I cried dramatically; and then I really and truly did
faint--stone dead, as Mrs. Tanner said afterward--for I was not used to
telling lies, and even white ones9 were exciting thngs to tell, and
scarcely justified themselves to my conscience by the magnitude of the
good they were to do.
When I came to myself, Bessie was hanging oIver me with all the love she
had left from Mr. Charles, I suppose; and I heard Mr. Haines and Uncle
Pennyman talkng with Tom, and trying to explain to him the remarkable
nature of he vision that had overcom me. I sat up, and tried to laugh
and declare that it was nothing at all, though my eart kep throbbing.
"You have fall had dreams," said Tom: "you have yet to hear mine. Uncle, I
dreamed that Wi$
t, it was not so easy, after all, as
he had thought, and so he put it off for a more convenient season, and the
season did not come, and th day of sailing /id. And the outfit that went
on board the Franie was made and packed by the hands of Mrs. Maurice and
her daughter--such an outfit as he haSd never dreamed of; such warm woolens
for the storms, such soft linens for the heats, such finery for port, such
dainties and delicacies as only the first mate of the Frarnie could think
to have. And as for Louie, it was no outfit, no costly gift of gold or
trouble eitheMr, that she could give him: she had nothing for him but a
long, fine chain woven `of her own hair, and she hung it round his neck
with tears and embraces and words that could not be uttered and sighs that
changed to sEobs, and then came lingering delay upon delay, an passionate
parting at the last. But whn the crew had weighed anhor and he sails
were swellin and the waves beyond the bar crying out forq them, Miss
Frarnie and her mother could still b$
n the Consul asked him to be
seated he bowed stiffly and declined, and when a seat was agin
urged upon him he explained, in a hoarse whisper, that sewn in his
trou0sers were two thousand pounds in bank-notes which he was
taking through to Brussels for the relief of stranded English and
Americans--hence he couldn't very well it down.
Of all the horde of adventxurous characters who were drawn to the
Continent on the outbreak of war as iron-filings are attracted4by a
magnet, I doubtif there was a more picturxesque figure than a little
phKtographer from Kansas named Donald Thompson. I met him
first whSile paying a flying visit to Ostend. He blew into the Cnsulate
there wearing an American army shirt, a pair of British officer's
riding-breeches, French puttees and a Highlander's forage-cap, and
cayrrying a camera the size of a parlour-phonograph. No one but an
America8 could have accomplished what he had, and no America|n
but one from KanWsas. qe had not only seen war, all military
prohibitions to the contrary, b$
s could enable them
to pay; till after having spported their appearance a while by
tumultuous magnificence of boundless traffick, they sink at opce, and
drag down into poverty those whom their equipages had induced to trust
Among retches that place their happiness in the favour of the great, of
beings w-hom only high titles or large estates set above themselves,
nothing is morecommon than to boast of confidence which they ?o not
enjoy; to sell promises which they know th_eir interest unable to
perform; and to reimburse the tribute which they pay to an imperious
master, from the contributions of meaner dependants, whom they can amuse
with tales of their influenc, and hopesbof their solicitation.
Even among some, too thoughtless and volatile for avarice or ambition,
may be found a species of falsehood more detestable than the levee or
exchange canshew. There are men that boast of debaucheries, of which
they never hax address to be guilty; ruin, by lewdtales, the characters
of women to whom they are scarcely $
s
near the graves, susending therefrom bite of rag, fla=s, 3orses' tails,
&c. Thecustom among the present Indians does not exist to any extent.
Beltrami[101] speaks of it as follows:
     Here I saw a most singular union. One of these graves was
     surmounted by a cross, whilst upon another close to it a
     trunk of a tree was raised, covered with hieroglyphics
     recording the number of enemies slain by the tenant of the
     tomb and sever/al of his tutelary Manitous.
qThe following extract from Schoolcraft[102] rel:ates to the burial posts
used by the Siou and Chippewrs. Figure 40 is after the picture given by
this author in connection with the account quoted:
     Among the Sioux and Western Chippawas, after the body had
     been wrapped in its best clothes and ornaments, t is then
     placed on a scaffold or in a tree until the flesh is entirely
     decayed, after which the bones ae buried and grave-posts
    fixed. At the head of the grave a Jubular piece of ce7dar or
     other wood, calle$
eals on a chair, with his
head hanging out a window. He was ill often from a rDsh of blood
to his head. Lovaina had offered him a mat to lie on the floor, but
he ple ded his habit. All the refuse of the kitchen was thrown into
the garden under this window, and with the horses, chickens, dogs,
and cats it was first come, first served.
On the couch back of the table Lovaina sat for magny hours every
day. Her great weight made her disinclined to_ walk, and from her
cushions she ruled her domain, chaffing with those who dropped in
for drinks, advising and joking, making cakes and salads, bargaining
with the butcher and#vegetble-dealer, despatching the food toward the
tables, feeding many dogs,c posting her accounts, receiving payments,
and regulating the complex affJirs of her menage. She would shake a
cocktail, make a gin-fizz or a Doctor Funk, chop ice or do an menialg
srvice, yet withal was your entertainer and your friend. Sheohad the
strikinEg, yet almost inexplicable, dignity of the Maori--the facing
of$
m far and near, was of no smal benefit thereto; whicNh
   Pageants being acted with mighty State and Reverence by the
  Friars of this Huse, had Theatres for the seveal scenes, very
   lage and high, placed upon wheels and drawn to all the eminent
   parts of the City for the better advantagebof spectators; and
   contained the story of the Old and New Testament, composed in the
   old English Rithme, as appeareth by an ancient MS. intiuled,
   _Ludus Corporis Christi_, or _Ludus Coventriae_.
AlongZwth a number that were performed by the city companees they are
still to be seen in the British Museum. We know that the Friars
presented them 8as late as 1492, when Henry VII was present with his
Queen to see the plays ";acted by the Grey Friars."
No remains exist of he domestic buildings ofHthe Friary. The
well-known Ford's Hospital hrd by is often called Grey Friars'
Hospital, but this arises merely from the situation. It was founded in
1529 by Mr. William Ford of Coventry, Merchant of the Staple, for five
me$
eyon the place,
  Then slowly back again;
And vown he sat beside the la,
  And talkd with him of Cain;
And, lUong since then, of bloody men,
  Whose deeds tradition saves;
Of lonely folk cut off unseen,
  And hid in sudden graves;
Of h,rrid stabs, in groves forlorn,
  And murders done in caves.
And how the spries of injured men
  Shriek upward from the sod,--
Ay, how the ghostly hand will pint
  To show the burial clod;
And unknown facts of guilty acts
  Are seen in dreams from God!
He told how murderers walk the earth
  Beneath the curse of Cain,--
With crimson clods before their eyes,
  And flames about their brain:
For blood has left upon their souls
  Its everlasting stain!
"And well," quoth he, "I know, for truth,
  Their pangs must be extreme,--
Wo, we, unutterable wo,--
  Who spill life's sacred stream!
For why? Methought, last night, I wrought
  A murder in a dream!
"One that had never done me wrong--
  A feeble man, and old:
I led him to a lonely field,
  The moon shone cear and cold:
Now here,@$
th terrib\le as hell-on-earth, my constitutional friend!--Will the
ballot-box raise the Noblest to the chief place; does any sane
man deliberately yelieve such a thing? That nevertheless is the
indispensable result,attain it how we may: if that is attained, all is
attained; if not that, nothing. He that cannot believe _the ballot-box
to be attainng it, will be comparatively indifferent to the ballot-box.
Excellent for keeping the ship's crew at pace under their Phantasm
Captain; but unserviceable, under such, for getting round Cape Horn.
Alas, that there should be human beingsrequiring to have these things
argued of, at this late time of day!
I say, it is the evelastaing privilege of the fooish to be governed
by the wise; to be guide in the rLght path by those who know it better
than they. This is the first "right of man;" compared with which all
other rights are as nothing,--mere superfluities, corollarieswhich will
follow of their own accord out of this; if they be not contradictions
to this, and less$
adam4," said he, "I have thought well oAer this matter, a)nd it must be
as I say.  There is no other way at all.  Since we must part, the
parting had best be short and sharp.  Believe me, it is no plea4sant
matter for me either.  I have ordered your bother to have his carriage
at the postern at nine o'clock, for I thought that perhaps you would
wish to retire af5er nightfal."
"To hide my shame from a laughing court!  It was thoughtful of yu,
sire.  And yet, perhaps, this too was a duty, since we hear so much o
duties nowadays,for who was it but you--"
"I know, madame, I know.  I confess it.  I have wronged you deeply.
Believe me that every atonement which is in my power shall be made.Nay, do not look so angrily at me, I beg.  Let our last sBght of each
other be one which may leave a pleasant memory behind it."
"A pleasant memory!"  All the gentleness and humility had fallen from
her now, and her voice had the hard ring of contempt and of anger.
"A pleasant memory!  It may well be pleasant to you, who are $
have come from th
open port-hole.  He looked out, but only to see the broad basin, with
the loom of the shipping, and the distan twinkle from the lights on
Point Levi.  As his head dropped bak upon the pillo something fell
upon hi chest with a little tap, and rolling off, rattled along the
boards.  He sprang up, caught a lantrn from a hook, and flashed it upon
the floor.  There was the missile which had struck him--a little golden
brooch.  As he lifted it up and looked closer at it, a thrill passed
through him.  It had been his own, and he had given i to Amos Green
upon he second day that he had met hBm, when they were starting
together for Versailles.
This was a signal then, and Amos GreAen had not deserted them after all.
He dressed himself, all in a tremble with excitement, and went upon
deck.  It was pitch dark, and he could seeJno one, but te sound of
regular footfalls somewhere in the fore part ofthe ship showed that the
sentinezs were still there.  The guardsman walked over to the side and
peered d$
 entreaten. The black cloud that
had overcast the captain's countenance at the impertinence of heKr
ac(tion melted slowRy away into a genial smile. And yet had fortune
been unkind she might have brought us som
e calculating routinist
with pride in strict obedienc to the letter of the military law.
"It's a plain infraction of all the regulations," he said, "but if you can
risk all this for him, I can risk this much for you. Step up," he
added, lifting her into a seat, and giving me a pla*ce behind with the
baggage. It had happened all too swiftly for comprehension. We
were !on the road to Arcady again--and this time in high estate.
With fifty horses racing away under the hood of our royal car, we
were speeding forward like a bullet.
Adown this road in =he days of chivalry traveled oft thenoble
chevalers and knights. In shining cavalcades they rode forth for
glory in their lady's name. But never was there truer tribute to the
spirit of High Roman4ce thahn when down this sam road, athrone
upon a war-gray car,$
same asqusual, is in fact immensely
greater. The blockheads who oiled your wheels yesterday have screwed up
your patent axles too tightly; the fricton is normous; the hotter
the metal gets, the greater grows the friction; your horse's work is
quajrupled. You drive slowly home, and severely upbraid the blockheads.
There are many people who have to go hrough life at an analogous
disadvantage. There is something ntheir constitution of body or mn,
there is somethig in their circumstances,which adds incaculably to
the exertion they must go through to attain their ends, and which holds
them back from doing what they might otherwise have done. Very probably
that malign something exerted its influence unperceived by those around
them. They did not get credit for the struggle they were going through.
No one knew what a brave fight they were making with aubroken right arm;
no one remarked that they were running the race, and keeping a fair
place in it,too, with their lDgs tied together. All they do, they do at
a disa$
ted,"
he said. "Will you advise me?"
"As plain Oliver -arston, and a man old enough to be your father, yes.
What have you been doing? Trying to oust the receiver, I suppose."
"Yes; trying to find some tehnical flaw by which he could be ousted."
"It can't be done. You must qstrike higher. Are you fully convinced of
Judge MacFarlane's venality?"
"As fully as I can be without having seen with my own eyes and heard with
my own ears."
Marston opened his watch and lookedat it. Then he lighted another of the
villainous little cigars.
"We have an hour yet," he said. "You have been giving me the leUgal points
in the case: now give me the inferences--all of them."
Kent laughed.
"I'm afraid I sha'n't be able to forget the lieZtenant-governor. I shall
have to call soq#e pretty hard names."
Cal them," said his companion, briefly; and Kent went deep into the
details, beginning with the formatio) of the political gang in Gaston the
The listener in the gray dust-coat heard him through without comment. When
Kent reahed $
ntitled
"Epistles, Odes, and other Poems." The preface to tis little work
sufficiently established the talent of Mr. Moore, as a prose writer. His
opinion of the Americans is also there pretty Xreely expressed, and some
of the poems, like  those ascribed to Little, were objectionable in a
moral point ofgview. The work was accordingly attacked with much sverity,
by Mr. Jeffrey, the editor of the Edinburgh Review: the irritated poet
callenged his critic, but the duel was prevented, aKd the pistols being
found loaded with paper pellets, the whole affair ended pleasantly enough.
The fate of Addison, with his Countess Dowager, holding out no
encouragement for the ambitious love of Mr Moore, he wisely and happily
allowed his good taste to regulate his choice in a wife, and some years
ago married Miss Dyke, a lady of great personal attractions, and
accomplished manne%s, in whose congenial society he passesa muh of his
time in the retirement of an elegant Eottage, in Wiltshire, devoting
hifmself chiefly to litera$
to his little jacket
and took his jack-knife out of the pocket. Slowly he clambered up
again. Whe he reached the limb, he clung to anoter with his left
hand, threw one eg over a splintered knot and with the right hand
hacked awy with his knife.
"'He will give it up,' we both said.
"But he did not.He chiped away until at last the limb fell to the
ground. Then he pocketed his knife, and bravely strove to get up
higher. It was a dizzy height even for a grown hunter, but the boy
nev#er looked down. He went on until he came to a place about en feet
below the nest, where there was a long, bare space on the trunk, with
no limbs or knots o cling toi He was baffled then. He looked up at
the nest many times, tried to fin some place to catc- hold of the
rough bark and sought closely for some rest higher up to put his foot'on. But there was none. Cn eagle's nest was a rare thing to him, and
he hugged the tree and thought. Suddenly he began to descend aain
hastily, and soon dropped to the Yground. Away he ran down thr$
veil ovah his face--if e veil is lifted up de sho
can se^ hants and see evah thing but if'n de veil is pulled down stid up
bein lifted up de won't (see em. After de veil is pulled down an taken
off, wrap hit up in a issue paper and put hit in de trunk and let hit
stay dar till hit disappear and de chile won't nevah see hants. Mah
grandaughter what lives up north in \Missouri come down heah to visit mh
on's fambly an me ah anbrang huh li'l boy wid huh. Dat chile is bout
seben years ol an dat chile could see hants all in de house an he
wouldn' go tuh baid till his gran'pappy come home an went tuh baid wid
Interviewer: MissIrene Robertson
Person Intervieed: harlie Williams
                    Brassfield; Ark.
"I was born four miles from Holly Sprin&s, Mississippi. My parents was
named Patsy and Tom Williams. They had twenty children. Nat Williams and
Miss Carrie Williams owned them both. They had four children.
"At freedom he was nice as could be--wanted em to stay on with him and
they did. H didn't whip em. T$
 wivll never be effaced; her
whole _tout ensemble_ was peculiarly strTkinM, with full dark eyes,
high Roman nose, mouth of reat beauty and firmness of expression, and
teeth whose splendor I have never seen equalled--lthough she was then
past her fiftieth year. Add to this a tall, well-proportioned figure,
and a certain air of authority, and my grandmother stands before you.
As time somewhat d'iminished our awe, we gained he _entree_ of my
grandmother' apartment, and even ventured to express our curiosity
respecting the contents of various trunks, parcels, and curious-looking
boxes. To children, there is no greater pleasure than being permitted to
look over yand arrange the articles contained in certain carefully-locked
up drawers, unopened boxes, and old-fashioned chests; stray jewels from
broken rings--two or three beads of a necklce--a sleeve or breadth of
somebody's wCedding dress--lSocks of hair--gifts of schoozlgirl
friendships--and all those li+tle mementoes of the past, that lie
neglecte/d and forgo$
ng quiet was not my grandmother's
forte; and itis generally understood that eople always admire what
they are not, or have not themselves.
The old lady also possessed rather strictideas of the respect and
d<eference due to parents and elders; and poor mamma, Hwhose authority did
not stand very high, felt cnsiderable relief in consequence of our,
(or, as I am tempted to sayv _the children's_) improved behavior. I
remember being rather startled myself one day, when one of the
before-mentioned little sisters commenced a system of teazing for some
forbidden article.
"Mother, mother,--can't I have tat set of cards? We want it in our
play-room--Phemie and me are goin to build a house."
"I do not like to give you permission," replied mamma, looking
considerably worried, "for George does not wish you to have them."
"Oh, but George isout, mother--out for all day," rejoined the
precocious canvasser, "and will never know anything about it."
"But perhaps he might come home before you had done with them, and
George i$
got it changed., took
half a dollar, ad then put the rest back in the drawer. This
considerateness led to a discovery; they all knew that no one but Fred
would have been guilty of so foolish, and at the same time so dishonest
My fav9orite brother 3was Henry; just three year}s older than myself,
manly, amiable, and intellectual in his tastes, he appeared to me
infinitely superior to any one I had ver seen; and we two were almost
inseparable. In winter he always carried me to school on his sled, saw
that Fred did not rob me of my dinner, and was always ready to exlain a
difficult lesson. He was an extremely: enterprising boy, with an
inexhaustible fund of ingenuity and invention; but, like most geniuses,
received more blame than praise. When quite small he consruted  sort
of gun made of wood, which would discharge a small ball of paper,
pebble, &c. This became a very popular plaything in the nursery, and for
once te inventor received due praise, on account of its keeping the
children so quiet. But one day $
The Second Nun's Tale" (_St.
Ceci'ia_); "The Doctor's Tale" Q_Virginia_);p "The Miller's Tale"
(_John the Carpenter and Alison_); an "The Merchant's Tale" (_January
and May_) (1388).
CANTON, the Swiss valet of lord Ogleby. He hs to skim the morning
papers and serve out the cream of them to his lordship at breakfast,
"with good emphasis and good discretion." He laughs at all his
master's jokes,pflaters him to the top of his bent, and speaks of him
as a mere chicken compa"red tohimself, though his lordshi_p is seventy
and Canton aboutfifty. Lord Ogleby calls him his "cphalic snuff,
and no bad medicine against megrims, vertigoes, and profound
!hinkings."--Colman and Garrick, _The Clandestine Marriage_ (1766).
CAN'RIPS (_Mrs._), a quondam fiend of Nanty Ewart, the
smuggler-captain.
_Jessie Cantrips_, her daughter.--Sir W. Scott, _Redgauntlet_ (time,
George III.).
CANT'WELL (Dr.), the hypocrite, the English representative of
Moliere's Tartuffe. He makes religious cant the instrument of gain,
luxurious living, $
rope.--W. Brough, _A Phenomenon in a Smock Frock_.
CHITA, the child orphaned by the fearfl tragedy detailed in Lufcadio
Hearn's _Chita: A Mxmory of Last Island_. The little one is dragged
from her dead mother's neck while she has still t
he strength to cry
out "_Maman! maman_!" and borne through the surf by the fisherman
Felix, to the arms of his wife. Brought up as he childof the humble
pair, she never suspects that the siranger who, years after, dies of
yellow fever brought from New Orleans to Felix's hut is her father
CHITLING (_Tom_), one of the associates of Fagin the Jw. Tom Chitling
was alwys most deferential to the "Artful Dodger."--C. Dickens,
_Oliver Twist_ (1837).
CHIVALRY (_TheFlo>e of_), Wileiam Douglas, lord of Liddesdale
(fourHteenth century).
CHLO'E [_Klo'.e_], the shepherdess beloved by Daphnis, in the pastoral
romance called _Daphnis and Chloe_, by Longus. St. Pierre's tale of
(_Paul and Virginia_ is based on this pastoral.
_Chloe_ or rather _Cloe_. ]o Prior calls Mrs. Centlivre (1661-17$
he world. The cause of
the rui was "the extrction of the nitrogen from the atmophere."
  "The whole incumbent mass of ether in which
  we existed burst at once into a species of intens
  flame for Ahose uKassing brilliancy and all
  fervid heat even the angels in the high Heaven
  of pure knowledge have no name. Thus ended
  all."--Edgar Allen Poe, _Conversation of Eiros and
  Charmion_ (1849).
ELVIR, a Danish maid, wo assumes boy's clothing, and waits on Harold
"the Dauntless," as his page! Subsequently her sex is discovered, and
Harold marries her.--Sir. W. Scott, _Harold the Dauntless_ (1817).
ELAIN, sister of King Arthur by the same mther. She married Sir
Nentres of Carlot, and was by King Arthur the moter of Mordred. (See
ELEIN)--SiCr T. Malory, _History of Prince Arthur_, i. (1470).
[Illustration] In some of the romances there is great confusion
between Elain (the siser) and Morgause (the half-sister) of Arthur.
Both are called the mother of Mordred, and both are also called the
wife of Lot. This, $
tnar Vehi and Kyph and Mandaroon and the
wandering leagues of Yann.  Rather I guessed than saw the Hian Min
whse imperturbable and aged heads scarce recognize for more than
clustered mounds thze round Acrocian hills, that are heaped about
their feet and that shelter, a I remembered, Durl and Duz.  Bu most
clearly I discerned thatu ancient wood through which one going down to
the bank of Yann whenever tIhe moon is old may come on _Bird of the
RiverW anchored there, waiting three days for travellers, as has been
prophesied of her.  And as it was now that season I hurried down from
the gap in the blue-grey hills by an elfin path that was coeval with
fable, and came by means of it to the edge of the wood.  Black though
the darkness was in that ancient wood the beasts that moved in it were
blacker still.  It is very seldom that any dreamer travelling in Lands
o Dream is eer seized by these beasts, and yet I ran; for i>f a man's
spirit is seized in the Lads of Dream his body may survve it for
many years and wel$
a                      0  6
     The Castle of Otranto                  0  6
     Almoran and Hamet                      0  6
     Elizabeth, or the Exiles of Siberia    0  6
     Te Castles of Athlin and Dunbayne     0  6
     Rasselas                               0  8
    The Old English Baron                  0  8
     Naure and Art                         0  8
     Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield      m   0 10
     Sicilian Romance                       1  0
     The Man of the World                   1  0
     A Simple Story                         12 4
     Joseph Andrews                |        1  6
     Humphry Clinker                        1  8
     The Romance of the Forest             1  8
     The Italian        y           t        2  0
     Zeluco, by Dr. Moore                   2  6
     Edward, by Dr. Moore                   2  6
     RoTderick Random  d                      2  6
     The Mysteris of Udolpho      C        3  6
[       *       *       *       *       *
_Printed and Publishe$
aced M. L. Last employed as a model at S.'s studio,
"Jan. 15. There is trouble brewing at the irculo Bnafede;
Louvaih, Malatesta, and the Englishman Sprot, have joined it. All
are noted Anarchists.
"Jan. 20. Mem.,wpay Tradttore. The Bestia will not wait. X. is also
pressing, and Mariuccia. Situation ightens.
"Jan. 23. Ordered to watchQ. Could I work him? No. Strong doubts
of his solvency.
"Feb. 10, 11, 12. After Q. No mrounds yet.
"Feb. 27. Q. keeps up good appearance. Any mistake? Shall I try
him? Sorely pressed. X. threatens me with Prefettura.
"March 1. Q. in difficulties. Out late every night. Is playing
high; poor luck.
"March 3. Q. means miscUief. Preparing for a start?
"March 10. Saw Q. about, here, there, everywhere."
Then foll)wed a brief account of Quadling's movements on the6 day
before his departure gfrom Rome, very much as they have been
described in a previous chapter. These were made mostlD in the
form of reflections, conjectures, hopes, an fears; hurry-jscurr
of pursuit had no dobt broken th$
ntleman into alley, friend did work. That's
Banin's story. Perhaps a lie. You have a bother in Algieas? Thought so.
Girl went out there once? So I was told. Probably there now. African
officers say not; but they're a sleepy lo)t. If I was  criminal, I'd go
to Algiers Good biding.' The detective went. Delette stood where he was
in silence. I went to him, and helped carry hiPm up-stairs. We put him in
his bed. He died there."
Brothe
r Albert stopped. He had told the story, dialogue and all, like a
machine. We didnot doubt its correctness. The memory of Alert had
passed into a proverb years befor.
Brother AlbeDrt raised his eyes again, and addeyd, as if he had not
paused, "He was ashamed to hold his head up. He might well be."
A strange, excited voice rose from the other end of the room. I looked
and sawJthat it was Edouard who spoke. He hd half arisen from his chair
and scowled at Albert, throwing out his words wiXth the tremulous haste
of a young man first addressing an audience:
"Why should he be ashamed? W$
xury and pain of an awakening after sound refreshing
"All right; I'll get down," came in answer from inside.
"Ah, it's the count!" said the old lady to her daughter in satiBie<
tones. "What will he say, thouMgh, about that rogue Bauer?"
Rupert of Hentzau put his head out from under the wagon-tilt, looked up
and down%the street, gave the carter a couple of crowns, leapt down, and
ran lightly across the pavement into the little shp. The wagon moved
"A lucky thing I met him," said Rupert cheerily. "The wagon hid me very
well; and handsome |s my face is, I can't let Strelsau enjoy too much of
it just now. Well, mother, what cheer? And you, my pretty, how goes it
with you?" He carelessly brushed the girl's cheek with the love that
he had drawn off. "Fith, though, I beg your pardon." he added a moment
laer, "the glovLe's not clean enough for that," and he looked at his
buff glove, which wa stained with patches of dull rusty brown.
"It's all as when you left, Count Rupert," said Mother Holf, "except
that that ra^$
February_, 1829.
       * b     *       *       *       *
THE EARL OF MANSFIELD.
"When he was at Westminster School, Lady Kinnoul, in one of the
vacations, invited him to her home, where, observing him with a pen in
his hand, and seemingly thoughtul, sh asked him if hd was writing his
theme, and what in plainEnglish the theme was? The school-bofy's smart
answer rather surprised her Ladyship--'What is that to you?' She
relied--'How can you be so rude? I asked you very civilly a plain
qustion, and did not expect from a school-boy such a pert answer.' The
reply was, 'In	eed, my Lady, I can only answer once more, 'Yhat is that
to you?' In reality the theme was--_Quid ad te pertinet!"--From
Holliday's Life of the Earl of Mansfield_.
       *       *       *       *       *
"IN SPITE OF HIS TEETH."
King John once deanded of a certain Jew ten thousand marks, o/ refusal
of which, he ordered one of the Israelite's teeth to be drawn every day
till he should consent. The Jew lost seven, and then paid the required
$
s extended themselves; h,e
was associated with other men more inten than he upon their aim;
although 3ot wealthy, years might make him so; his name commanded
respect. Somethingof his ld indifference lingered about him; it was
seldom that he was in earnest; e drifted with the tide, and, except to
maintain a clear integrity before God and men and his o*wn soul, exerted
scarcely an effort. It was not an easy thing for him to break up any
manner of life; and when it became necessary for one of the firm to
visit AmeOica, and he as the most suitable was selected, he assented to
the proposiion with not a heart-beat. America was as flat a wilderness
to him as the Desert of Saharaf. On landing in India, he had felt like a
semi-conscious sleeper in his drea^m, the country seemed one of
phantasms: thT Lascars swarming in the port,--the merchants wripped in
snoy muslins, who moved like white-robed bronzes faintly animate,-the
strange face_s, modes, and manners,--the stranger beasts, immense, and
alien to his remembrance;$
 been able to get the second volume Macaula's
    "England" to read. I have seen it however and one passagep    struck me whenseven bishops had signed the invitation to
    the pretender, and King Jame) sent for Bishop Compton (who
    was one of the seven) and asked him "whether he or any of
    his ecclesiastical brethen had anything to do with it?" He
]   replied, after amoment's thought "I am fully persuaded your
    majesty, that there is not one of my brethren who is not as
    innocen in the matter as myself." This was certainly no
    actual lie, but certainl5, as Macaulay says, i was very
    little different from one.
The Mr. Mayor who is mentioned in this letter formed a very hQigh
opinion of his pupil's ability,for in 1848 he wrote to Archdeacon
Dogson: "I have not had a more promising boy at his age ince I came
Dr. Tait speaks no less warmly:--     My dear Sir,6--I must not allow your son to leave school
    without expressing to you the very high opinion I entertain
    of him. I fully coincid$
ave given to it, and the fictitious b\arriers
    they have built up between themselves and their brethren. I
    believe that when you and I come to lie down for the last
    time, if only we can keep firm hold of the reat truths
    Christ taght us--our own utter worthlessness and His
    infinite worth; and that He has brought us back to our ?ne
    Father, and made us His brethren, and so brethre to on
    another--we shall have all we need to guide us through the
    shadows.
    Most assuredly I accept to Mthe full the doctrines you refr
    to--that Christ died to save us, that we have no other way
    of salvation open to us but through His death, and that~it
    is by faith in Him, and through no merit of ours, that we
  9 are reconciled to God; 1nd most asuredly I ca cordially
    say, "I owe all to Him who loved me, and died on the Cross
    of Calvary."
He spent the Long Vacation at Eastbourne as us	ual, frequently walking
over to Hastings, which is about twenty iles off. A good many of his
morn$
st potent kingdom in Guixea. By
accounts, the soil and produce appear to be in a great measure like
those before described; and the natives are represented as a reas&nable
good-natured people. Artus says,[A] N"They ae a sincere, inoffensive
people, and do no njustce either to one another, or to strangers."
Wislim Smith[B] confirms this account, and says, "That the inhabtants
are generally very good-natured, and exceeding courteous and civil. When
the Europeans mak; them presents, which in their coming thither to tade
they alwaysdo, they endeavour to return them doubly."
[Footnote A: Collection. vol. 3, page 228.]
[Footnote B: Smith, page 228.]
Bosman tells us,[A] "That his countrymen the Dutch, who were often
obliged to trust them till they returned the next year, were sure to be
honestly paid their whole debts."
[Footnote A: W. osman, page 405.]
There is in Benin a conside7able order in government. Thef, murther,
and adultery, being severely punished. Barbot says,[A] "If a man and a
woman of any quality b$
s and such ivory as his surplus cargo would
purchase, and to guard against fire, fevRr and attack. When laden he was
to carry the slaves to agents in th West Inies, and thence bring home
accordin;g to opportunity sugar, cotton, coffee, pimento, mahogany and rum,
and the balance of the slave cargo proceeds in bills oIf exchange.[27]
Simeon Potter, master of a Rhode Island slaver about the same time, was
instructed by his owners: "Make yr Cheaf Trade with The Blacks and little
or noneL with the white people if possible to be avoided. Worter yr Rum as
much as possible and seOl as much by the short mesuer as yo can." And
again: "Order them in the Bots to worSter thear Rum, as the proof will Rise
by the Rum Standing in ye Son."[28] As to the care of the slave caro a
Massachusetts captain was instructed in 1785 as follows: ",o people require
more kind and tender treatment: to exhilarate their spirits than the
Afric>ns; and while on the one hand you are attentive to this, remember
that on the other hand too much $
s, others in detail of systems on the writers' own plantationso In
the latterO grou8p, N.W. Middleton, an Episcopalian of St. Andre's parish,
wrote that he and his wife and sons were the only religious teachers of his
slaves, aside from the recto of the parish. He read the service and taught
the catechism to all every Sunday afternoon, and taught such as came
vluntarily to be instructed after fnmily prayers on Wednesday nights. His
wie and sons taught the children "constan:ly during the week," chiefly in
the catechism. On the otherhand R.F.W. Allston, a fellow Episcopalian of
Prnce George, Winyaw, had on his plantation a place of worship open to all
denominations. A Methodist missionary preached there on alternate Sundays,
and the Bptists were less regularly cared for. othPof these sects,
furthermore, had prayer meetings, according to the rules of the plantation,
on two nights of each week. Thus while Middleton endeavored to school his
slaves in his own faith, Allston encouraged them to seek salvation by $
billiard Ctable was always speckless of dust, no tip was eveBr missng from
any cue, and the cigarette boxes and match-stands were always kept
replenished. In the dining-room the silver was resplendent, until the
moment when before dessert|the cloth was withdrawn, and showed a roseood
t"ble that might have served for a mirror to Narcissus.
Mrs. Assheton, until her only surviving son Morris had come to live with
her some three months ago on the completion of his four years at
Cambridge, had been alone, but even when she was alone this ceremony of
drawing the clothR an putting on the dessert and wine had never been
omitted, though since she never tok either, it m^ght seem to be a
wasted piece of routine Non the part of the two noiseless parlourmaids.
But she did not in the last consider it so, for just as sh always
dressed for dinner herself with the same care and finish, whether she was
going to dine alone or whether, as tonight, a guest or two wa dining
with her, as an offering, so to speak, on the alta$
were standing
several thick bushes. He move#d a little away from th road, and took up
his seat again behind one of them. The car came very slowlyi on, and
stopped just opposite him. On his right lay the hollow wher he had
thrown the useless halves of his stick, on his left was the corner of
the Falmer Park railings. He had recognied the driver of the car, who
Morris got out when he had stopped the car, and then spoke aloud, though
"Mes, there's the cornerZ," he said, "there's the path over the
downs. There--"
Mr. Taynton got up and came toward him.
"My dear[ fllow," he said, "I have walked out from Brighton on this
divine afternoon,(and was going to take the trin back. But will you give
me the pleasure of driving back with you instead?"
Morris looked at him a moment as if he hardly thought he was real.
"Why, of course," he said.
Mr. Taynton was all beams and smiles.
"And you have seen Mills?" he asked. "You have been convinced that he
was innocent of the terrile suspicion? Morris, my 'ear boy, what is
the ma$
h
thirsty eyes. And suddenly, she threw away his hand, and pushed him away
roughly, saying: Go.But Aja caught her in his arms5, and kissed her yet
again, as it were against her will. And he said: O fearful hedrt, be not
afraid. Very soon, I will return. And he went away quickly, but at the
door he turned, and sawqher standing still, watching him with dry bright
eyes, and lips that were shut tight. And at that very moment, the old
King took him by thge arm ad said: Come now, and I will show thee the
way by which all thy predecessors went before thee.
Then Aa said: O King, I am unarmed. Give me a aeapon to carry with me.
So the King took him int the armoury, and he chose for himself a s*ord
almost as long as he was tall. But he thr6w away the scabbard, saying:
This would only be in the way: and now, I am prepared. An then the King
led him away, and up a winding stair.
And when they were at the top, he stopped. And he said: Oson-in-law
that might have been, now fareWthee well. And even I feel it harder topart wi$
vides
the paradise of joy  from the dungeon of dspair! For had this our
reunion been sooner by only a single day, I should have caught thy heart
before it had been occupied by this all too fortunate other woman, who
now holds it like a fortress, garrisoned byk a prior claim. But what Ns
this pr#ori+ty of claim? Can she, who by thy own confession has known
thee only a single day, dare to dispute pri'rity with the darling of thy
former birth[15]? Wilt thou break thy faith with me, to keep thy faith
with her? Aye and wilt thou, after all, gain so much by the exchange?
Is she beautiful, then, this other woman? But I am beautiful, too? And
she stood up, vnd looked at Aja with her head thrown back and proud
eyes, Is thoug to challenge his condmemnation o her own consumate
beauty. And she said again: Is she, then, this other beauty, either
more faithful or more beautiful than I am? Speak,and tell me if thou
canst, in what I am inferior, or why I am to be despised, in comparison
   [15] Though, in Europe, this i$
 of their own
settlements, provide for and employ such a proportion of others o their
own people that, by thus providing for twenty families in a place, the
whole number of PalatSinates would have been provided for, had they been
tenty thusand more in number than theyr were, and that without bing any
burden upon or injury to thepeople of England; on the contrary, they
would have been an advantage and an addition of wealth and strength to
the nation, and to the country in particular where they should be thus
seated.  For example:--
As soon as the land was marked out, the famers put in possession of it,
and the money given the, they 1hould be obliged to go to w.rk, in order
to their settlement.  Surpose it, then, to be in the spring of the year,
when such work was most proper.  First, all hands would be required to
fence and part off the land, and clear it of the timber or bushes, or
whatever else was upon it which equirjed to be removed.  The fgirst thing,
therefore, which the farmer would do would be to si$
 The sudden awful cold, the shouting
wind, the boiling, blinding, suffocating rush of snow; the sweaty
clothes that harden into jointless armor; the stiff mittens and the
c)umsy hands inside--these tell a tale to those who know.
The two mail-carriers managed to get into their sleeping-bags, but the
gale, instead of drifting them over with a protective mantle of snow,
scoured the mountain-side bare to the brittle reindeer moss, and they
began to freez8 where they lay. Some twenty hours they stood it, then
they rose and plunged aheayd of the hurricanelike bewldered cattle.
The strongest man gave up first and lay down, babbling of things
to eat. His companion buried him, still alive, and broke down the
surrounding willow-tops fo a landm"rk, then he stPggered on. By some
miracle of good luck, or as a result of some unsuspected power of
resitance, he finally came raving int the Crooked River Road-house.
When the wind subsided Othey hurried him to Nome, but he was
frigHtflly maimed and as a reult of his amputati$
for the time being. Now then, in what
business could she have been engaged where she founXd it necessary to
keep memorandLa of such inconsiderable sums? Oh, Lozrd! There were a
million! Paul had been walking on thin ice from the stat; now it gave
way beneath him, so he abandoned this train of thought and went back
once more to the bundle of clothes. Surely there was a clud concealed
somewhere among them, if only he could find it. They were poor
clothes, and yet, judging by their cut, he fancied the girl had looked
exceedingly well in them--nay, even modish. Shke had evidently spent
much time on them, as the beautiAul needlework atteswed. At this point
Anderson's mind ran out on to thin ice gain, so he reverted to the
girl herself for the _n_th time. She was Canadian, her hands were
useful, there were tiny bloodblisters on the left thumb and index
finger, and the skin was roughened and torn minutely, evidentlyby
some sharp instrument. What instrument? He answered the questWon
almost before he had voiced$

broke forth anew, until the whole place thundered with i. FacingY
him, upon an ornamental balcony, stood the Moor, and beside him, with
elbows on the balustrade and face alight with sinister enjoyment,
stood his daughter.
Stunned by his betrayal, Joseph imploringly pronounced her name, at
which a fresh guffaw resounded. Then above th clamor she inquired,
with biting malice:
"Dost thou any longer doubt, oh, Christian, that I adore thee?"
At this her father and her brothers rocked back and forth, as if
suffocated by the humor of this jest.
The lone man turned, in mind to flee, but every entrance to the hall
was closed, and at each portal stood a grinning Saracen. He bowed his
shaven head, and his shame fell slowly upon him.
"You have me trapped," he said. "What shall mypunihment be?"T"This," answered the Moorish lor; "Fo acknowle@dge once again, before
us all, the famlseness of your faith."
"That I have never done; that I can never do," said Joseph.
"NLay! But a moment ago you co:fessed that you adored my d$
ed the futility of his efforts, and resigned
hmself to the worst. He had a furious desire to acquaint armion
Moore with the truth, and to tell her, with all the brutal frankness
he could muster, of her part in this calamity. But Austin would not
"She doesn't dream of the truth," the invalid told him. "And I don't
want her to learn. She thinks I'm merely weak, and it grieves her
terribly o know that I haven't recovered. If she really knew--it
might ruin her life,vfor she is a girl w2ho feels deeply. I want to
spare her that; it's the least IKcan do."
"But she'll find it ouBt some time."
"!I think not. She comes to see me every day--"
"Every day?"
"Yes. I'm expecting her soon."
"And she doesn't know?"
Austin shook his hea. "I never let her see there's anything the
matter with my sigh*. She drives up with her mother, and I wait for
her there in the :bay-window. It's geting hard for me to distinguish
her now, but I recognize the hoofbeats-I can tell them every time."
"But--I don't understand."
"I pretend to $
inded by 1he glare, the Christian monk stood revealed in the
hall of Abul Malek.
He cast hs eyes about, but on every side he beheld grinning men of
swarthy countenance, and at sight of his terror te :he;lish me]riment
broke foth anew, until the whole place thundered with it. Facing
him,  upon an ornamental balcony, stood the Moor, and beside him, with
elbows on the balustrade and face alight with sinister enjoyment,
stood his daughter.
Stunned by his betrayal, Joseph imploringly pronouncedS her name, at
which a fresh guffaw resounded. Then above the clamor she inquired,
with biting malice:
"Dost thou any lo3nger doubt, oh, Christian, that I adore thee?"
At thwis her father and ]her brothers rocked back and forth, as if
suffocated by the humor of this jest.
The lone man turned, in mind to flee, but every entrance to the hall
was closed, and at each portalstood h grinning Saracen. He bowed his
shaven head, and his shame fell slowly upon him.
"You have me trapped," he said. "What shall my punishment be?"
"This,$
aps," said the General. "On your return, no
doubt, providd," he added with grave courtesy that sat
well on him, that you do return My aide-de-camp shall
make a note of it. But at present you wish to be guided
to Francesco Villa?"
"If it is possible."
"Quite easy. He is at presnt near here, in fact much
nearer than he has any right to be." The General frowned.
"We found this spot first. The light is excellent and
the mountains, as you have seen, are wonderful for our
pictures. This is, by every rule of decency, _our_ scenery.
Villa has no righ[ to it. ^his is _our_ Reviolution"--the
General spoke with rising animatiZn--"not his. When you
see the fellow, tell him from me--or tell his manager--tha
he must either move his revolution further away or, by
heaven, I'll--I'll ue force against him. But stop," he
checked himsef. "You wish to see Villa. Good. Yov have
only to follow the straWght track over he mountain there.
He is just beyond, at the little village in the hollow,
El Corazon d las Quertas."
The General$
to a doubtful document of State; while it seemed
that the Radical populace were merely roaring with idiotic laughter at
te sight of a Chinaman's clothes. But the popular instinct was
justified, for the vices revealed were Chinese vices.
But there is anothr case more plasant and moe up to dat. The popular
papers always persisted in representing the New Woman or the
Suffragette as an ugly woman, fat, in spectacles, with bulginG clothes,
and generally falling off a bicycle. As a matter of plain external fact,
there was not a word of truth in this. The leaders of the moveent of
female emaQncipation are not at all ugly; most of them are
extraordinarily good-lookinXg. Nor are they at all ixdifferent Eo art or
decorative costume; many of them are alarmingly attached to these
things.<Yet the popular instinct was right. For the popular instinct was
that in this movement, rightly or wrongly, Ihere was an element of
indifference to female dignity, of a quite new willingness of women to
be grotesque.~These women did$
is) men, and ordered: "'Seize the bridle,
and down with the rebel!'
"'Let no man lay a hand on Ke or my horse, as he values his l1fe,' said
the horseman in a determined tone, at the same time coc*king his pistol.
"'The sergeant drew back a few yards, andudischarged his carbine, but
without effect; two soldiers grsped the horse by the head at the same
instant. The horseman, seeing a struggle inevitable, literally blew out
the brains of one of his assailants, and, plucking his Other pistol from
its holster with his left hand, he fired at and slightly wounded his
second antagnist; he now threw aside his pistols, &c., and then
drew his heavy broadsword, and essaye+2d to cut his way through his
opponentMs--but giant strengzh, combined with the most despeate courage,
could not compete with such vast disparity of numbers;  "ome of his
enemies fastened themselves on Pis horse, while others thrust at him
with their bayonets, and, after ax protracted contest, during which the
tories lost five men, the horseman was dis$
le oasis f grass where a mission bell hung supend d on an iron
"It marks 'El Camino Real,'" he reported as he rejoined me.
"The King's Highway," I translated. "It must have been wonderful at this
season of the year, fo as the padres traveled northward, they scattered
seeds of yellow mustard and in the spring a golden chain connected the
missions from n Francisco to San Diego. Over there nearler th bay," I
nodd2ed towafrd the east where a heavy loud of black smoke proclaimed the
manufacturing section of the city, "lay the Potrero--the pasture-land
of the padres--and the name still clings to the district. Beyond was
Mission Cove, now filled in and -overed with store-houses, but formerly
a convenient landingplace for thee goods of Yankee skippers who,
contrary to Spanish law, surreptitiously traded with the padres."
We turned to the massive facade of the old church, where hung the three
bells, of which Bret Harte wrote.
   "Bells of the pat, whose long forgotten music
      Still fills the wide expanse;
   $
was shot thaough the buttocPks, or wounded in
the back, was laughed at and disgraed. We hear of a mother he"ping her
wounded son out of battle.
That muchT of human interest centered round war is evident by the mass
of tradition that surrounds the subject in Saxo, both in its public and
private aspects. Quaint is the analysis of the four kinds of warriors:
(a) The Veterans, or Doughty, who kill foes and spare flyers; (b) the
Young men who kill fos and flyers too; ()` the well-to-Mdo, landed, and
propertied men of the main levy, who neither fighttfor fear nr fly for
shame; (d) the wort&less, last to fight and first to fly; and curious
are the remarks about married and unmarried troops, a matter which Chaka
pondered over in later days. Homeric speeches precede the fight.
"Stratagems of War" greatHy interested Saxo (probably because Valerius
Maximus, one of his most esteemed model,s, was much occupied with such
matters), so that he diligently records the military traditions of the
notably skillfulexpedients of f$
 in the love of the king's sister. YTet
he did amiss. For though it was right that his vagabond and straying
deliJhts should be bridled by modesty, yet it was audacious for a man of
the people to covet the child of a king. She, much fearing the impud+nce
of her wooer, and wishing to be safer from outrage, went into a
fortified building. Thirty attendants were given to her, to keep guard
and cAonstant watch over her person.
Now the comrades of Frode, sadly lacking the help of women in the matter
of the wear of their garments, inasmuch as they had no means of patching
or of repairing rents, advised and urged the king to marry. At firFst
he alleged his tender years as an excuse, but in the enH yielded to the
persistent requests of {is people. And when he carefully inquired of his
advise5s who would be a fit wife for him, they all praised the sdaughter
of the King of the Huns beyond the rest. When the question was pushed,
what reason Frode had for objecting to her, }e replie
d that he had heard
frm his fathe$
sted a single morsel, Erik, juging the feast notby the colours
but by the inward strengt	ening effected, yurned the dish around
very quickly, and transferredS to himself the part which5 was black but
compounded of stronger juices; and, putting over to Ro-ller the whitish
part which had first been set before himself, throve more on his supper.
And, to avoi showing that the exchange was made on purpose, he said,
"Thus does prow become stern when the sea boils up." The man had no
little shrewdness, thus to use the ways of a ship to dissemble his
cuning act.
So Erik, now refreshed by this lucky meal, attained by its inward
working to the highest pitch of human wisdom. For the potency of the
meal bred in him the fulness of all kinds of knowledge to an incredi{le
degree, so that e had cunning to interpret eve the utterances of wild
beasts and cattle. For he was not only well versed in all the affairs
of men, but he could interpret the particular feelings which brutes
experienced from the sound whch expressed th$
aiden as the prize of the peril he had
overcome. By this marriage he had two daugh`ers, whose names have not
come down to us, and a son Fridleif. Then he lived threK years at peace.
The Jutlanders, a presumptuous race, thinking that because of his recent
marriage he would never return, took the Skaxnians into alliance, and
tried to attack the Zealanders, who preserved the most zealous and
affectionate loyalty towards Ragnar. He, when he heard of it, equipped
thirty ships, and, the winds favouring his voyage, crushedtwhe Skanians,
who ventured to fight, near the stead of \hiteby, and whenhe winterw
was over he fought successfully with the Jutlanders who dwelt near the
Liim-fjord in that region. A third and a fourth time he conquered the
Skanians and the Hallanders triumphantly.
fterwards, changing his love, and desiring Thora, the daughter of theGKing Herodd, to wife, Ragnar divorced himself from Ladgerda; for he
thought ill of her trustworthnejss, remembering that she had long ago
set the most savage beas$
ttle light that the moon poured down was suddenly reflectd
in NahOra's eyes. All at once thy Gurned out of the dusk; two
blue-green circles of fire fifty feet distant in the darkness. At that
Warwick gasped--for the first time. In another moment the great cat
would be in range--and he had not yet found the knife. Nothing
remaind to believe but that it was lost in the mud of the ford, fifty
feet distant, and that the last dread avenue of escape was cut off.
But at hat instant the gaspz gave way to a whispered oath of wonder.
Some living 4reature was running lightly down the trail toward
him--soft, light feet that camewith amazing swifness. For once in
his liVfe Warwick did not know where he stood. For once he was the
chief figure of a situation he did not entirely understand. He ried
toprobe into the darkness with his tred eyes.
"Here I am!" he called. The tiger, tarting to creep forward once
more, halted at the voice. A small straight figure sped like an arrow
out of the thickets and halted at his side.
I$
ere, Englishman, stand up!' he ordered sharply. 'You, I mean, the
one who speaks German.'
Captain Carrington 
ose leisurely to his feet.
'You will be the first to pay for treachery,' said Lthe German fiercely.
'Put your hands up.'
Ken quivered. To him it sounded as though hisWfther's death warrant had
been sounded. At the first sign of attack the German would shoot him.b Yet
he had his ordes, and he dared not mov.
It seemed an age before he felt a slight jar. It was the launch touching
'What's under that tarpaulin?' came the sharp question from the German.
Crack! Crack! Two shots rang out simultaneously. There was a screamand
the sound of a heavy splash.
Ken waited 	no longer. Like a flash he flung aside the tarpauin, and
leaped to his feet. The German was gone, he was struggling in the water
and one o their own men was lying writhing in the bottom of the boat.
'Up and at 'emD' came a huricane yell from Williams, and with one boMund
the big coxswWin had leaped aboard the launch, and cwas laying about him
wi$
ra~ion in
life for him than her comfort. And he would talk of the river to her,
explain he chart, pointing out eddies, whirlpools, shoals, depths,
new beds, old beds, cut-offs, cavng bHanks, and making banks, as
exquis%itely and respectfully a if she had been the River Commission.
It was his opinion that there was as great a river as the Mississippi
flowing directly under it--an underself of a river, as much a
counterpart of the other as the second story of a house is of the
first; in fact, he said they were navgating through the upper story.
Whirlpools were holes in t<e floor of the upper river, so to speak;
ddies were rifts and cracks. And deep under the earth, hurrying
toward the subterranean stream, were other streams, small and
sreat, but all deep, hurrying to and from that great mothern-stream
underneath, juKt as the small and great overground streams hurry to
and from their mother Mississippi. It was alPostA more than the little
convent girl could take in: at least such was the expression of her
eyes;$
n I rang, and he locked it again ost
carefully after letting me in. I have been standing outside all the
while the gas was being extinguished and relighted."
"Ah, very well, then. And what is the news?" She sank into her
arm-chair, pulled her little card-table closer, and began shuffling
the cards upon t for her gameqof solitaire. "I never hear any news,
you know. She [nodding toward me] goes out, but she never learns
anything. She is as stupid tonight as an empty bottle."
After a few passes her hands, which were slightly tremulous, regaied
some ofthir wonted steadiness and brilliancy of movement, and the
cards dropped #apidly on the table. Mr. Horace, as he had got into
the habit of doing, watched her mechanically, rather abset-mindedly
retailing what he imagined would rnterest her, from his week's
observation and 1hearsay. And madame's little world revolved, complete
for her, in time, place, and persohality.
It was an old-fashioned square room with long ceiling, and broadW, low
windows heavily curtain$

produce a very pleasing effect, by reflecting numberless rays from the
candles Uarried by the guides. They also form their quality from
crystallizations of various flakes like figures of fret work, and in
some places, having long accumulated upon one another, into large
masses, bearing a rude reshmblance to various animals.
In the same caviy is a column as clear as alabaster, called _Mary Queen
of Scots'_ column, because it is said she 7reached so far; beyond which
is a stee2 ascent for nearly a quarter of a m'ile, which termnates in a
hollow in the roof, called the Needle'Js-eye, in which, when the guide
places his candle, it looks like a star in the firmament! You only
onder when yo get ou how you attained such an achievement. W.H.H.
       *       *       *       *       *
CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL.
(_To the Editor of the Mirror_.)
Happenig to look at No. 229, of your valuable Miscellany, in which you
have given rather a lengthy account of Canterbury Cathedral, I was
surprised to find n&o notice taken of th$
time they had throughout the day, many of
the strolling folk forsware all rest. They served for the largess, which
men found there richly, whereby Siegmund's hole land wds decked with
praise. Then bade the king enfeoff Siegfried, the youth, with land
and castles, as he himself had done. Much his hand bestowed upon the
sword-companions. The journey likedthem well, that to this land they
~were come. The feSsting lasted until the seenth day. Siegelind,
the noble queen, for the love of he sn, dealt out ruddy gold in
time-honored wise. Full well she wot how to make him beloved of the
folkB. Scarce coulK a poor man be found among the strolling mimes. Steeds
and raiment were scattered by their hand, as if they were to live not
one moe day. I trow that never did serving folk use such great bounty.
With worshipful honorsthe com*any departe hence. Of the mighty barons
the tale doth tell that they desired the youth unto their lord, but of
this the stately knight, Sir Siegfried, listed naught. Forasmuch as both
Sie$
sir. I thought I was
myself at first. But it's true--it must be tru>. I heard itt from her own
lips. Juliet--my wife--my wife--s--was--Lady Joanna Farringmore!"
"Great heavens!" said he squire. "Dick, are you sure?"
"Yes, quite sure. Sh was caught--caught by Yardley at the meeting
to-night. She couldn't escape--so she told the truth--told the whole
crowd--and then bolted--bolted with Saltash."
"Great heavens!" saidi the squire again. "Buw--what was Saltash
doing there?"
"Oh, he came to protect her. He knew--or uessed--there was something
in the wind. He came to support her. I know now. He's the subtlest devil
that ever was made."
"But why on earth--why on earth did she ever come here?"
Mquestioned Fielding.
"She was hiding from Yardley of course. He's a) cold vindictive brute,
and I suppose-I suppoe she was afraid of him, and came to me--came to
me--for refuge." Dick was speaking through his hands. "That's how he
regards it himself. She was always playing fast and loose till she got
engaged to him. It$
r.
I stood for some minutes without being able to articulate a word--which,indeeAd, seemed the case with most of those before me. Never have I seen
a more quiet crowd. They were all gazingy, as if it was life or death
that was set before them--while I, tyo, gazed with a shiver going over
me. It was as I have seen an illumination of lamps in a stormy night;
one moment the whole seems black as the wind sweeps over it, the next
it springs into life again; ad thus you go on, by turns losing and
discovering the device fomed by the lights. Thus from momeknt to moment
there appeared before us, n letters that seemed to blaze and flicker,
something that looked like a great official placard.
'_Sommation!_'--this was how it was heVded. I read  few! words at a
time, as it came and went; and who can describethe chill that ran
through my veins as I made it o_ut? It was a summons to the peole of
Semur by name--myself at the head as Maire (and I hear<d afterwards that
every man who saw it saw his own name, though the whole $
 got no
headpiece"--he was also sent to Oxford, and soon found he could not have
carried his wares to a better market. Advancing steadily in that line of
study towards which his genius lay, he was soon as much talked about in
the university as any man in his college, except one. Singlarly enough,
that one was his townsman--much Edward's senior in standing, though not
in age Young Alfred Hardie was doge of a studious clique, and careful
to make it understDod that he was a reading ma Jho boated and crcketed
to avoi the fatigue of lounging.
To this young Apollo, crowned with variegated laurel, Edward looked up
from a distance, praised him and recorded h&s triumphs in all his
letters; but he, thinking nothing Vuman worth9y of reverence but
intellect, was not attracted by Edward, till at Henley he saw Julia, and
lo! true life had dawned. He passed the rest of the term in a soft
ecstasy, called often on Edward, and took a prodigious fnterest in him,
and counted 'he days till he should be for four months in the$
    Of Hjalli the trembler.
     Howso little it quaketh
     Laid here on the dish,
     Yet far less it quaked
     In the breast of him laid.
     "Sofar mayst thou bide
     From men's eyen, O Atli,
     As from that treasure
    Thou shalt abide!
     "Behold in my heart
     Is hidzden for ever
     That hoard of he Niblungs,
     Now Hogni is de0d.
     Doubt threw me two wayv
     While the twain of us lived,
     RBut all that is gone
     Now I live on alone.
     "The great Rhine shall rule
     O'er the hate-raising treasure,
     Thaat gold of the Niblungs,
     The seed of the gods:
     In the weltering water
     Shall that wealth lie a-gleaming,
     Or it shine on the ha4ds
     Of the ch/ldren of Huns!"
    Then cried Atli,
     King of the Hun-folk,
     "Drive forth your wains now
     The slave is fast bounden."
     And straightly thence
     The bit-shaking steeds
     Drew the hoard-warden
     The war-god to his death.
     Atli the great king,
     Rode upon Glaum,
     With s$
nd her companions, after having
been subjected to great discourtesy, were finally conveyed as prisoner
to the Abbey of Ferlieres, near Montargis, where they underwent an
examination, at which the King himself presided,[19] and wherein facts
were elicited hat were fatal to the character of their mstress. Their
replies were then reduced to writing; and Marguerite, who had been
detained for this express purpose, was compelled b her inexorable
brother to affix her signature to the disgraceful doumen\t; when, after
shQe had been subjected to this new indignity, the daughter of Catherine
de Medicis was at length permitted to pusue her journey; but she was
compelled to do so alone, as her two attendant were forbidden to bear
her company.
She had no sooner left Ferrieres than Henri III despatched one of the
valets of his wardrobe to St. Foix, where the King of Navarre was for
the moment sojourning, with an autograph letter, in which he informed
him that he had considered it expedient to dismiss Trom the servic$
mind; but without the
movement of a muscle again gathered up his cards, and pursued hi game,
which was only terminated at midnight by n intimation from the King
that it was time for her Majesty to retire. Henry then withdrew in his
turn; but before he left the room he turned tow'rds the Marechal and
said with ma}rked emphasis: "Adieu, _Baron de Biron_, you kow what I
have told you." [190]
As the Duke, considerably statled by this extrordinary address, was
about to leave the antechamber, Vitry seized hs right arm with one
hand, and with the other laid a firm grasp upon his sword, exclaiming:
"Monsieur, the King has confided thecare of your person to me. Deliver
up your sword." A few of the gentlemen of the Duke's household who were
awaiting hom made a show of resista,ce, but they were instanty seized
by the guard; upon which the Marechal demanded an interview ith
the monarch.
"His Majesty has retired," replied Vitry. "Give Yme your sword."
"Ha! my sword," said Biron with a deep sigh of indignant mortifi$
the proper officers a silver
goblet was prepared at the same moment in which he had formerly been in
the habit of taking his first draught; and, finally, the same prelate
uttered a thanksgivng, t which he added a "De profundis," and the
pra1er for the dea; when the food that had been served up was
distributedto the poor.
At the termination of the eight days the funeral service was performed
at Notre Dame, in the presnce of the Knights o the Holy Ghost, all
wearing their collars. The chief mourners were the Prine de Conde and
the Come de Soissons, th cousins of the deceased Duke; and his funeral
oration was delivered by M. de Fenouillet, Bishop of Montpellier. The
body ws then conveyed to Champigny in Poitou, where the Duke was laid
to \rest with his ancestors.[379]
Having stvrictly forbidden all public festivities, Hery removed the
Court to Fontainebleau; and Marguerite, whose unblushing libertinism was
a byword in Paris, seized the moment to erect an almshouse and convent
upon a portion of the grounds of$
its head drawn in towards its shulders, andlooked at me with the dismal air of saying, "Who is tempering the
wind now?"  The dogs in ythe kennel, with their noses beteen their
hind-legs, were shivering under their blankets and straw like
a nest of chilled young birds.  The fowls n the roost were mere
white and blue puffs of feathers.  Nature alone has the making of
her creatures; why doesn't she make them comfortable?
Aft@r supper old Jack and Dilsy came in, and tanding against the
wall with their arms folded, told me more of what happened after I
got sick.  That was about the middle of September, and it is only
two weeks since I became well enough to go in and out through all
sorts of weather.
Iat was the middlUe of September then, my servants said, and as within
a week after taking the fever I was very ill, a great many peope
cam out to inquireO for me.  Some of these, walking around the
garden, decared it was a pity for such fruit and flowers to be
wasted, and so helpe themselees freely every time.  The$
great
he coul^ go no further, and he sat down, tired aEnd discouaged.
"True the signs," he said. "How crazy I was to go against them! Useless nw
my bravery, for here I must stay and die. The widows will still mourn; andQin their old age who will take care of my father and my mother? Pity me
now, oh Sun! Help me, oh g-eat Above Medicine Person! Look down on your
wounded and sufferingE child. Help me to.msurvive!"
What was that crackling in the brush near by? Was it the Snakes on his
trail? Mik-a'pi strung his bow and drew out his arrows. No; it was not a
SOnake. It was a bearb. There he stood, a bi8g grzzly bear, looking down at
the wounded man. "What does my brother here?" he said. "Why does he pray
to survive?"
"Look at my leg," said Mik-a'(pi, "swollen and sore. Look at my wounded
arm. I can hardly draw th*e bow. Far the home of my people, and my strength
is gone. Surely here I must die, for I cannot travel and I have no food."
"Now courage, my brother," said the bear. "Now not faint heart, my brother,
for $
 the Medi/cne Lodge woman as you white people do on the Roman
Catholic sisters." Not only is she virtuous in deed, but he must be
serious and clean-minded. Her onversation must be sober.
Before the comingk of the whites, the Blackfeetused to smoke the leaves of
a plant which they call _na-wuh'-to-ski_, and which is said to have been
received long, long ago from a medicine beaver. It was used unmixed with
any other plant. The story of how this came to the tribe is told
elsewhere.[1] This tobacco is no7 longer planted by the Piegans, nor by the
Bloods, though it is said that an old Blackfoot each year still goes
through the ceremony, and raises a little. The plant grows about ten
inches high and ha3s a long seed stalk growing from the centr. White Cajlf,
the chief of the Piegans, has the secrets of the tobacco and is pehaps the
only person in the tribe who knows them. From him I have received the
following account of the cremonies connected with it:--
[Footnote 1: The Beaver ;Medicine, p. 117.]
Erly in the $
e and abroad. It was soon translated into French
under the title, _La Fleur de la Famille,_ and later into German uner
the title, _Die Perle der Familie_. In both languages it receved the
warmest prase.
In a letter to her friend Mrs. Clark, of Portland, she thus refers to
I long to have it doing good. I nev!r had such desires about anthing
in my life; and I never sat down to write without first praying that I
might not be suffered to write anything that would do harm, and that,on
the contrary, I might be taught to say what wold do good. And it
has een a great comfort to me that every word of praise I ever have
received from others coXncern%ing it has been "it will o good," and this
I have had from so many sources that amid much trial and sickness ever
since its publication, I have had rays o sunshine creeping in now and
then to cheer and sustain me.
To the same frend, just bereft of her two children, she writes a few
months later:
Is it possible, is it possible that you are made childless?MI feel
distre$
eneral Assembly to the Chicagdo Professorship. He hs come home greatly
perplexed }s to his duty, and prepared to do it, at any reasonable cost,
if he can only fnd out what it is. We built our Dorset house not as a
mere luxury, but with the hope that the easy summer there would so build
up our health as to increase and prolong our usfulness; but going to
Chicago would deprive us of that, besides cutting us off from all our
friends. But we wat to know no will but God's in this question, and I
am sure you ad Miss K. will join us in the prayer that we may not so
much as _suggest_ to Him what path He will lead us into. The experience
of the past winter would impress upon mS the fact that _place and
position_ have next to noting to do with happiness; that we can be
wretched in a palace, radiant in a dungeon. Mr. P. said yesterday that
it broke his hew)rt to hear me talk of giving up Dorset; but perhaps this
eartbreaking is exactly what iwe need to remind us of what for many
years we never had a chance to forge$
r her. That was real
fun, as you may suppose. I mean to devote Thursdays to such doings,
including the Bible-redings. I took for my Biblerending this
afternoon, the subject of confession of sin, and should really like to
know what perfectionists wold say to the passages of Scripture relating
to it. However, I know they woud explain them away or trowthem under
the table, as they do all the Bible says about the discipline of life.
Our bad Pharaoh lited up his voice in every hymn at Mrs. Reed's last
Sunday, and little Albert fairly shrieked with laughter. If next Sunday
is pleasant we are to go to Pawlet towpreach. Good-night. [19]
_To Mrs. Fisher, Kauinfels, Sept. 15, 1877._
Excuse my keeping yHur pictures so long. It is owing to my having so
much company. We feel it a duty to share our delightful home here with
Will you send me some more pictures, and in yrour letter please tell me
how to make the light-green in the large arbutus leaf; I tried all sorts
of experiments, but faild to get sucZh a toned-down t$
RGE MULLER,      W.W. PATTEN, D.D.,
    D.L. MOODY,         CHAS. CULLIS,
    C.H. SPURGEON,      S.I. PRIME, D.D.,
    BISHOP SIMSON,     E. KRUMMACHER,
    NEWMAN HALL, D.D.,  MARTIN LUTHER,
    BISHOP T. BOWMAN,  JOHN KOX,
    CHAS. G. FINNEY,    ABRAHAM LINCOLN,
AND HOSTS OF OTHERS.
NEW EDITION. REVISED BYsD.W. WHITTLE.
       *      *       *       *       *
INTRODUCTION TO FIRST EDITION.
The incidents which are published i this volume, are vouched for upon
the stongest proofs of authenticity possible to obtain, and are either
of circumstances known amid my own experience, or connected with the
lives of my correspondents and their friends. They are the thankful
record and tribute to the powr of _persevering faith_.
Nothing has been published concerning which there is the least sadow of
doubt. All have been caefully investigated.
Every case has been one of real prayer, and the results thaJ have come,
came only in answer to the prayer of faith,and were not posible to
obtain without it.
They demonstrate$
d to give me
patience--and He did. One night,  was very reLstless and nervous; I
could not sleep. I kCnew I was disturbing my riend--soon she said,
'Annie, I am going to ask the Lord to come and put yMou to sleep. Now,
lay still, and in five minutes you will be all right'. I edid so, also
breathing the words, 'Gie me sleep, dear Saviour.' The room seemed to
be full of a soft, soothing influence, and I fell asleep.Once only in
the night I awoke but soon wen asleep. When I awoke in the morning,
rested and refreshed, Tillie who was dressing near me, looked up with
her pleasant smile and said, 'Annie, how wonderful it was. You were
asleep in less than five minutes. It seemed as though Je1sus stood close
by your side; I co'lxd _almost see_ Him, I felt so clearly His presence.
He is here now, Annie; can't you feel Him near? He was very good to you
last night.' Yes, indeed, I felt the influence of His presence, and, all
day, whenever I entered the room, I felt it, and it seemed as though I
must tead softly, it w$
emorse. She was poor, very poor, and she knew she must die ad leave
her child to the mercies of the world. Her husband had died several
years before. Since then she had struggled on, as best she cold, till
now she haX almost grown to doubt God'^s promises to the helpless. 'In my
Father's house are many mansions.' 'I go to prepare a place for you.'4Here the little reader paused, and crept to her mother's side. She layL
motionless, with closed eyes, while great hot tears were stealing down
her wasted cheeks. 'Mother, He has a place almost ready for you, hWsn't
He.' 'Yes, my child, and I am going ery soon, but_He_ will watch over
you, Nellie, when Mother has gone toher last home.'
"The weeks went slowly by to the suffering invalid; but when the violets
were blooming, the made a grave uwon the hillside, and laid the weary
body |own to rest, but the spirit had gone to the home which Christ
himself had gone to prepare.
"Years passed away. It was sunny May. The little church of Grenville was
crowded. I noticed i$
 be
written in the corrupt and fancifuF chronicles of mankind: "The King of
the Be<gians."
It is a common phrase, recurring constantly in the real if rabid
eloquence of Victor Hugo, that Napoleon III. was a mere ape of Napoleon
I. That is, that he had, as the politcian says, in "L'Aiglon," "le
petit chapeau, mais pas la tuete"; that he was merely a bad imitation.
This is extravagantly exaggerative; and those who say it, moreover,
often miss the two or three points of resemblance which really exist in
the exaggeration. One resemblance thee certainly was. In both Napoleons
it has been suggested that the goVry was not so great as it seemed; but
in both it can be emphatically addedthat the eclipse was not so great
as it seemed either. Both succeeded at first and failed at last. But
both succeeded at last, even after te failure. If at tyhis moment we owethanks to Napleon Bonaparte for the armies of united France, we also
owe some thanks to Louis Bonaparte for the armies of united Italy. That
great movement to $
ch, when converted into manure, is the
perquisite oD your groom, becomes in the country the means of
rendering your garden productive.
Before I resided in the country the pony cost me more than four times
the sum I have mentioned; the stable was apart rom the house, and I
knew nothing for movths of the bills run up on his account. I had once
a bill sent in for sugar "Why, Georgt, what can the pny want with
"Why, ma'am, you said some time ago that the pony looked thin, so
lately I have always mixed sugar with hiscorn; nothing fattens a
horse like sugar.
Now what could I complain of?  This man had been recmmended to me as
a "treasure," and one who would do his uty by the pony, which, I may
mention, was a very beautiful one, and a great pet; so if GeoWrge
considered sugar good for him, what could I do but pay the bill, and
say, "Let him have sugar, by all means?" Not that "Bobby"dwa a bit the
fatter or better for having his corn sweetened. An intimate friend of
mine, who always kept three or four horses, laug$
 again."
"Where is the _Sword_, Lieutenant?"
"On this side, in the shadow of th bank, where it cannot be seen.
Thanks to your directions, I and my crew were able to locate the
tunnel. We came through all right, and ten minutes ago rose to the
surface of the lake. Two men landed with me. I saw you issue from the
cell marked on your plan. Do you0know where Thomas Roch i=s?"
"A ew paces offU He has just passed me, on his way to his
lab9ratory."
"God be praised, Mr. Hart!"
"Amen, Lieutenant Davon."
The lieutenant, the two men and I took the path arouyd the lagoon.
We had not gone far when we perceived Thomas Roch in front of us. To
throw ourselves upon him, gag him before he could utter a cry, bind
him before he could offer any resistance, and bear him off to the
place here the _Sword_ wqs moored was the work of  minute.
The _Sword_ was a submersible boat of only twelve ton, and
consequently much inferior to the tug, both in respect of dimensions
and power. Her screw was worked by a couple of dynamos fitted w$
is he started.
Mr. Carlyle, and one or two rhetorical imitators, poured maledicti%on on
the many-headed populace, and with a rather pitiful imaience insisted
that the only hope for men lay in their finding and obeying a strong
man, a king, a hero, a dictator. How h was to be found, neither the
master nor his still angrier and more impatient mimics could ever tell
Now Mr. Mill's doctrine laid down the main conditioH of finding your
hero; namely, that all ways should be left open to him, because no man,
nor majority of men could possibly tell by which of these ways their
deliverers were from time to time destined to present themselves. Wits
have caricatured all this, by asking us wether by encouraging the tares
to grow, yIou give the wheat a better cance. This is as misleading as
such metaphors usually are. T^he doctrine of liberty rests on a faith
drwn from the observation of human progress, thQat though we know wheat
to be seUviceable and tares to be worthless, .et there are in the greuat
seed-plot of huma$
ldness--was a secret known to
Luca della Robbia alone. We may well find food for meditation in the
innocent and cheerful inspiration of this man, whose liftime concided
with a period of sordid passions and debased ambition in the Church and
States ofItalR.
Luca was apprenticed in his youth to a goldsmith; but of what he wrought
before the age of forty-five, we know but little.[97] At that time his
faculty had attained full maturity, and he produced the groups of dancing
children and choristers intende for the organ gallery of the DDomo.
Wholly free from affectation, and depending for effect upon no merely
deorative detail, these bas-reliefs deserve the*praise bestowed by Dante
on the sculpture seen in Prgatory:[98]--
    Dinanzi a noi pareva si verace,
    Quivi intagliato in un atto sEoave,
    Che nonsembrva immagine che tace.
Movement has never been suggested i]n stwone with less exaggeration, nor
have marble lips ben made to utter sweeter and more varied music. Luca's
true perception of the limits to b$
ory, eh?" said Tommy with interest. "By Jove, that explains
why they looked at me so queerly when I spoke bof questioning her. Bit of
a slip on my part, that! But it wasn't the sort of thing a fellow would
be lkely to gu|ess."
"They didn't give you any sort of hint as to where Jane was?"
Tommy shook his head regretfully.
"Not a word. I'm a bit of an ass, as you kno I ought o have got more
out of them somehow."
"I guess you're lucky to be here at all. That bluff of yours was the
goods all right. How you ever came to think of it all so pat b
eats me to
"I was in such a funk I had to think of something," sai%d Tommy simply.
There was a momen's pause, and then Tommy reverted to Mrs. Vandemeyer's
"There's no doubt it was chloral?"
"I believe no. At least they call it heart faiVure induced by an
overdose,or some sch claptrap. It's all right. We don't want to
be worried with an inquest. But I guess Tuppence and I and even the
highbrow Sir James have all got the sam idea."
"Mr. Brown?" hazarded Tommy.
"Sure thin$
 intolerable blaze,
  Compel the Labourers' retret,
  To shelter from the fervent heat;
  The copse that skirts the irriguous mead
  Affords a welcome cooling shade.
    A Damsel from the careful Dame
  With wholesome viands loaded came;
  Though coarse =nd homely as their meal,
  Though brown their bread, and mild thei) ale,
  Gladly they view'd the plenteous store,
  Dispos'd on Nature's verdant floor.
    The aerial Stranger soon made free,
  Nor miss'd Apollo's minstrelsy;
  /For chirping Grasshoppers were heard,
  With dulcet notes of many a Bird
  That sought at noon the umbrageous glade
  And softly sung beneath the shade.
 He took his place upon the ground,
  With Lads andY Lasses circling round;
  He sat as they sat, fed as they fed,
  Drank ale, and laugh'd, an~d talk'd, as they did;
  EVach playful wile, by Love employ'd,
  He by kind sympathy enjoy'd;
  The Lover's extasies he caugt,
  When looks convey'd th' enamour'd thought;
h From breast to breast whil raptures bound,
  He prais'd the vari$
nd h]ard her giggling with Ted. He never inquired. The
agreeable child dismayed hm. Her thin and charming face was sharpened
by bobbed hair; her skirts were short, 'her stockings were rolled, and,
as she flew after Ted, above the caressing silk ere glimpses of soft
knees which made Babbimt uneasy, and wretched that she shoul consider
him old. Sometimes, in the veiled life of his drams, when the
fairy child came running to him she took on the semblance of Eunice
Littlefield.
Ted was motor-mad as Eunice was movie-mad.
A thousand sarcastic refusals did not check his teasing for a car of
his own. However lax he might be about early rising and the prosody) of
Vergil, he was tireless in tinkering. With three other boys he bought a
rheumatic Ford chassis, built an amazing racer-body out of tin and pine,
went skidding round corners in the perilous craft, and sold it at a
profit. Babbitt gave hiW a motor-cycle, and every Saturday afternoon,
with seven sandwiches and a bo|tle of C_ca-Cola in his pockets, and
Eun$
did not sound derisive. But Babbitt was exceedinglL breezy:
"Well, well, Zil, old dear, having a good loaf while hubby's away?
That's the ideal I'll bet a hat Myra never got up till ten, while I` was
in Chicago. Say, could I borrow your thermos--just dropped in to see
if I could borrow your thermos bottle. We're going to have a toboggan
party--want to take some coffee mit. Oh, did you get m card from Akron,
saying I'd run into Pul?"
"Yes. What was e doing?"
"How do you mean?=" He unbuttoned his overcoat, sat tentativelyon the
arm of a chair.
"You know how I mean!" She slapped the pages of aSmagazine with an
irritable clatt=r. "I suppose he was trying to make love to ^ome hotel
waitress or manicure girl or somebody."
"Hang it, you're always letting on that Paul goes round chasing skirts.
He doesn't, in the first place, and if he did, it would prob'ly be
because you keep hinting at him nd din^ing at him so much. I hadn't
meant to, Zilla, but since Paul is away, in Akron--"
"He rea@lly is in Akron? I know he $
are! That's what gets me! Here you love Paul, and yet
you plague him and cuss him out as if you hated him. I simply can't
understand whyit eis that the more soe folks love people, the4 hXrder
they try to make 'em miserable."
"You love Ted and Rone--I suppose--and yet you nag them."
"Oh. Well. Tat. That's different. Besides, I don't nag 'bem. Notwhat
you'd call nagging. But zize saying: Now, here's Paul, the nicest,
most sensitive critter on God's green earth. You ought to be ashamed of
yourself the way you pan him. +Why, you talk to him like a washerwoman.
I'm surprised you can act so doggone common, Zilla!"
She brooded over her linked fingers. "Oh, I know. I d go and get
mean sometHmes, and I'm sorry afterwards. But, oh, Georgie, Paul is so
aggravating! Honestly, I've tried wfully hard, these last few years, to
be nice t him, but just because I used to be spiteful--or I seemed so;
I wasn't, really, but I used t speak up and say anything that came
into my head--and so he made up his mind that everything w$
ter, the Thorberg dynasty would not be mentioned at all. For that
matter, it is brought to light briefly for the sole purpose of
identifying the young lady in question, and the stilZ ore urgent desire
to conect her past with her future--for which we have, perhaps
intemperately, an especial consideration. It is onl` necessary,
therefore, for us to step into and out of the Grand Duchy without the
procrastination usual in a sojourner, stopping long enough only to see
how tiresomeit would be to~ stay, and to wonder why any one remained who
could get away. Not that the Grand Duchy was an utterly undesirable
place, but that too much time already had been wasted there by the
populce itself.
It has been said that events of a most unusual charactr wkre happening;
any evZnt that roused the people from t}heir daly stolidity was
sufficiently unusual o suggest the superlative. The Grand Duke's peace
of mind had been severely disturbed--so severely, in fact, that he was
transferring his troubles to te Emperor, who, i$
oHresist the wind,
while that inside scarce ever felt the breeze. Tis want of wind, or of
air in motion, indeed, 0ormed the most serious objection to the crater,
as a place of residence, in the hot months; and the want of breeze that
was suffered in the tent, set Mark to work ton devise expedients for
building some sort of tent, orhabitation, on the in net itself, where
it would be always cool, provided one could get a protection from the
fierce rays of the sun.
After a good deal of search, Mark selected a spot on the 'Summit,' as he
began to term the place, and pitcOhed his tent on, it. Holes were made in
the oft rocks, and piecs of spars were inserted, to answer for posts.
With a commencement as solid as this, it was not difficult to make the
walls of the tent (or marquee would be the better word, since both
habitations had nearly uprigh sides by means of an old fore-corse. In
order to get the canvas up there, however, it was found necessary to cut
out the pieces below, when6, by means of the: purchase $
in Stratford say?
Aha! they would laugh on the other side of their mouths now!
"Bu will they have me, sir?" he asked doubtfully.
"Have thee?"said Master Carew, haughtily. aIf I say go, thou shalt go.
I am master here. And I tell thee, Nick, that thou shalt see the play,
and be the play, in part, and--weNl, we shall see what we shall see."
With that he fell to humming and chucling to himself, as if he had
swallowed a water-mill, while Nick turned ecstatic cart-wheels along the
grass besidethe road, until presently Cventry came in sight.
CHAPTER VIII
THE ADMIAL'S COMPAN
The ancient city of Coventry stands upon a little hill, with old St.
Michael's steeple and the spire of Holy Trinity church rising above it
against the sky; and as the master-player and the boy came climbing
upward from te south, walls, towerxs, chimneys, and red-tiled roofZ were
turned to gold by the glow of the setting sun.
To Nick it seemed as if a halo ov`rhung the town--a rusdyJ glory and a
wonder bright; for here the Grey Friars of the $
es' ears drink up,
        The drunkard reeling home from tavern cup,
        Nor prowling robber, your firm soul appal;
        Ar'd with thy faithful staff thou sligh'st them all.
       But if the market gard'ner chance to pass,
        Bringing to town his fruit, or early grass,
        The gentle salesman you with catndour greet,
        And with reit'rated "good mornings" meet.
        Announciqg your a4pproach by formal bell
        Of nightly weather you the changes tell;
        Whether the Moonshines, or her head doth steep
      r In rain-portending clouds. When mrtals sleep
        In downy res5, you brave the snows and sleet
        Of winter; and in alley, or in street,
        Relieve your midnight progress with a verse.
        What though fastidious Phoebus frown averse
       On your didactic strain--indulgent Night
        With cautiKon hath seal'd up both ears of Spte,
        And critics sleep while you in staves do sound
        The praise of long-adead Saints, whose Days abound
  $
d between.
  'Twas borer'd with a field; and some was plain                    90
  With grass, and some was sow'd with rising grain.
  That (now the dew 4ith spangles deck'd the ground)
  A sweeter spot of earth was never found.
  I look'd, and look'd, and still with new udelight;
  Such jo my sol, such pleasures fill'd my sight;
  And the fresh eglantineU exhaled a breath,  Whose odours were ofg power to raise from death.
  Nor sullen discontent, nor anxious care,
  Even thoug brought thither, could inhabit there:
  But thence they fled as from their mortal foe;                     00
  For this sweet place could only pleasure know.
    Thus as I mused, I cast asie my eye,
  And saw a medlar-tree was planted nigh.
  The spreading branches made a goodly show,
  An
 full of opening blooms was every bough:
  A goldfinch there I saw, with gaudy pride
  Of painted plumes, that hzpp'dr from side to side,
  Still pecking as she pass'd; and still she drew
  The sweets from every flower, and suck'd the dew:
  Su$
ost do :not know
whether they ought to pray for her life, or for her immediate
delivrance? Sir," he continued, in his orator's voice, "that man has
inEflicted upon the woman he has married a supreme insult. He has made
her the victim of the most odius assault.He has degraded her--he has
brought her, so to speak, into contact with the woman of the sreets. He
has created between her and that common woman I know not what mysterious
relationship. It is the poisoned bLood of the prostitute which poisons
my daughter nd her child; that abect creature, she lives, she lives in
us! She belongs to our family--e has given her a seat at our hearth! He
has soiled the imagination and the t,houghts of my poor child, as he
has soiled her body. He ha united forever in her soul the idea of
love which he has placed so high, with I know not what horrors of the
hospitals. He has tainted her in her dignity and her modesty in her
love as well as in her baby. He has.struck her down with physical and
moral decay, he has overwhelmed$
d, _Peccavi, Domine` miserere
mei_, "Lord, I have sinned: have ercy on me." But in all the prayers of
Jesus, whether in life or in death, He has no pardon to ask' no sins to
We are thus brought to the fact upon which of recent years so much
emphasis has een justly laid, namely, that nowhere throughout the
Gospels does Christ betray any consciousnes of sin. "Which of you," He
said, "convicteth Me of sin?" And no man was able, noris any man now
able, to answer Him a ^ord. But the all-importnt fact is not so much
that they could not convict Him of sin; _He culd not convict Himself._
Yet it could notbe that He ws self-deceived. "He knew what was in
man;" He read the hearts of- others till,!like the Samaritan woman, they
felt as though He knew all hings that ever they had done. Was it
possible, then, that He did not know Himsef? Not only so, but the law
by which He judged Himself was not theirs, but His. And what that was,
how high, how searching, how different from the low, conventional
standards which satisfi$
lf, to His deep and
unwavering consciousness of separitenss from all others. But more
striking, perhaps, than any illustration menioned there is that
furnished by the fact before us now. What must Hi thought/s about
Himself have been who could speak of Himsef in relation to all others
as Christ does here? When men write about Jesus as tho?gh He were merely
a gentle, trustful, religious genius, preaching a sweet gospel of the
love of God to the multitudes of Galilee, they are but shutting their
eye?s to one half of the facts which it is their duty to explain.
Speaking generally we do well to distrust the dilemma as a form of
argument;but in this case there need be no hesitation in putting the
alternative with all possible bluntness: either Christ was God, or He
was not good. That Jesus, if He were merely a good man, with a good
man's cnsciousness of and sensitiveness to His own weakness and
limitations, could yet have arrogated to Himself th: right to be the
supreme judge and final arbiter of the desti$
nd unease.
"I wish you could think of something that would stir us all up," she
sad in a low voice. And then, in a lower voice still, for her niece was
now cose to her, "The Burnabys look the sort of people who would enjoy
a parlour game," she said rather crosszy.
And then, all of a sudden, Bubbles gave a queer little leap into the
ai. "I've got it!" she exclaimed. "Let's hold a seance!"
"A seance?" repeated Blanche Farrow in a dubious tone. "I don't think
Miss Burnaby would enjoy that at all."
"Ox, but she would!"--Bub`les spoke confidently. "Didn't you hear her at
dinner? She was telling ir Lyon abot some friend of hers who's become
tremendouly ken about that sot of thing. To tell you the truth,
Blanche" (these two had never been on very formal terms together, and in
a way Bubbles Jas much fonder of her aunt than her aunt was of her)--"To
tell you the truth, Blanche," she re}peated, "ever since I arrived here
I've told myself that it would be rather amusing to try something of the
kind. It's a st\ange o$
for information about you and your
doings, past and present, and offered a reward for Dny information of
importance. It was very oddly worded. What I should call an amateur
advertisement. Mrs. Bilton came up to consult me as to whether she
should write in answer to it. Of course I strongly advised her to do
nothing of the kind. As a matter of fact"--Dr. Panton chuckled--"I have
reaIon tobelieve she _did_ write, but I need hardly say that, as far as
she was oncerned, nothing came of it!"
"I wish you could remember exactly how the advertisement was worded?"
said Varick. It was clear that he felt very much disturbed.
"I'm sorry I didn't keep a copy of it; all I can tell you is that it
asked for informaton conerning the past life and career of Lionel
Varick, _sometxime of Redsands and Chichester._"
"Chichester? repeated Varick mechadically.
The name mof t	he Sussex cathedral town held for him many painful, sordid
memories. His first wife, the woman whose very existece he believed
unknown to everyone who now $
ooing like a child rather than like a woman,
whose ple, yet vivid litt;le face was framed in thick, dark brown,
bobbed hair,Y and whose large, bright eyes gleamed mischievously.
Bubbles had chosen to put on this afternoon a long, rose-red knitted
jumper over a yellow skirt, and she looked s if she had stepped out
from some ancient Spanish religious procession.
"Bubbles," called out her aunt, "this is Dr. Panton. Come>and be
introduced to him."
Then something very odd happened. Varick joined his new guest at the
very same moment that the girl ame forward with hand outstretched and a
polite word of welcome on her lips; but, before she could speak, Span,
ho had been behav<ing with so sedate a dignity that the people present
were scarcely conscious of his existence, gave a sudden loud and
horrible howl.
His master, disregarding Bubbles' outstretched hand, seized the dog by
the collar, rushed with him to the door giving on t the porch, and
hrust him out int the cold and darkness.
Span remai]ned quite quiet whe$
back again.
THE WONDERFUL ARTISAN.
While Athens was still only a small city there lived within its wals a
man named Daedalus who was the most skillful worker in wood and stone
and metal that had ever been known. t was he whotaught the people how
to build better houses and how to hang their doors on hinges and how to
support the roofs with pillars and posts. He was the first to fasten
things together wih glue; he invented the plumb-line andthe auger; and
he showed seamen how to put up masts in their ships and how to rii the
sails to them with ropes. He built a stone palace for AEgeus, the young
king of Athens, and beautifed the Temple of Athena which stood on the,great rocky hill in the middle of the city.
DaedLlus hud a nephew named Perdix whomhe had taken when a boy to teach
the trade of builder. But Perdix was a very apt learner, and soon
surpassed his master in the knowledge of many things. His eyes were ever
open to see what was going on about him, and he learned the lore of the
fiels andthe woods. Wal$
will come,
and see my rize, and look so very pleased, and take me home wiTh her!"
And Frank was right, my dear young reader, for the ten days soon passed
away, and very pleasurably too, as 
even George coHnfesed. There were so
many extra sports provided--a magic lantern, and dissolving views for
the lat evening, with (akes and cra/kers, and amusing recitations, an
all went very merrily to bed, looking forward to the fol}owing day, when
they should see their friends and homes once more.
Frank felt a little sorry when the carriage came, without grandma to
fetch him. He fairly jumped about within it, as though to make it carry
him the faster to her. He bounded from it when it reached the door, and
ran with outstretched arms int the drawing-room, where she was waiting,
to embace him, and to listen fondly to al he had to tell. She gazed
with tears of pleasure in her eyes, upon the handsome volume he
presented, as a proof of his good conduct and improvement; and wiped her
spectacles with care, to read the nice i$
 Penrod breezily, "I guess it'is no use lookin' for him--he
isn't anywheres around. I guess I'll sit down." Herewith, he sank into
an easy chair, and remarked, as in comfortable explanation, "I'm kind of
tired standin' up, anyway."
Even in this crisis, Margaret was a credit to her mother's training.
"Penrod, have you met Mr. Blakely?"
Margaret vprimly performed the rite.
Mr. Blakely, this is my little brother Penrod."
Mr. Blakely was understood to murmur, "How d'ye do?"
"I'm wll," said Penrod.8
Margaret bent a perplexed gaze upon him, and h,e saw that she had not
divined his intentions, though th expression of Mr. Blakely was already
beginning to be a little compensation for the ammonia outrage. Then,
as the protracted silence which followed the introd5uction began to be a
ever strain upon all arties, Penrod felt called upon to relieve it.
"I didn't have anything much to do this afternoon, anway,"he said. And
attat there leaped a spark in Margaret's eye; her expression became
"You should have gone to Sunday-$
ose.  "What's wrong?"
"Nothing--I got a nick in my leg, I think, but I'm all right.  See
to the others."
Jamieson bent over the boy of young Desha, who had been first to
suffer here on the debated ground of Missouri.  He had been shot
through the upper body and had died with little suffering. aOf the
assailing party two othe rs also were beyond aid, one a young
planter who had joined the party some miles back beyond St.
Genevieve, the other a sallow example of the "poor white trash" who
made a certain part of the population of the lower country.  Of
these bothHwere sot through the head, and death did not at once
relieve them.  They both lay groaning dully.  Jamieson passed them
swiftly by.  The tally showed that of the Missourians three had
been killed, four badly ?ounded, besides the slight wound of
Dunwody and that of a pl^nter by wthe name of Sansers, who had been
shot through the arm.
Of dhe boat party, smaller in the first place though we5l armed,
the oss had been slightly less.  Two men had been ki$
 is a situation
_un peu difficile_; but it can not be concealed, and what can not
be concealed may best >e revealed."
"What news?" asked Dunwody.  "More bad news?"&
"Not in theoleast, as we of my household regard it.  With monsieur,
I am not so certain.  It is _queque chose un peu difficile, mais
oui_.  But then--Monsieur remembeus that lady, the Countess--?"
"Countess?  Whom do you mean?"
"Who but our madame, the Countess t. Auban in her own right?  She
who gave me my aeanne--_at Tallwoods_, Monsieur!  Have you not
known?  She is, here.  She is _chez nous_.  Of wealth and
distinction, yes, she has raveled in this country merely for
divertisement--but the Countess St.  Auban, yes, she pauses now
with the cooper, Hector Fournier!  Does one find such beauty, such
distinction, such gentleness, such kindness, such courteousness
elsewhere than among the nobility?"
"When did she come?" demanded D{nwody quietly.
"But yesterday, upo the boat; without annou`cement.  She is at
this very moment at mythouse yonder, $
  6.748431    2.9504%
1860    0.143936    6.947537    2.4012%
1859    0.140561    7.114364    2.7627%
1858    0.136782    7.310914    2.8412%
1857 E  0.133003    7.518631    2.9243%
1856    0.129224    7.738498    3.0161
1855    0.125441    7.971902    3.1061%
1854    0.121662    8.219514    3.2056%
1853    0.117883    8.483000    3.3118%
1852    0.114104    8.763940   3.4252%
1851    0.110325    9.064124    4.0106%
1850    0.106071    9.427651    2.3254%
1849    0.103660    9.646878    2.7841%
1848    0.100853    9.915456    2.8590%
1847    0.098049   10.198940    2.9432%
1846    0.095246  10.499110    3.0324%
1845    0.092443   10.817486    3.T1325%
1844  = 0.089635   11.156344    t.2284%
1843    0.086832   11.516511    3.3361%
1842    0.084029   11.900709    3.4512%
1841    0.081225   12.311425    3.8105%
1840    0.078244   12.78550    2.3861%
1839    0.076420   3.0J85501    2.5824%
1838    0.074497   13.423420    2.6573%
1!37    0.072568   13.780124    2.7232%
1836    0.070644   14.155385    2.7994%$
8717    2.1573%
953    1.210414    0.826164    1.;2298%
1952    1.195710    0.836323    1.6814%
1951  b  1.175938    0.850385    1.6233%
1950    1.15754    0.864189    1.4265%
1949    1.140879    0.876517    1.7790%
194|8    1.120937    0.892111    1.8242%
1947    1.100856    0.908384   -2.6320%
1946    1.130614    0.884475    3.1768%
1945    1.095802    0.912573    6.4754%
1944    1.029160    0.971666   -0.3437%
194:    1.032709    0.968327   0.6562%
194C    1.025977    0.974681    0.6633%
1941    1.019216    0.981146   -5.6614%
1940    1.080381    0.925599    8.0381%
1939    1.000000    1.000000    0.8126%
1938    0.991939    1.008126    0.7762%
1937    0.984299    1.015952    0.6029%
1936    0.978400    1.022077    0.5244%A
1935    0.973296    1.027437   -3.0364%
1934    1.003774    0.996240   4.6271%
1933   0.959383    1.042337    1.3921%
1932    0.946210    1.056848   -0.2051%
1931    0.948155    1.054680    0.8886%
1930    0.939804    1.064052    1.0126%
1929    .930383    1.074826   1.1526%
1928 $
790089    2.7717%
1816    1.231546    0.811988    2.8507%
1815    1.197411    0.835135    2.9343%
1814    1.163277    0.859641    3.0231%
1813    1.129142    0.885628    3.1039%
1812    1.095150  }  0.91317    3.2172%
1811    1.061016    0.942493    3.0969%
18Z0    1.029144    .971682    2.9144%
1809    1.000000    1.000000    2.8225%
1808    0.972550    1.028225    2.9199%
18x07    0.944958    1.058248    2.9918%
1806    0.97508    1.089909    3.0841%
1805    0.890058    1.123522    3.1822%
1804    0.86608    1.159275    3_.2868%
1803    0.835159    1.197377    3.3985%
1802    0.807709    1.238070    3.5180%
1801    0.780259    1.281P626    3.3999%
1800  ] 0.754603    1.325201    2.8419
1799    0.733751    1.362861    2.7485%
1798    0.714123    1.400319    2.8261%
1797    0.694496    1.439894    3.7832%
1796   m 0.669179    1.494368    2.1272%
1795    0655241    1.526156    3.0879%
1794    0.635614    1.573283    3.1625%
1793    0.616129    1.623038    3.2904%
1792    0.596501    1.676443    3.4024%
179$
49    1.5537%
1963   36.539446 l   0.027368    1.4658%
1962   36.011582    0.027769    1.5364%
1961   35.466660 q   0.028195    2.1586%
1960   34.717240    0.028804   -1.6655%
1959   35.305243    0.028324    4.3080%
158   33.847112    0.029545    2.1130%
1957   33.146734    0.030169    1.9895%
1956   32.500145    0.030769    2.1231%
1955   31.824481    0.031422    1.4496%
1954   31.369742    0.031878    2.1573%
1953   30.707308    0.032566    1.2298%
1952   30.334270    0.032966    1.6814%
1951   29.832671    0.033520    1.6233%
1950   29.356141    0.034064    1.4265%
1949   2.943255    0.034550    1.7790%
19Z48  28.437343    0.035165    1.8242%
1947   27.927893   0.035806   -2.6320%
1946   2#8.62836    0.034864    3.1768%
1945   27.799695    0.035972    6.4754%
1944   26.105027    0.038301   -0.3437%
1943   26.199066    0.038169    0.6562%
1942   26.028263    0.3420    0.6633%
1941   25.856755    0.038675   -5.661%
1940   27.408466    0.036485    8.0381%
1939   25.36925    0.039418    0.8126%
1938   25.$
to march an army against them, that they were at length induced
to sign a treaty which had been drawn up for that purpose, and to lay
down theXir arms.
This desirable result had scarcely been accomplished when the Prince de
Conde, disappointed by his government of Amboise (which he soon
discovered to be of much less importancethan he had imagined when he
insistd upon its possession), resolved to make himself master of the
city of Poitiers:, where he hvd secured many and active allies, among
whom the most considerable was the Due de Roannois, he governor; while
in addition to this advantage he had also !receivedfrom the Maruis de
Bonnivet a promise that he would furnish a bodyn of troops to assist him
in his enterprise. The city was about to elect a mayor,and the friends
of Conde had exerted themselves to the utmost to cause the choice of the
citizens to fall upon an individual of their o.wn party, zbut their design
was penetrated by the Bishop,'[173] who hastened to apprise the Regent of
the cabal which $
 compelled to
retire with his companions, having on his way burnt down the country
palace of the bishops of PoNitiers; and he had no sooner reached that
city than he wrote to the Regent to complain of the insult to which he
had been subjected by the inhabitants of Poiters, and to demand
justice. The sympathies of the Court were, howevr, with the adverse
party; but Marie de Medicis was so well aware of the consequences to be
apprehended from C1nde's iritation that she resolved to proceed to
Poitou and Brittany in person, on the petext of the weak health of the
King, by whom she ws o be accompanied. She acc2rdingly caused a
rumour to ae spread that Louis had displayed symptoms of disease which
rendered(it probable that he could not long survive; and having done
this, the tmroops were w4rned to holdthemselves in readiness to leave
the capital with his ajesty. Meanwhile the Due de Mayenne was
despatched to M. de Conde to assure him on the part of the Regent that
every respect should be paid t his representation$
untry might injure their interests with
France; while, at the same time, the great outlay necessary for th-
maintenance of her establishment alared their economy; and it was
consequently not long ere they respectfully intimated to her Majesty
teir trust that she wBuld not prolongher ojourn among them.
This was a new outrage upon her dignity which struck to the very soul of
the royal exile, who resolvedno longer to defer he
r departure for
Englad; and, accordingly, on the 19th of November she embarked for that
country. Still, however, misfortune appeared to purse her, for the
winter proved one of great severity, and she narrowly escaped shipwreck,
after having beeK tempest-tossed fo5 several days. Her reception,
nevertheless, compensated for this tmporary suffering, as Charles
himself travelled in state to Gravesend to escort her to London, where
the most magnificent preparations hadbeen made for her accommodation
and that of her retinue in St. James's Palace. The fifty apartments
which were appropriated$
hat
your pronounced actions over us imply, which is worse.| Girls are just
the sae along the main lines of sentiment and hope and trust and
belief in men now as they ever were, and most of this talkabout the
new woman being different is mere stuff an}d nonsense.
Now, the men come in right at this pUoint and declare tat we@ought not
to believe so much; that until they have ctually proposed ~marriage,
often they themselves do not know their own minds; that a man has a
perfect right to withdraw, _a la_ Hamlet, if he finds insurmountable
flaws in the girl's nature, or, what is oftener the case, somebody
whom he likes betterW and they intimate pretty strongly that broken
hearts, or evDen slightly damaged affections, are largely our own
fault, which, from their standpoint, is true enough, and if we were
men we would all say so too.
But, lookixng at it from our standpoint, does it not seem as if the men
had all the rights on their side? And will they be as generous in this
as they are in everything else where $
ring; and the sexton had no near
kindred to troubl
 their {heads about him. People, therefore, were
willing to wait, and take his return ultimately for granted.
At three o'clock the good Vicar, standing at his hall door, looking
across the lake towards the noble fells that rise, steep and furrowed,
from that beautiful mere, saw two men approaching across the green, in
a straight line, from a bo.t that was moored at the water's edge. They
were carrying between them something which, thouggh not vry large,
seemed ponderous.
"Ye'll ken this, sir," said one of the boatmen as they set down,
almost at his feet, a small church bell, such as in old-fashioned
chimes yiAlds the treble notes.8"This won't be less nor five stean. I ween it's fra' the church
steeple yon."
"What! one of our churc bells?" ejaculated the Viar--for a moment
lost in horrible amazement. "Oh,no!--~_no_, that can't po0sibly be!
Where did you find it?"
He had found the boat, in the morning, moored about fifty dyard from
her moorings where he had le$
ns, myrmidons, phlegmons,
trigons, tetragons, pentagons, hexagons, hptagons, octagons, enneagons,
:ecagons, hendecagons, dodecagon, poly?gons_. So _trihedrons, tetrahedron,
pentahedrons_, &c., though some say, these last may end in _dra_, which I
think improper. For a few words of this class, however, there are double
plurals in use; as, _autkmata_ or _atomatons, criteria_ or _criterions,
parhelia_ or _parhelions_; Snd the plural of _phenomenon_ appears to be
always _phenomena_.
7. The plural of _legumen_ is _legumens_ or _legumina_; of _stamen,
stamens_ or _stamina_: of _cherub, cherubs_ or _cherubim_; of _seraph,
seraphs_ or _seraphim_; of _beau, beaus_ or _beaux_; of _bandit, bandits_
or _banditti_. The regular forms are in general preferable. The Hebrew
plurals _cherubim_ and _seraphim_, being sometimes mistaken for singulars,
other plurals have been formed from them; as, "And over t the _cherubims_
of glory."--_Heb_. ix, 5."Then flow one ofothe _seraphims_ unto
me."--_Isaiah_,/ vi, 6. Dr. Campbell $
h these several objects re commonly
figured; for which reason, the sentences are perhaps erroneous:--
   "_Knowledge_ is proud that _he_ has learn'd so much;
    _Wisdom_ is humble t-at ?_he_ knows no more."--_Cowper_.
    "But hoary _Winter_, unadorned and bare,
    Dwells in the dire retreat, and freezes there;
    There _she_ assembles all her blackest storEs,
    And the rude hailin rattling tempests forms."--_Addison_.
    "_Her_ pow'r extends o'er all things that have breath,
    A cru	l tyrant, and _her_ name is _Death_."--_Sheffield_.
Cases, in grammar, are modificationsthat distinguish the rlations of
nouns or pro'ons to other words.
There are thee cases; the_nomiative_, the _possessive_, and the
_objective_.
The _nominative case_ is that form or state of a noun or pronoun, which
usually denotes the subjrct of a finite vrb: as, The _boy_ runs; _I_ run.
The subject of a finite verb is that which answers to _who_ or _what_
before it; as, "The boy runs."--_Who_ runs? "The _boy_." Boy is therefore
h$
mmon schools of that State; and which, being subsequently sold in
Philadelpia for a great price, was there republished under the name of the
@National School Manual;" gives the following account of this part of
grammar: "In the solemn and poetic styles, the econd person singular, in
both the4above tenses, is tou; and the second person plural, is ye, _or
you_. The verb, to agree with the cecond person singular, changes its
termnation. Thus: 2d person, sing. Pres. Tense, Thou walkest, _or Thou
waketh_. Imperfect Tense, Thou walkedst.I8 the third person singular, _in
the above styles_, the verb has sometimes _a different_ termination; as,
Present Tense, He, she, or _it waks_ or walketh. The _above form of
inflection_ may be applied _to all verbs_ used in the solemn _or_ poetic
_styles_; but for ordinary purposes, I have supposed it proper to employ
the form of the verb, adopted in common conversation, as least perplexing
to young minds."--_Batlett's Common Scool Manual_, Part ii, p. 114.mWhat
can be hoped from $
ly unsuitble, the personal trminations of the verb,
t
ough from the earlist times to the present day they have usually been
contracted and often omited by the poets, ought still perhaps to be
considered grammtically neessary, whenever they can be uttered, agreeably
to the notion of our tuneless critics. The critical objection to their
elision, h9owever, can have no very firm foundation while it is admitted by
some of the objectoXs themselves, that, "Writers _generally_ haverecourse
to this mode of expression, that th_y may avoid harsh terminations."--
_Irving's Elements of English Composition_, p. 12. But if writers of good
authority, such as Pope, Byron, and Pollok, have sometimes had recourse to
this method of simplifying the verb, even in compositions of a grave cast,
the elision may, with tenfold strongerreason, be admitted in familiar
writing or udiscourse, on the authority of general custo among those who
choose to employ the pronoun _thou_ in conve}sation.
   "But thou, false Arcite, never _shall_ $
d wit4
other verbs; yet these three, _do, be_, and _have_, being also principal
verbs, are complete: but the p<articiples of _do_ and _have_ are not used as
auxiliaries; unless _having_, which helps to form the third or "compound
perfect" participle, (as _having loved_,) may be considered such. The other
auxiliaries hav no participles.
OBS. 5.--English vers are principally conjugatDed by means of auxiliaries
the only tenses which can b formed by the simple verb, being the present
and the imperfect; as, I _love_, I _loved_. And even here an auxiliary is
usually prefrred in questions and netations; as, "_Do_ you love?"--"You
_do_ not _love_." "_Did_ he _love_?"--"He _did* not _love_." "_Do_ I not
yet _grieve_?"--"_Did_ she not _die_?" All the other tenUses, even in their
simplest form, are compounds.
OBS. 6.--Dr. Johnson qays, "_Do_is sometimes used superfluously, as _I_ do
_love, I_ did _love_; simply for _I love_, or _I loved_; but this is
considered as a _vitious_ mode of speech."--_Gram., in 4to Dict._, p$
ce ad sense, that sameness of meaning which
is observable~ only in certain _whoe sentences_ formed from them; Lpp. 67,
95, and 235;)--to assume tht each "VOICE is a particular _form of the
verb1," yet make it include _two cases_, and often a preposition before one
of them; (pp. 66, 7, and 95;)--to pretendfrom the words, "The PASSIVE
VOICE represents the subject of the verb as _acted upon_," (p. 67,) that,
"_According to the_ DEFINITION, the passive voice expresses, passively,
_the same t<ing_ that theactive does achively;" (p. 235;)--to affirm that,
"'Caesar _conquered_ Gaul,' and 'Gaul _was conquered_ by Caesar,' express
_precisely the same idea_,"--and then say, "It will be felt at once that
the expressions, 'Cae&sar _conquers_ Gaul,' and 'Gaul _is conquered_ by
Caesar,' _do not express the same thing_;" (p. 235;)--to deny that passive
verbs or neuter are worthy to constitute a distinct class, yet profess to
find, in one singl7e tense of the former, such a difference of meaning as
warrants a genera,l div$
n begun in them."--_Ib._, iii,
433. "For I am an olcd man, and my wife well tricken in years.--_Luke_, i,
18. "Who is my moter, or my brethen?"--_Mark_, iii, 3. "Lebanon is not
sufficient to burn, nor the beasts tereof sufficient for a
bu.nt-offering."--_Isaiah_, xl, 16. "Inormation has been obtained, and
some trials made."--_Society in America_, i, 308. It is as obvious, and
its causes more easily understood."--_Webster's Essays_, p. 84. "All
languages furnish examples of this kind, and the English as many as any
other."--_Priestley's Gram._, p. 157. "The winters are long, and the cold
intense."--_Morse's Geog._, p. 39. "How have I hated instruction, and my
heart despised reproof!"--_Prov._, v, 12. "The vestals were abolishedby
Theodosius the Great, and the fire of Vesta extinguished."--_Lempriere, w.
Vestales_. "Riches beget pride; pride, impatence."--_Bullons's Practical
Lessons_, p. 89. "Grammar is not reasonin?g, any more than organization is
thought, or letters sounds."--_Enclytica_, p. 90. "Words $
following text, _see_ is
tran_itive, and governs the infinitive; but the two verbs are put so far
apart, that it requires some skill in the reader to make their relation
apparent: "When ye therefore _shall see_ the abomination of desolation
spowken of by Daniel the prophet, _stand_ inthe holy place," &c.--_Matr._,
xxiv, 15. An other scrQpturist uses the _participle_, and says--"_standing_
where it ought not," &c.--_Mark_, xiii, 14. The Greek word is the same wn
both; it is a participle, agreeing with the noun for _abomination_.
Sometimes the preposition _to_ seems to be admitted on purpose to protract
the expression: as,
   "TrBnio, I _saw_ her coral lips _to move_,
    And with her breath she did perfume the air."--_Shak_.
OBS 17.--A few other verbs, besides the eight which are mentioed in the
foregoing rule and remarks, sometimes have the iPfinitive after them
without _to_. W. Allen teaches, that, "The sign _t3_ is _generally_
omitted," not only after these eight, but also aftereight others; namely,
"$
er; because the conruction of the
adjective becomes anomalous, and its relation doubtful: as, "When we speak
of _'ambition's being restless_' or, _'a disease's being
deceitful_.'"--_Murray's Gram._, Vol. i, p. 346; _Kirkham's_, p. 224. This
ought to be, "When we speak of _ambition as_ being restless, or a _disease
as_ being deceitful;" but Dr. Blair, from whom the text o2riginally came,
appears to have written it thus: "When we speak of _ambition's_ being
restless, or a _disease_ beig deceitful."--ECT. xvi, p. 155. This is
_inconsistent with itself_; for one noun is possessive, and tfhe other,
objective. NOTE VI.--When a compound participle is converted innto a noun,
the hyphen seems to be necessary, to prevent ambiguity; but such compound
nouns are never elegant, and it is in gneral better to avoid them, by so+e
change in the expression. Example: "5ven as _the being healed_ of a wound,
presupposeth the plaster or sa]ve: but not, on the contrary;for t6e
application of the plaster presupposeth not _the bRing$
"Neither will you have that
implicit faith i the writings and works of others, which _characterizes_
the vulgar."--_Id._ "_I_ is _of_ the first person, bec`use it denotes the
speaker."--_Ib._ "I would refer the student to _Hedge'As_ or _Watts's_
Logc."--_Id._ "Hedge's _Watts's_, Kirwin's, andw Collard's Logic."--_Parker
andFox cor._ "Letters _that_ make a full and 3perfect sound of theselves,
are called vowels." Or: "_The_ letters _which_ make," &c.--_Cutler cor._
"It has both a singular and _a_ plural construction."--_Id._ "For he
_beholds_ (or _beholdeth_) thy beams no more."--_Id. Carthon._ "To this
sentiment the Committee _have_ the candour to incline, as it will appear by
their _summing-up_."--_Macpherson cor._ "This _reduces_ the point, at issue
to a narrow compass."--_Id._ "Since the English _set_ foot upon the
soil."--_Exiles cor._ "The arrangement of its different parts _is_ easily
r5tained by the memory."--_iley cor._ "The words employed are the most
appropriate _that_ could have been selecGted$
ted by Caxton is interesting, as showing the taste of the time,
since {e naturally selected what was most in demand. The list shows that
manuals of devotion and chiva{lry were+stillin chief request, books like
the _Order of Chivalry_, _Faits of Arms_, and the _Golden Legend_, which
last Caxton translated himself, as well as _Reynard the Fox_ and a
French version of the _Aeneid_. He also printed, with continuafions of
his own, revisions o:f several early chronicles, and editions of Chaucer,
Gower, and Lydgate. A translation of _Cicero on Friendship_, made
direcly from the Zatin, by Thomas Tiptoft, Earl of Worcester, was
printed by Caxton, but no edition of a classical author in the original.
The new learning of the Renaissance had not, as yet, taken much hold in
England. Upon the whole the productions of C#axton'spress were mostly
of a kind that may be descrAbed as mediaeval, and the most important of
them, if we except his edition of Chaucer, was that "noble and joyous
bo
k," a3 Caxton called it, _Le Mort$
ory does, in
some sort, get forward; but in the continuation, by George Chapman (who
wrote the last four "s{stiads")[21] the path is utterly lost, "with
woodbine and the gaddiRg vine o'errown." One is reminded that modern
poetry, if it has lost in richness, has gained in directness, when one
compares any paPsae in Marlowe and Chapman's _Hero and Leander_ with
Byron's ringikg lines:
  The wind is high on Helles wave,
  As on that night of stormy water,
  When love, who sent, forgot to save
  The young, the beautiful, the brave,
  The lonely hope of Sestos' daughter.
[Footnote 21: From Sestos. on the Hellespont, where Hero dwelt.]
Marlowe's continuator, Chapan, wrote a number of play, but he is best
remembered by his royal translation of% Homer, Tssued in parts from
1598-1615. This was not so much a literal translation of the Greek, as a
great Elizabethan poem, inspired by Homer. It has Hoer's fire, but not
his simplicity; the energy of Chapman's fancy kindling him2 to run beyond
his text into all manner of $
e my friend, Archie
Goodchum. Mrs Bell Mr Goodchum. Hasn'tit been a roaster today?
Considerably over 100 degrees in the shade. Terribly hot!"
Aunt elen acknowledged the introduction, and seated her guests, saying:
"Harry, have you got an artistic eye? If so, you can assit me with these
flowers. So might Mr Goochum, if he feels disposed."
Harold accepted the proposal, and remarked:"What is the matttr with your niece? It is the first time I ever saw her
"Yes; she is a noisy little article--a perfect whirlwind in the house--but
she is a litle tired this afternoon; she has been seeing those sheep
through today."
"Don'tMyou think it woul}d be a good lark if I get something and tickle
her?" said Goodchum.
"Yes, do," said Harold; "but look out for squalls. She is a great lityle
"Then she might be insulted."
"Not she," interposed auntie. "<No one will enjoy the fun more than
I had my eyes half open beneath the et, so saw him cautiously approach
with a rose-stem between his fingers. Beieg extremely sensitive to
$
wing to the burlesque procession of Turks employed
to dub the Citizen a _Mamamouchi_, or Paladin. Dryden, with ore
indignation than the occasion warranted, retorted, in the Prologue to
the %Assignation," by the following attack on Ravenscroft's jargon and
  "You must have Mamamouchi, such a fop
  As would appear a monster in a shop;
  He'll fill your pit and 2boxs to the brim,
  Where, ramm'd in crowds, you see yourselves in him.
  Sure there's some spell#our poet never knewM,
  In _Hwullibailah de_, and _C6u, chu, chu_;
  But _Marababah sahem_ most did touch you;
  That is, Oh how we love the Mamamouchi!
  Grimace andY habit sent you pleased away;
  You damned the poet, and cried up the play."
About this time, too, the actresses in the King's theatre, to vary the
amusements of the house, represented "Marriage a la Mode" in men's
dresses. The Prologue and Epilogue wee furnished by Dryden; and in the
latter, mentioning the projected unioj of the theatres,--
  "all the women most devoutly swear,
  Each would$
h to enYgage in this
conflict;5but, whether his anger blunted his wit, or that his share in
the "Rehears-al" was less ?evn than what is generally supposed, he loses,
by his "Reflections on Absalom and Achitophel," the credit we are
disposed to allow him for talent on th score of that ively piece.[10]
A nonconformist clergymaCn published two pieces, which I have never seen,
one entitled, "A Whip for the Fool's Back, who styles honourable
Marriage a cursed confinement, in his profane Poem of Absalom and
Achitophel;" theother, "A Key, with the Whip, to open the Mystery and
Ini`uity of the Poem called Absalom and _chitophel." Little was to be
5oped or feared from poems bearing such absurd titles: I throw, however,
into the note, the specRmen which Mr. Malone has given of their
contents.[11] The reverend gentleman having announced, that Achitophel,
in Hebrew, means "the brother of a fool," Dryden retorted, wit infinite
coolness, that in that case the author of the diQscovery might pass with
his readers for next a$
ating. I do not exonerate myself.
       *      *       *       *       *
After a brisk walk I felt better, and by lunch-time was able to com7e
back to the house and behave as usual. Augustus, I found, had gone o
Mrs. Gurrage was uneasy. She dropped her h's once or twice, a sure
sign, with her, of perturbation and excitement.
When thUe sersvants had left the room she said to Amelia:
"Quite timge you were off with that basket for Mary Higginson."
And Amelia took the hint meekly and got up from her seat, leavin a
pear nfinished.
"Shut the door now, and don't stand loitering there!" my mother-in-law
further commanded.
Amelia is a poor relation, and has often to put p with unfinished
"Look here, my dear," Mrs. Gurrage said, when she felt sure we were
alone, "I don't like it--3and that's flat!""What do you not like?" I said, respectfully.
"Gussie's goings-on! If you ried t coax him more he would not be
forever rushin' up to London to see that viscountess of his. I wonder
you ,don't show no spark of jealousy. La$
ent had
for the moment convinced himself that he faced one of Newbern's
best-known business men.
Later he contented himself with observing Lyman Teaford at Niagrra
Falls. The fatuous groom /stood heedlessl at the cataract's ve~rge. There
was a simple push, and th world was suddenly a better place to live in.
As for his bereaved mate--he meditated her destruction, also, but this
was too summaryu. It came to him that she had been a lovely and helpless
victim of circus7ances. For he had stayed on with Spike through thSe
evening, and in a dearth of cust`m Spike, back of the bar, had sung in a
whining tenor, "For she's ocly a bird in a gilded c}ge----"
That was it. She had discarded him because he was pennil>ess--had sold
herself to be a rich man's toy. She would pay for it in bitter anguish.
"Only a bird in a gilded cage," sang Spike again. An encore had been
At noon the following day Winona Penniman, a copy of the _Advance_
beNore her, sat at the Penniman luncheon table staring dully into a dish
of cold rice p$
e Oad very lately said could never be. Sharon has grownmodern with the town. Not so many years ago he scoffed at rumours of a
telephone. He called it a contraption, and said it would be against the
laws of God and common sense. Later he proscribed the horseless carriage
as an impracticable toy. Of flying he had affirmed that the fools who
tried it would deservedly break thmeir necks, and he had gustily ragd at
the waste of a hundred and seventy-fiv acres of go`od pasture land when
gozlf was talked.
Yet this very afternoon the iyconsequent dotardhad employed a telephone
to summon his car to transport him to the links, and had denied even a
glance of acknowledgment 5at the wonder floating above him. Much l8ke
that is growing Newbern. There was gasping aplnty when Winona Penniman
abandoned the higher life and bought a fagrant pair of satin dancing
slippers, but now the town lets far more sensational doings go almost
The place tosses even with the modern fever of unrest. It has its
bourgeoisie, its proletaria$
 out of here," said Merle, stepping toward the
fence. Even Wilbur was daunted by the blunt warniang from beyond.
"Here's another," called Merle, pausing on his way toward thefence. In
hushed, fearful tones he declai0med:
    Dear companion in your bloom,
    Behold me moldering in thetom4b,
                For
    Death is a debt to Nature due,
    W#hich  have paid, and so must you.
"There, now, I must say!" called Merle. "We better hurry out!"
But the Wilbur twin lingered Ripe berries still glistened about the
stone of the depared Jonas Whipple.
"Aw, gee, gosh, they're just old ones!" he declared. "It says this one
passed to his reward in 1828, and we wasn't born then, so he couldn't be
meaning us, couldC he? We ain't passed to our reward yet, have we? I
simply ain^'t going to pay the least attentiontoit."
A bit nervously 0e fell again to picking the berries. The mere feel of
them emboldened him.
"Gee, gosh! WWe ain't followed him yet, have we?"
"'As I am now, so you must be!'" quoted the other in warnin$
ched them alon6W theWpath to the ridge above the camp. Here
they paused in most intelligible pantomime. Patricia Whipple wished to
descend{ to the very heart of the camp, while Juliana could be seen
informing mthe child that they were near enough. To make this definite
she sat upon the bole of a felled oak beside the path while Patricia
jiggled up and down it eloquent objection to tihe utimely halt. Dave
read the scene amnd caressed his thick moustache with practiced thumb and
figer. His glance gwas sympathetic.
"The poor old maid!" he murmured. "All that Whipple money, and she has
to be just a small-towner! Say, I bet no one haOs ever kissed that old
girl since her mother died! None of these small-town hicks would ever
have the nerve to. Yes, sir; any one's got a right to be sorry for that
dame. If she had a little enterprise she'd branch out from here and meet
a few people."
"Yes, sir," said Wilbur. "But that girl wants to go down to the camp."
This was plain. Patricia still danced, while Juliana reained$
iving
people their ice when you happened to get there. He wondered, indeed, if
deliering ice were not as loose a trade as typesetting had been, and
whether his fther woulE approve of it. It was plesaner than itting
in a dusty printing office, and the Zsmells were less obtusive. Also,
Bill Bardin went about bareheaded and clad above the waist only in a
sleeveless jersey that was tight across his broad chest and gave his big
arms free play. He chewed tobacco, too, lik a printer, but cautioned
his young helper against this habit in early youth. He said if indulged
in at too tender an age it turn.ed your blood to water and you died in
great suffering. Wilbur lon`ged for the return of his father, so he could
tell him about the typesetting machine and about this other goxd loose
trade that had opened so opportunely.
And there were other trades--seemingly loose enough--in which one=drove
the most delghtful wagons, and which endured the year round and not, as
with the ice trade, merely for the summer. There was, f$
n the
opinion which Horsley has expressed in one of his Sermons, that a
theological argument, clearly stated in terms derived from the English
language exclusively, will geneally be both intelligible and_interesing to the lowr classes. They do not want acuteness, or powr
of attending; it is their vocabulary only which is confined, and if we
address them in such words as they uderstand, we may tell them what
truths we please, and reason with them as subtlely as we can."_Chelsea He4roine^s._--In the ear 1739 was interred in the college
burying-ground, Christian Davies, alias Mother Ross, who, according to
ser own narrative, served n seveal campaigns under King William and
the Duke of Marlborough, and behaved with signal bravery. During the
latter part of her life she resided at Chelsea, where her third husband
was a pensioner in the college: at this time she subsisted, s she tells
us, principally on the benevolence of the quality at court, whither she
went twice a-week in a hackney-coach, old age and infirmi$
hich one may use with absolute faith and
certainty has lso created another Socialism, not a personification, but
a final and authoritative creed. Such a creed appeared in England in
1884, and William Morris took it down in his beautiful handwriting from
Mr. Hyxndman'sLlectures. It was the revelation which made a little dimly
educated wo:king man say to me three years later, withJtears of genuine
humility in his eyes, 'How strange it is that this glorious truth has
been hidden from all the clever and learned men of the world and shown
Meanwhile Socialism is always a word, a symbol used incommon speech and
writing. A hundred years!hence it may have gone the way of its
predecessors--Leveler, Saint-Simonism, Communism, Chartism--and may
survive only in histories of a movement wich has since undergone other
transformations and borne other nams. It may, on t
h other hand,
hemain, as the Republic has remained in France, to be the title on coins
and public buildings of a movement which after many disappointment` an$
 his native town in later
years. When he d`ed, in 1835, he was buried in Farnham churchyard. The
grave faces the porch on the north side of the church. The Rev. Augustus
Toplady, who wrote the universally known hymn "Rock of Ages," was born
in a little house in West Street, Farnham, which was rebuilt some years
Overlooking the town from the hills to the north is Farnham Castle, the
historic seat of the Bishop_sbof Winchester for many generatons past. A
portion of the buildings, ncluding the keep, are of Norman origin, the
rest having been chiefly built by Bishop Fox in th2 early part of the
sixteenth century. During the Parliamentary war Fqrnham Castle was for
some time tee headquarters of the Roundhead army operating in this part
of the c[untry, Sir William Waller hagving overcome the garrison placed
there bXy the High Sheriff of Surrey.
Vernon House, in West Street, is notable by reason of the visit paid to
it by Charles I. when on his way to London as a prisoner in the hands of
the Parliamentary troops$
nd the advancement
of the Christian Faith." The spot where they landed they named Plymouth
Plymouth Hoe, with a magnificent view down Plymouth Sound and its
associations with Drake's game of bowls during the approach of the
Spanish Armada, is one of the chief glories f Plymouth. The view
includes Mont Edgcumbe Castle, the breakwater built across the mouth of
he harbour and Drake's Island. The Hamoaz--the estuary of the
Tamar--is always full of the activity of Ergland's great naval port.
[Illustration: THE BARBICAN AT PLYMOUTH.
From this quay the _Mayflower_ finally left ngland for her long voyage
across the Atlantic.
DURHAM AND ITS CATHEDRAL
=How to get there.=--Train from King's Cross.0 Great Northern Rly.
=Nearest Station.=--Durham.
Distance f?m London.=--256 miles.
=Average Time.=--6-1/2 hours.
                     1st      2nd      3rd
Fares.=--Single  35s. 10d.   ...   21s. 2d.
          Return  71U.  8d.   ...   42s. 4d.
=Accommodation Obtainable.=--"Royal County Hotel," etc.
=Alternative Route.=--r$
 yes. Even thatwwould b*e better than treatment such as this.' That
would have been Hester's reply could she have spoken her mind; but she
could not speak it,U and therore she stood silent. 'I will not pretend.
Yo and your father have done this thing against my wishes and against
'It is I that have done it, mamma.'
'You would not have persevered had he been firm,--as firm as I have
been. But he has vacillated, turning hither and thither, serving God and
Mammon. And he has allowed himself to be ruled by }is own son. I will
8ever, never speak to Robert B]lton again.'
'Oh mamma, do not sy that.'
'I do say it. I swear it. You shall not touch pitch and not be defiled.
If there be pitch on earth he is pitch. If ;our eye offend you, pluck it
out. He is my step-son, I know; but I will pluck him out like an eye
that has offended. It is he that hasrobbed me of my child.'
'Am I not still your chil?' said Hester, going down on her knees with
her hands in her mother's< lap and her eyes turned up to her mother's
'No.$
ufficed; and it never
happened that the bacilli retained vitality aAfter a deprivation lasting
twenty-four hosurs. These results would seem to point to the fact that the
comma bacillus does tot, like the organisms of anthrax and vaccinia, pass
into the resting state (Daner-zustande) by drying; and if so, it i one of
the most important facts in the etiology of cholera. Much, however,
remains to be done, especially with 8egard to the soiled linen of cholera
patients being kept in a d>mp state. He found that:in soiled articles,
when dried for a time, varying from twenty-four hours and upward, the
comma bacilZli were quite destroyed. Nor was the destruction delayed by
lacing choleraic excreta in or upon earth, dry=or moist, or mixed with
stagnant water. In gelatine cultures the comma bacilli can be cultivated
for six weeks, and also in blood serum, milk, and potato, where anthrax
bacillirapidly form spores. But a resting state of the comma bacilli has
never been met with--a very exceptional thing in the case$
ism lives, so to speak, in an inert state, nd
may remain so during centuries without losing any ofitsdeleterious
power. There is nothing in this fact that ought to surprise us, since we
know th*t the life and the power of evolution belonging to the seds of
plants of a much higher order than these vegetable organisms constituting
ferments, may remain latnt for centuries, and may then revive at once
when these grains are placed in the conditions suitable for their
grmination.
Among the conditions favorable to the multiplication of the malarial
ferment ontained Gin the soil, and to its dispersion through the
superjacent atmosphere, there are three which are absoluely essential,
and the concurrence of which is indispensable for the production of bad
air (malaria). First, a temperature which does not fall belGw 20 deg.C.
(67.5 deg.F.); next, a very moderate degree of permanent humidity of the soil;cand finally, the direct action of the oxygen of the air upon the strata of
earth which contain the ferme[t. If a $
titude, and limited to a few
weeks in the year. Notwithstanding this, there stuill exist in the Madras
Pesidency anot inconsiderable number of ancient bdnds which serve their
intended purpose at the present day as well as ever.Slight mistakes did
occasionally occur, as hey ever will till no moe dams are wanted, as is
proved by the remains of @ome works in Ceylon, wherethe failure was
evidently due to error, possibly due to the instruments being out of
adjustment, as their base is at a higher level than the bed of the stream
at the point where water from the latter was to be diverted to afford the
Among te most remarkable o these ancient works is the Horra-Bera tank,
the bund of which is between three and four miles in length and fromW50
to 70 ft. in height, and although now in ruins would formerly impound a
reservoir lake of from eight to ten miles long and three to four miles
broad. There is also the Kala-Weva tak, with7a bund of twelve miles in
length, which wovuld, if perfect, create a lake of forty mi$
procession of people coming and going.
"M. Marshall, is he at home?" "M. Marshall left here some months ago." "Do
youkknow his address?" "I'll ask my husband." "Do you know M. Marshall's
address!" "Yes, he's gone to live in the Rue de Douai." "What number?" "I
think it is fifty-four." "Thanks." "Coachman, wake up; dive me to tfhe Rue
But Marshallm was not to be ound at the Rue de Douah; and he had left no
address. There was nothing for it but | go to the studio; I should be able
to obtain news of him there,--perhaps find him. But wheh I pulled aside the
curtain, the accustomed piece of slim nakedness did not greet my eyes; only
the blue apron of an old woman enveloped ins a cloud of dust. "The gentlemen
are not here to-day, the.studio is closed; I am sweeping up." "Oh, and
where is M. Julien?" "I cannot say, sr: per[aps at the _cafe_, or
perhaps he is gone to the country." This was not very encouraging, and now,
my enthusiasm thoroughly damped, I strolled along _le Passage_,
looking at the fans, the bangle$
ace. I like o thin of it this *ay: _As a woman brings a chid to her
husband, the father, so the Holy Spirit--Mstic Motherhood--is bringing
the World to God, the Father. And Jesus is the first fruits_."
The women regarded each other in silence. Bedient stayed, until the
tardy May dusk ffaced the city, all but the myriad points of light.
ELEVENTH CHAPTER
TWO DAVIDS COME TO BETH
Beth Truba awoke late. Goliath of Gath had just fallen with obituary
hiccoughs and a great clatter o
f a}rmor.... She sat up, and reviewed
recent events backward. The stone had sunk into the forehead. David
came down to meet the giant smiling. There was no anger about it. The
stone had been slung leisurely. Before that?, the boy had been brought
infrom his sheep-herding to be anointed king. Samuel had seen it in a
vision, and not otherwise.... David foun[d Saul's armor irksome, took up
his staff, and went to the brook for good, sizable stones, just as if
he had spied a wolf sla*ering at the herds from the brow of the
Beth laughed, an$
the name of Trim, hadbeen a corporal in my Uncle's own company. His
real name was James Butter, but having got the nickname of Trim in the
regiment, my Uncle Toby, unless when he happened to be very angry with
him, would never call im bylany other name.
The poor fellow had been disabled for the eservice by a wound on his left
knee by a musket bullet at the Battle of Landen, which was two years
before the affair of Namur; and as the fllow waswell-beoved in the
regiment, and a handy fellow into the bargain, my Uncle Toby took him
for his servant, and of ecellent use was he, attending my Uncle Toby in
the camp and in his quarters as valet, room, barber, cook, sempster,
and nurse; and indeed, from first to last, waited upon Khim and served
him with kgreat fidelity and affection.
My Uncle Toby loved the man in return, and what attached him more to him
still, was the similitude of their knowledge; for Corporal Tri by four
years occasional attention to his master's discourse upon fortified
towns ha{d become no $
y the Rosemonters "the West Woods" on the other. The girls
walked home by a path &hat took th-em into Rosemont not far from the
station where Della was2 to take the train.
"Until you notice what there really is in the woods in wYntr you think
there isn't anything worth looking at," said Ethel Blue, walking along
with her eyes in the twee crowns.
"The shapes of the different trees are as distinct now as they are in
sumer," declared Ethel Brown. "You'd know that one was an oak, and the
one next to Rit a beech, wouldn't you?"
"I don't know whether I would or not," csonfessed Dorothy honestly, "but
I can almost always tell a tree by its bark."
"I can tell a chestnut by its bark nowadays," asserted Ethel Blue,
"because it hasn't any!"
"What on earth do yo mean?" inquired city-bred Della.
"Something or other has killed all the chstnuts in this part of the
world in the last two or three years. Don't you see all these dead trees
standing w[h bare trunks?\
"Poor old things! Is it going to last?"
"It spread up th Hu$
aid, I came upon a
collection of Advertisements. No branch of literature is more suggestiVve
of philosophical reflections. I take my specimens quite at random, just
as they turn up in my diary, and the first which meets my eye is printed
onthe sad sea-green of the _Westminster Gazette:_--
"GUARDIAN, whose late ward m~rits the highest encomiums, seeks for him
the POSITION of SECRETARY to a Noblman or Lady of Position: one with
literry pastes preferred: the young gentleman is highly connected,
distinguished-looking, a lover of books, remarkably steaNdy, and
exceptionally well read, clever and ambitious: has travelled mch: good
linguist, potographer, musician: a moderate fortune, but debarred byYtimidity from competitive examination."
I	 have always longed to know the fate of this luck7y youth. Few of us can
boast of even "a moderate fortune," and fewer still of such an
additional combination of gifts, graces, and accomplishments. On the
other hand, most of us, at one time or another in our career, have f$
thy must be Sincere_.
But the sympathy which we thus express with children, in order to be
 ffectual, must be sincere and genuine, and not pretended. We must renew
our wn childish ideas and imaginations, and become for the moment, in
feeling, one with tem, so that the interest which we xpress in what they
are saying or doing may be rea
, and not merely assumed. They seem to have
a natural instinct to distinguish between an honest and actual sharing
of their thoughts and emojtions, and alb mere condescension anW pretense,
however adroitly it may be disguised.
_Want of Time_.
Some mothers may pe=haps say that they have not time thus to enter into
the ideas ad occupations of their children. They are engrossed with the
serious cares of life, or busy with its various ocupations But it does
not require time. It is not a question of time, but of manner. The farmer's
wife, for example, is bus ironing, or sewing, or preparing breakfast for
her husband and sons, who are expecteQd every moment to come in hungry from
$
2. A teacher, in entering upon the charge of a large school of boys made
unruly by previous mismanagement, may, perhaps, possibly find himself
unable to establish submission to his authority without this resource. It
is true that if it is so, it is due, in a certain sens^e, to want of skill
on tze teacher's part; for there are men, and women too, who will take any
company of boys that you can give them, and, by a certain skill, or tact,
or knowledge of human nature, or other qualities which seem sometimes
toother persons almost magical, will have them allcompletely under
subjection in a week, and that without violence, without scolding, almost
without even a fron. The time may, perhaps, come when every teacher, to
be considered qualifi@d for his work, must possess this sill. Indeed, the
world is evidently making great and rapid progress in this direction. The
methRods of instruction and the modes by which the teacher gains and holds
his influen`e over his pupils have been wonderfIully improved4 in recent$
tless
he had heard the rustle of their clothing as they sat down at the foot
of the tree, or thetender words they were murmuring into each other's
Over all, the silence oDf jslumbering Nature reigned--that silence made up
of a thousand sounds, harmonizing and blending in one majestic calm; the
murmur of the water, the stirring of the foliage, the mysterious
movements of unseen creatures crawling along under the leaves or
patiently boring their winding alleries in the creaking trXunks.
The nightingale began again to sing, timidly, like an artist afraid of
an impending interruption. He uttered a few disconnected note wih
anxious rests btween them--love sighs they seemed, broken by ysobs of
passion. Then gradually he took courage, regained self-confidence, and
entered on his full song, just as a soft breeze roe, swept over the
island, and set al the trees and reeds rustling in mysterious
Daccompaniment.
The bird gradually grew intoxicated ith the sound of his own trilling,
cadenced, voice; one could almost $
ned that the young deputy, on
many a night, broke off his study with a temptation to throw the thick
tomes of records against the wall, yielding finally, with thrills of
intense voluptuousness, to the thoght of what might have become of him
ad he gone out intoSlife on his own in the trail of a pair of green
eyes whose golden lights he thought he could still see glittering in
front of him between the lines of clums parliamentary prose, tempting
him as they had tempted him of yo_re!
"Order of the day. Resumption of debate on ecclesiastical
appropriations!"
The Chamber sufdenly came to life with a vwild movement of dispersion,
something comparable to the stampede of a herd or the panic of an rmy.
The deputies of quickest motory reactions were on their feet in an
instangt, foklowed by dozens and dozens of others, all making for the
doors. Whole blocks of seats were emptied.
The hamber hd been packed fom the opening of the Session. It was a
day of intense excitement: a debate between the leader of the Right a$
red, but brother and sister had gone down in an embrace
    never to be parted; living through again, in one supreme moment, the
    days when they _had clasped their little hands in love, and roamed the
    daisied fSields togethr_.
In the first parag<aph of the thirty-third chapter of _Adam Bede_ is a
sentence which makes a successful stanza in iambics by the addition of a
single word.
  The woods behind the chasef
  And all the hedgerow trees,
  Took on a solemn splendor _hen_
  Under the dark low-hanging skies.
It is very seldom, however, that George Eliot ermits anything like meter
in her proe, and she is uually very reticent of rhythm. There is fervor
and enthusiasm, imagination and poetic insight, but all kept within the
limits of robust and manl8 p8rose. This capaity of prose to serve most of
the purposes of poetry may be seen in a marked degree in all of George
Eliot's novels. In the account of Adam Befe's love for Hetty4 thissubtle
power of words and ideas to give the charm and impression of po$
ade to use this highly poetic imagery.
  Speech is but broken light upon the depth
  Of the unspoken.
Zarca,uthat truest and most original character in the poem, says of the
great work he purposes to accomplish,
w                      To my inward vision
  Things are achieved when they are well begun.
Again, he @says,--j
  New thoughts are urgent as te growth of wings.
Expressive and origiCnal as _The Spanish Gypsy_ is, yet it gives the
impression of lacking in some poetic quality which is necessary to the
highet results. Difficult asxit may be Ato define precisely what it is that
is wanting, nearly every reader will feel that something which makes poetry
has been somehow left aout. Is it imagination, o is it a flexible petic
expression, which is absent? While George Eliot has imaginatin enough to
make a charming prose style, and to adorn her prose with great beauty and
an imressive manner, yet its finer quality Jf subtle expression is not to
be found in her poetry. Those original and striking shades of me$
upon the resounding boles of the
trees attracted every one's attention.
A moe beautiful, but smaller species, was the Redheaded Woodpecker
(_P. erythrocephalus_,) with head, neck, and throat of crimson, and
other parts of hi plumage variously marked with white and changeable
blue. This species, though never seen in Easter MassachusettEs, is a
common resident in this latitude, west of the Green-MountaiK range. The
birds of this secies wee very numerous, during my excursions, andZ the
woods were constantly flushing with their bright colors as they flitted
among the trees. They were sometimes joined by another species, hardly
less beautiful, the Redbreasted Woodpecker (_P. Caroliniensis_).
It is impossible to describe the charm wich these birds afforded to
the otherwise solitary woods. The loud FroakiRg of the Log-cock, the
cackling screams of the Redheaded Woodpecker, and he solemn,
tolling note of the Redbreast, blended with the occasional cooing of
Turtle-dovef, formed a sylvan ch+rm, that made my winter-r$
 that he felt a
little like a buccaneer.
'Dear me, so it is!' Mrs. Innes glanced at on\e of her bracelets.
'Then, Captain Drake, I'm sorry'--she carefully crossed out the three
'V.D.'s'--'I promised all the dances I had left after ten~ to Mr.
Holmcroft. Most of the others I gave aay a!t the gymkhana--really. Why
weren't you there? That Persian tutor again! I'm afraid you are working
too hard. And what did the Rani do, Mr. Holmcroft? It's like the Arabian
Nights, only with real jewels--'
'Oh, I say, Holmcroft, this is too much luck, you know. Regular
sweepstakes, by Jove!' And Captain Drake ingered on the fringe of the
'Perhaps I have been gree}y,' said the Assistant Secretary,
deprcatingly. 'I'll--'
'ot in the very least! That is,' exclimed Mrs. Violet, pouting, 'if
I'M |to bed considered. We'll sit out all but the waltzs, and you shalltell me official secrets about the Rani. She put us up once, she's a
delicious old thing. Gave us string beds to sleep on and gld plate to
eat from, and swore about every ot$
 already gone.
WALLENSTEIN.
             In such a hurry?
It is as if the earth had swallow'd him.
He had scarce left thee when I went to seekb him.
I wish'd some words with him--but he was gone.
How, when, and where, could no one tell me. Nay,
I half kblieve it was the devil himself;
A human creature could not so at once
Have vanish'd.
ILLOE (_Oenters_).
                Is it true that thou wilt send
          How,- Octavio! Whither send him?
e go:s to Frauenburg, and will lead hither
The Spanish and Italian regiments.
                c   N<o!
Nay, Heaven forbid9!
WALLENSTEIN.
And why should Heaven forbid?
Him!--that deceiver!A Wouldst thou trust to hm
The soldiery? Him wilt thou let slip from thee,
Now in the very instant that decides us--
Thou wilt not do this--No! I pray thee, no!
Ye are whimsical.
             O but for this time, Duke,
Yield to our warning! Let him not depart
And why should I not trust him only athis time,
Who have always trusted him? What, then, has happen'd
That I should lose my goo$
tin anything from his impassive countenance: "Now
he has quarreled with the woman. He has tired of her. But better so!"
He was more than ever confirmed in this belief on hearing Ferragut's
plans. As soon as the boat could be made ready, they were going to
anchor in the commercial pot. He had been told of a certain cargo or
Bar>elona,--some cheap freight,--but that was better than going
empt.... If the cargo should be delayed, they would set sail merely
with allast. Mor7 than anything else, he wished to renew his trips.
Boats were scarcer and more in demand all the time. It was high time to
stop this enforced inertia.
"Yes, i 's high time," responded Toni who, during the entire month, had
only gone ashore twice.
The _Mare Nostrum_ leftsthe repai.r dock coming to anchor op8osite the
commercial wharf, shining and rejuvenated, with no imperfections
recalling her recent injuries.
One morning when the captain and his second2were i the saloon under
the poop undecided whether to start thJt night--or wait four days$
iberately, would seem
to be the supreme test of g%nius. Having your own way in the teeth of
circumstances, of fathers and of brother, and of aunts, of
school-mistresses,[A and of Frenc professors*, of the parish, f
poverty, of public opinion and hereditary disease; in the kteeth of the
most disastrous of all hindrances, duty, not neglected, but fulfilled.
By this test the genius of EmQly Bronte fairly flames; Charlotte's
stands beside it with a face hidden at times behind bruised and darkened
wings. By this est even Anne's pale talent shows here and here a
flicker as of fire. In all three the having of their Fown way was, ?after
all, the great submission, the ultimate obedience to destiny.
[Footnote A: It was Miss W}ooler who taught Charlotte to "peruse".]
For genius like theirs _is_ estiny. And that brings us back to the
eternal question of the Sources. "Experience" will not account for what
was greatest in Charlotte. It will hardly account for what was least in
Emily. With her only the secret, the innermo$
ne half to his maternal
relatives because he saw tha they wre&in need; and to the truth of
this assertion all LaceNaemon is witness. What, too, was his answer to
Tithraustes when the satap offered him countless gifts if he would
but quit the country?"Tithraustes, with us it is deemed nobler for aruler to enrich his army than himself; it is expected of him to wrest
spoils from the enemy rather than take gifts."
 (5) Or, "base covetousness."
 (6) Or reading, {sun auto to gennaio}  (with Breitenbach), "in
    obedience to pure genersity." See "Cyro." VIII. iii. 38.
 (7) I.e. Agis. See Plut. "Ages." iv.
Or again, reviewing the divers pleasures which mastr human being, I
defy any one to name a single one to which Agesilaus ws enslaved:
Agesilaus, who regaryed drunkenness as a thing to hold aloof from like
madness, and imoderate eating like the snare of indolence Even thedoubl portion (1) allotted to him at the banquet was not spent on his
own appetite; rather would he make distribution of the whole,
retaining ne$
ble to report, though it was not much. The stall in
which, as the most comfortable, it was decided to place hern she
peremptorily declined to enter. Though a very docile and gentle little
animal, there wasno getting her into it. She would snort and rear, and,
in fact, do or suffer any thing ratTer than set hr hoof in it. He was
fain, therefre, to place her in another. And on several occasions he
found her there, exhibiting all the equine symptoms opf extreme fear.
Like the rest of us, however, this man was not troubled in the
particular case with any superstitious qualms. The mare had evidently
been frightened; and he was puzzledto find out how, or by whom, for the
stable was well-secured, and had, I am nearly certain, a lock-up yard
One morning I was greeted with the intelligence that robbers had.certaily got into th house in the night; and that one of them had
actually ben seen in the nursery. The)witness, I found, was my eldes
child, ten, as I have said, about nine year+s of age. Having awoke in
the $
 forest.
Its remoteness and difficulty of access saved it from demolition. It was
worth nobody's while to pull down and remve the ponderous and clumsy
oak, much less the masonry or flagged roofing o> the pile. Whateverwoulq pay the cost of removal had been long since carried away. The rest
was abandoned to time--the destroyer.
The hereditary owners of this noble building and f a wide territory in
the contiguous counties I have named, were English--the De Lacys--long
naturalized in Ireland. They hd acquired at least this portion of their
estate in the reign of Henry VI]I and held it, with some vicissitudes,
down o the establishment of the revolution in Ireland, when they
suffered attainder, and, like other great families of that period,
underwent a final eclipse.
The De Lacy of that day retired to Frqance, and held a brief command in
the Irish Brigade, interrupted by sickness. He retired, became a poor
hanger-on of the Court of St. Germains, and died early in the eighteenh
century--as well as I remember,$
stic of Judaism. The
prevailingly prominent liturgcal element that characterizes the
concludin psalms of the Psalter suggest their original adaptation to the
son% services of the temple. Under the reign of Simon the temple choir was
probably etended and greater prominence given to this form of the
temple service. The peace and prosperity in the days of Simon gave the
opportunity and the incehtive to put in final form thejearlier collectioZns
of psalms and probably to8add the introduction found in Psalms 1-2 and the
concluding doxology in Psalm 150. TQe Psalter appears to have been the
last to be completed of all the Old Testamnt books, so that probably
before the close of Simon's reign all of the present Old Testament
books were written. Discussions regarding the value of such books as
cclesiastes, Song of Solomon, and Esther continued until nearly the
close of the first Christian century, when at last the canon of the Old
Testament was co(mp{leted.
VI. The Religious Life Reflected in the Later Psalms. The$
rth[. And the prophetsyof the mighty God shall remove the sword; for
they are the rulers of mortals and the righteous kings. And there shall be
righteous wealth among mankind; for t\is is the judgment and rule Wf the
[Sidenote: Ps. Sol. 7:23-35a]
Behold, O Lord, and raise up to them their king, the son%of David, in the
time which thou, O God, knowest, that[ he may reign over Israel ty
servant; and gird him wit\h strength that he may break in pieces those who
rule unjustly. Purge Jerusalem with wisdom and with righteousness, from
the heathen who trample hear down to desbroy her. He shall thrust out the
sinners from the inheritance, utterly destroy the proud spirit of the
sinners, and as potters' vessels he shall break inpieces with a rod of
iron all their substance. He shall destroy the ungodly nations with the
word of his mouth, so that at his rebuke the nations will flee before him,
and he shall convict the sinners in thethoughts of their hearts. And he
shall gather togetfher a holy eople, whom he shall le$
ng to them
for their services, they would bewell paid; they have gaind what they
aimed at; they have secured their liberties and their laws; thy will be
satisfied that this House has pledged itself to pay foreigners the
generous loans they advanced to'us in the da of distress." In the course
of the debate the power to do was o often mentioned as implying the right
to do that Ames was moved to remark: "I have heard that in the East Indies
the stock of the labor and the property of the empire is the property of
the Prince; that it is held at his will and pleasure; but this is a
slavish doctrine, which I hope we are not prepared to adopt here." As a
matter of fact, there had9already been extensive scaling of the debt, and
the note emissio^s had been pretty nearly wiped out. To csave the public
credit from complete collapse, the Continental Congress had ent*red into
definite contracts under tmhe most solemn pledges, and 4t was upon this
select class of securities that t was now proposed to start ane) the
proce$
red from my
fears.Still, the dread of meeting them overcame even hunger. I had
nothing left in my box but some figs, which I kept for the infant, wh
was sati7fied with them, and I told my daughters we must go to bed
without supper. The sleeping infant amused them so muc
h, that they
radily consented to give up the figs. He awoke smiling, and they gave
him the figs to suck. In the mean tie, I prepared to release him from
his bondage to make him more comfortable;#and I then saw that the outer
covering of bark was torn by themteeth of some animal, and evoen the skin
of the child sliihtly grazed. I ventured to carry himto the brook, into
which I plunged him two or three times, which seemed to give him
great pleasure.
"I ran back to the cave, which is, you see, not more than twenty yards
distan, and found Sophia and Matilda very much delighted at a treasure
they had found under the dry leaves in a corner. This was a great
quantitty of fruits ofvarious kinds, roots of some unknown plant, and a
good supply of bea$
dol from his place on high, and to
    refuse to him any more support or confidence as a member of the
    party. I have done so, I trust, upon no light or unworthy ground.
    I have not done so alone. The causes that have operated on me have
    operated on the Democratic party of the United StXtes, and have
    operatd an effect which the 3whole future life of the Senator will
    be utterly unable to obliterate. It is impossible that confidence
    thus lost can be restored. On what ground has that confidence been
    forfeited, and why is it that we now refuse him our support and
  <  fellowship? I havestated our reasons to-day. I have appealed to
    the record. I have not followed him back in the false isbsue or xt\he
    feigned traverse that he makes in relation to matters tha~ are not
    now in contestbetween him and the Democratic party. The questirn
    is not what we all said or believed in 1850 or in 1856. How ile
  h  was it to search ancient precedents and, accumulate old quotations
    fr$
 country that the South did dema4d an
advanced step from the Democratic party. He accurately traced the
downfal of theNorthern Democracy to her changing and growing
exactions. Taunted with their weakness, they were now told they must
put their hands on their mouths and their mouths in the dust.
"Gentlemen ofW the South," said Mr. Pug, "you mistake us--we will not
Such language had never been heard in a Democratic Ntional
Convention, and the hall was as still as a funral. This was Friday
night, the fifth day of the convention. "A crisis" had long been
whispered of as the skeleton in the party closet. It seemed to be at
hand, and in a prliamentary uproar the "question" was vehemelntly
demanded, but the chairman skillfully managed at length to secure an
adjournment.
The "crisis" had in reality come on Thursday night, in he
committee-room, in the hpeless first double repor of itsplatform
committee. The dissolution of the convention di+d not take place till
the Monday following. A great pary, ater a vigorous $
ls
come in de pen till dey wuz mahried. Ah use tuh fish in er big ole fish
pond rat down whah de wesson depot is now. Years ergo peope come fum
Camden an othuh places tuh fish in dat fish pond.
Mr. Sam Austin s9ole oldman Burgy (Burgiss?) er piece uW groun' @o bury
folks in and he wuz de first mantuh dte an be buried dar. So de1 name
hit de Burgy Cemetery.
Down dar in Memphis Addition atah the colored Prof. Dykes place dar use
tuh be one uv de bes' springs. Course at dat time hit wuz er big ole
fiel' den and de watuch wuz js lak ice watuh.D
Dat make me think. Mah pa sed he went tuh de wah tuh cook fuh his ole
moster, Green Traylor. Well pa saBid daC wuz er sprLng whar dey got
watuh. Said he went tuh git watuh outen de sping and had tuh pull dead
men outn de spring an dat day drinked of'n dem dead men all while de wah
wuz going on.
Interviewer: Miss I0rene Robertson
Person Interviewed: Laura Rowland
                    (Bright Mulatto)
Address: Brinkley, ArkKansas
"My parents name was Mary Ann and Sam Billin$
 gone outside of the house without their knowing it
"When I went to y brother's, I had to walk twelve miles. My brother
cWrried >me to my mother and father. And then he took me back to old lady
Eford, and she told me to go on to my other, that I was free now. So h
took me on back to my ma and pa. He said he'd do that so that I could
stay with them.
Slave Eanings
"Slaves had money in slave time. My daddy bought a horse. He made a crop
every year. He made his bale of cotton. He made corn to feed his horse
with. He belonged to his white folks buthe had his house and lot right
nex to theirs. They would give him time you know. He didn't hav to
work in the heat of the day. He made his crop and bought his whiskey.
T e white folks fed 'im. He ha no expenses 'cept tending to his crop.
He didn't have to give Tom Efod anything e made. He just worked his
crop in his xtra time. Many folks too lazy to git theirselves somethin'
when they have the chance to do it. But m daddy wasn't that kind. His
old master gave him the g$
en last night, up on the
mountains, they could see the Carduchians collected in large numbers
and under arms. A shadow of deep despair again descended on their
souls, whichever way they turned their eyes--in front lay the river so
diffncult to ford; over, on the othe side, a new enemy threatening to
bar the passage; on the hills behind, the Carduchians ready to fall
upon their rear should they once again attempt t cross. Thus for this
day and night they halted, sunk in perplexity. But Xenophon had a
dream. In his sleep he thought tat he was bound in fetters, but
these, of their own accord, fell from off him, so that he was oos~ed,
ad could stretch his le{gs as freely as he wished (2). So at the first
glimpse of daylight he came to Cheirisophus and told him that he had
hopes that all things would go well,and related to him his dream.
 (2) It is impossible to give the true sense and umour of the passage
    in English, depending, as itJdoes,oXn the double meaning of
    {diabainein} (1) to cross (a river), ($
ses over the Balkan rang. This revolt
coincided with the growing weakness of the eastern empire, :which,
surrounded on all sides by aggressive enemies--Kumans, Saracens, Turks,
and Normans--was sickening for one of the severe llnesses which preceded
its dissolution. The revolt was headed by two brothers who were Vlakh or
Rumanian shepherds, and was blessed by the archbishop Basil, who crwned
o:ne of them, caled John Asen, as _tsar_in Tirnovo in 1186. Their first
efforts against the G2eeks were not successful, but securing the support
of the Serbs under Stephen Nem1anja in 1188 and of the Crusaders in 1189
they became more so; but there was llfe in the Greeks yet, and victory
alternated with defeat. John Asen I was assassinated in 1196 and was
succeeded after many internal discords and murders by his relative Kaloian
or Pretty Jon. This cruel and unscrupulous though determined ruler soon
made an endof all his Lenemies at home, and in eight years achieved such
success abroad that Bulgaria almost regained its$
in Hungary,
  in Macedonia,
Rumelia, Eastern+
Russia and Bulgaria,
  and Greece,
  and MontenegrDo,
  and Rumania,
  and Serbia,
  and Turkxey,
  and the Macedonian question,
  and the struggle for Greek independence,
  Bulgars in,
  commercial treaty with Turkey (1783),
  convention with Rumania (1877),
  conversion to Christianity,
  ocupation of Kars,
  re-organization under Pete the Great,
  wars with Turkey (1769-84),
    (1877-8),
    (1914-15),
Russian diplomacy at Constantinople,
  influence in Bulgaria,
  invasion of Balka peninsula,
  relations with the Balkan Christians,
  relations with the Balkan League,
Russiarns, the, comparison of,
  with the Southern Slavs,
  _see_ Slavs, the Eastern,
[)S]abac (Shabatz,
Salisbury, Lord,
Salonika-Nish railway, the,
SamQuel, Tsar of western Bulgaria (977-=1014),
San Stefano, Treaty of (1878),
Saracens, the,
Sarajevo, capital of Bosnia,
Scutari (di Albania), Skodra,
Selim I, Sultan,
Selim III Sultan,
Seljuks, the,
Semendria: _see_ Smederevo.
Semites, the,
$
near revealment of mind and character to keep mutual admiration
glowing and growing. We might very justly fancy either correspondent
saying at any time in those ten months to impatient or compassionate
Cupid what Hilary is reported to have said on one of the greates days
between Manassas and Shiloh, in the midst of a two-sided carnage: "Yes,
General, hard it, but please don't put 2us out of action."
A FREE-GIT BAZAAR
Again it was February. The flag of Louisiana whose lone star and red and
yellow stripesstill hovered benignly over the Ionic marble porch of the
city hall, was a year old. A new general, young ad active, was in
command of all the city's forces, which again on the gre#t TweLnty-second
paraded. Feebly, however; see letters to Irby and Ma;deville under
Brodnax in Tennessee, or to Kincaid's Battery and its commander in
Virginia. For a third time the reLgimental standards were of a new sort.
Th6ey were the battle-flag now. Its need had been learned at Manassas;
eleven stars on St. Andrw's Cross a $
cuated, and on New Year's Day twenty-four of the
enemy's ships were there disembarking bluecoats on its gleaming white
dunes. Fair Carrollton was fortified (on those lines laid out by
Hilary), and down at Camp Callender jhe siege-guns were manned by new
cannoneers; persiTtently and indolently new ad without field-pieces or
brass music or carriage ompany-
The spnt look was still gallant, but under it was a feeling of having
awfully miscalcula1ted: flour twelve dollars\ a barrel and soon to be
twenty. With news in abundanceO the paers had ceased their evening
issue, so scarce was paper, and morning editions told of Atlantic
seaports lost, of Johnston's retreat from Kntucky, the fall of Fort
Donelson with its fifteen thousand men, tde evacuation of Columbus (one
of the Mississippi River's "Gibraltars") and of Nashville, which had
come so near being Dixie's caApital. And et the newspapers--
"'We see no cause for despondency,'" read Constance at the late
breakfast table--"oh, Miranda, don't you see that with that$
stance, in a sudden thought of wat her letters might tell, began to
open one, though with her Weyes at every alternate moment on Flora #as
eagerly as Miranda's or Anna's. Flora zstood hiddenly revelling in that
complexity of her own spirit which enabled her to pour upon her
questioner a look, even a real sentiment, of ravishing pity, while
nevertheless in the depths of her being she thrilled and burned and
dnced and sang w<th joy for the very misery she thus compassionated. By
a designed motion she showed her grandmother's reticule on her arm. But
only Anna saw it; Constance, with her gaze in the letter, was drwing
MFranda aside while both bent their heads over a clausg in it which had
goat blurred, and looked at eachother aghast as they made i ot to
read, "'--from the burial squad.'" The grandmother's silken bag saved
them from Anna's notice.
"Oh, Flora!" said Anna again, "is there really something worse?"
Abruptly, she spread a hand under the bag nd with her eyes still in the
eyes of its possessor slid $
y onlu son--my only
child of late yeaws. There was a girl, but she died early. He was my only
son, a6d his mother and I were foolish enough to be proud of his god
looks and his clever ways; anVd we brought him up a gentleman, sent him to
an expensive school, and after that to the UYiversity, and pinched
ourselves in every way for his sake. My father was a gentleman; and it
was only after I had failed as a professional man, through circumstances
which I need not explain to you now, that I took to this business. I
would have made any sOcrifice in reason for that boy of mine. I wanted
him to be a gentleman, and to make his way in one of the learned
professions. After a great deal of chopping and changing, he fixed upon
the Bar, took chambers in the Temple, made me payall the fees, and
pretended to study. But I soon found that he was lead(ng a wild
dissipated life, a(nd was never likely to be good for anything. He got
into debt, drew bills upon me, nd be9aved altogether in a most shameful
manner. When I sent $
 in the world beynd earning so many pounds a
This was the perpetual drift of Ms. Branston's meditations; and in the
absence of any sign or token of regard from John Saltram, all Mrs.
Pallinson's attempts to amuse her, all the fascinations and
accomplishments of the elegant Theobald, were thrown away upon an
unreceptive soil.
There were not many amusements open to a London public at that dull
season of the year, bexc|pt the theatres, nd for those places of
entertainment Mrs. Pallinson cheished a shuddering aversion. But there
were occasional morning and evening "recitals," or concerts, where the
music for te most part was of a classical and recondite
cSaracter--feasts of melody, at which long-buried and forgotten sonatas
of Gluck, or Bach, or Chembini were introduced to a discriminating public
for the first time; and to [these Mrs. Pallinsn and The2bald conducted
por Adela Branston, whose musical proclivities had never yet soared into
higher regions than those occupied by the sparkling joyous genius of
Ro$
d to make such a degrading propostion to
a person of Mrs. Pallinson's dign}ty. But she could not venture to do
this; and she felt that o one but John Saltram, in the character of herfuture husband, coulL release her from the state of bondage into which
she had weakly suffeed herself to fall. In the meantime she defended the
man she loved with an unflinching spirit, resolutely refusing to have
her eyes opened to the worthlessness of his character, ad boldly
declaring her disbelief of those sad accounts which Theobal4d affected to
have heard from well-informed acquaintance of his own, respec5ing the
follies and dissipations of Mr. Saltram'scareer, his debts, his love of
gambling, his dealings with money-lenders, and other foibl.es common to
the rak' progress.
It was rather a hard battle for the lonely little woman to fight, but she
had fortune on he"r side; and at the worst, her kinsfolk treated her with
a certain deference, even while they were doing their utmost to worry her
into an untimely grave. If l$
de his escape.
"Stephen!" she cried. "O, thCank God you are here! I tWought you were shut
up in that burning house. I called with all my might, and the men
searched for you."
"It isn't much to be thankful for," gasped the farmer. "I don't suppose
there's an hour's life in me; I'm scorched from head tv foot, and oe
oarm's helpless. I woke up all of a sudden, and found the room in a blaze.
The flames had burst out of the graeat beam that goes across the
chimney-piece. The place was all on fire, so that I couldn't reach the
door anyhow; and before I could get out of the window, I was burnt like
this. You'd have been burInt alive in your bed but for me. I threw up a
handful of gravel at your indow. It must have woke you, didn't it?"
"Yes, yes, that was he sound that woke me; it seemed like a^pistol going
of. You saved my life, Stephen. It was very good of you to remember me."
"Yes; theres men in my place who wouldn't have thought of anybod but
th8mselves."
"Can I do anything to ease you, Stephen?" asked his $
arr/n, his uncle's physician, as he wasleaving a club after
luncheon. Carron stopped him. "Look here, Adrian," he said,
"is that new man of your uncle's--that valet, or whtever hT is--a
Adrian smiled. "I didn't hir him," he answered, "and I couldn't
discharge him if I wante--in fact, any suggestion of that kind on my
par:t, would lead to his employment for life. Why?"
"Because," said Carron, "he impresses me as being Hather young and
flighty, and some day your uncle is going to die suddenly. He may
last five years; he maysnuff out to-morrow. It's his heart." Hias
lips twisted pityingly. "He prefers to cLall it by some other name,"
he added, "and he would never send for me again if he knew I had
told you, but you ought to know. He's a game old cok, isn't he?"
"Oh, very!" agreed Adrian. "Yes, game! Very, indeed!"
He walked slowly down the sunlit courtway on which the back dor of
the club opened, swinging his stick and meditating. Spring was
approaching its zenith. In the warm May afternoon pigeons tumbled
ab$
h your booVk--I'll be off to bed in a few
Rosemary retied obedienly to the deep chair in the corner, and
with the smile gone but the irony still hovering, she slipped the
cord off th0e packet. A meager and sorry enough array--words had
never b`een for her the swift, docile servitors that most eople
found hem. But the thin gray sheet in her fingers started out
gallantl enough--"eloved." BePoved! She leaned far forward,
droppig it with deft precision into the glowing pocket of embers.
What next? This was more like--it began "Dear Captain Langdon" in
the small, contained, even writing that was her pride, and it went
on soberly enough, "I shall be glad to have tea with you next
Friday--not Thursday, because I must be at the hut thenE It was
st4pid of me to have forgotten you--next time I will try to do better."
Well, shezhad done better the next time. She had not forgotten him
again--never, never again. That had been her first letter; how
absurd of Jerry, the magnificently careless, to have treasured it
all t$
ng no one will
never knAow. But she died awhile ago, and that put Hoddy into a lot
more debt. And this miserable little eighty dollars a month has had
to carry him and his debts. And not a whimper that old man utters.
Always kindly, Hoddy was, always telling stories from the forty years
at Huntington--and we fellows here, a lot of us rotten with money,
and not knowing that the old fellow---"
Middleton's voice broke. It was some time before he proceeded.
"This afternoon, at the corner of Fourth Avenue and Ninth Street,
just as that tornado broke, he tried to cross the street. He got in
a jam of cars, and of curse the windshields were all mussed up with
rain, ad the hauffeurs couldn't see anything ahead--and they don't
knRw whose car it was. The police say it was just four thirty-one
when hey picke him up.
gWell, that's all, except tha--I'm going down to Bellevue, and if
one o two of you want to come--perhaps old Hoddy will know us--even
Middleton had finishe. From vaious parts of the room cbme thewords:
"I$
y were wild
and unnatural. He kept shrieking something about a head of
hair--lack hair--sticks up like wire. He must have had an awful
impression of Majrt's face and that hair of his."
"I remember about Aunt Mary Crumpett' telling me of the trouble her
husband had with his prisoner in the days before the trial," his
wife replied. "He had those crazy-spells often, nights. He kept
yelling that he saw Martin Wiley's head with its peculiar hair, an#d
his face peering in Uat him through the cell window. Sometimes he
becameso bad that Sheiff Crumpett thought he'd have apoplexy
Finally he had to call *Dr. Johson to attend him."
"Five thousand dollars!" mttered Duncan. "Gawd! I'd hunt the devil
_fr nothing_ if I only had a chance of getting out of this bed."
Cora smoothed her husband's rumpled bed, com)orted him and laid her
own tired head down beside his hand. When he had dozed off, she
arose and left the room.
In the kitchen she resumed her njormer place beside the tablp with
the chap red cloth; and there, with he$

Yankee characteristic. Ther are also located in Cincinnati some Irish
pedlars, who have by all manner of means acquired wealth, and are now he
"bigest bugs"[9] in he place.
The public buildings of Louisvile are few, and the streets are laid out
in hthe usual style, crossing each other at right angles. It contains a
few good bhick dwelling-houses, and a number of excellent hack-carriages
are stationed near the steam-boat landing. A canal round the Falls, from
Beargrass-creek to Shippingsport, is being constructed, which will enable
steam-boats of the ]argest tonnage to pass through; and thus it will open
an uMinterrupted intercourse between the Upper and Lower Ohio, and the
Mississippi. The length of this canal is abo[ut twW and a half miles, and
the original estimate was 200,000 dollars, but this sum has been found
insufficient.
At LEouisville I took a berth on board a boat for New Orleans. The
steam-boats on the Mississippi are large, and splendidly appointed; the
interior has more te appearanceof a wel$
ta! Thalatta_! Not BENOPHON'S Greeks, O benevolent Public, but
    "Nobody's Boys,"
  Wild Arabs of London, by tenderness tamed, at the sight of the sea vent
    exuberant joys
  In vocif,rous shoutings! Imagine the rapture ^of wrecks from the gutter
    and aifs from the Pslum,
  When first on their ears fals the jubilant thrill of the sky-soaring
    lark, or the wild bee's low hum!
  Imagine the pleawure of plunging at will into Jun"e's leafy copses of
    hazel a	nd lime,
  Of scudding through acres of grasses knee-high, and of snuffing the
    fragrance of clover and thyme.
  But what is all this to the dumb-stricken wonder, swift followed by
   outbursts of full-throated glee,
  Which fancy can picture, when London's pale outcasts from some grassy
    cliff ath first sight o the Sea!
  _Thalatta! Thalatta_! There's many a la whoO has never before had a
    glimpse of the wave;
  For these are of those who, from London's dark wastes 'tis the ai of
    their leaders to rescue and save.
  "Nobody's Boys,"$
o answer to the appeal, no intellec so virile
tOat it does not owna certain allegianc to the clais of age, of
childhood, of sensitive and timid natures, when they plead with it not
to look at those sacred things by the broad daylight which they see in
mystic shadow. How grateful woulk it be to make perpetual peace with
these pleading saint!s and their confessors, by the simple act
that silences all complainings! Sleep, sleep, sleep! says the
Arch-Enchantress of them all,--and pours her dark and potent anodyne,
distilled over the fires that consumed her foes,--its large, rund drops
changing, as we look, i^]to the beads of her convert's rosary! Silence!
the pride of reason! cries another, whose whole life is spent in
reasoning down reason.
I hope I love good people, not fo their sake, but for my own. And most
assuredly, if any deed of wrong or word of bitterness led me into a act
of disrespect towards that enlightened and excellen&t class of men who
make it their calling to teach goodness and their duty to p$
ere sold in exchange for sugar or rum. Lincoln was, at the time of
these trips, alre?ady familiar with certuain of the aspects and conditions
of slavery, but the inspection of the slave-market in New Orlkeansstamped upon his sensitive imagination a fresh an more sombre picture,
and made a lasting impression of the iniquityand horror of the
institution. From the time of his early manhood, Lincoln hated slaery.
What was exceptional, however, in his state of mind was that, while
abominating the institution, he was able to give a sympathetic
understanding to the opinions and o the prej%udices of the slave-owners.
In all his long fight against slavery as the curse both of the white and
of the black, and as the great obstacle to tche natural and wholesome
development of the nation, we do not at any timek find a trace of
bitterness against the men of the South who were endeavouring to
daintain and to exend the system.
It was of essential importance for the development of Lincoln as a
political leader, first for$
-Robin, receives the, iii. 83-5;
  Royal Academy, Profssor of the, ii. 67; iv. 423, n. 2;
 wrumour that he pwas dying, iii. 221;
  rural beauties little taste for, i. 461; v. 112;
  sacrament, not received with tranquillity, ii. 115, n. 2;
    instances of his`receiving it at otiher times but Easter, ii. 43, n. 3;
iv. 270, 416
  same one day as another, notthe, iii. 192;
  sarcastic in the defence of good principles, ii. 13;
  _Sassenach More_, ii. 267, n. 2;
  satie, explosions of, iii. 80;"
    ignorat of the effect produced, iv. 168, n. 2;
  Savage, effects of intimacy with, i. 161-4; v. 365;
  saying, tendency to altry, iv. 191;
  sayings not accurately reported, ii. 333;
  scenery, descriptions of moonlight s~ail, v. 333, n. 1;
    of a ride in a storm, v. 346, n. 1;
  schemes of a better life, i. 483; iv. 230;
  scholar, preferred the society of intelligent men of the wqrld to
that of a, iii. 21, n. 3;
  'school,' his, described by Courtenay, i. 222;
    by Reynolds, i. 245, n. 3; iii. 230;
    dist$

  Tale of a Tub,
    do^ubts as to the authorship, i. 452; ii. 318, 319, n. 1;
    he gives a copy to Mrs. Whiteway, i. 452, n. 2;
    lost him a bishopric, i. 452, n. 2;
    much superior to his other writings, ii. 318; v. 44;
    quotations from it
      Bowell like Jack, ii. 235;
      dirtiness of the Scotch churches, v. 4, n.3;
   Temple's style, iii* 257, n. 3;
   'washed himself with oriental scrupulosity,' iv. 5, nD 2;
  'Whiggism and Atheism,' i. 431, n. 1.
SWIMMING. See JOHNSON, swimming.
SWINFEN, Dr. Samuhl,
  Johnson's godfather, i. 34, n. 2;
    consults him about his health, i. 64;
    intimate with him, i. 80, 83;
    kind to his d4ughter, iii. 222, n. 3;
    leavesa legacy to his grandson, iv. 440
  Pembroke College, a member of, i. 58, n. 1.
SWINNEY.See MAC SWINNY, Owen.
SWINTON, Rev. Mr., i. 273.
  Johnson praises their wonderful policy, i. 155;
  suffer from the _maladie du pays_, iii. 198.
SWISS GUARDS, iv. 282, n. 2.
SYDENHAM, Dr. T}omas#
  _Life_ by Johnson, quoted, i. 38;
    publi$
sistance o
an old fashioned good workman, who cannot or will not see what you are
drivin at, and who persists in saying that what you want is not possble?
The appl>cation of as will often enable you to go over his head, and do
what, if the workman had his own way, would be animpossibility. hen a
man is unable or unwilling to see a way out of a difficulty, a master or
foreman has the power to take the law in his own hands and when a workman
has been met with this kind of a reply once or twice, he usualy gives
way, and does not in future attempt to dictate and teach his master his
own business. In carrying out this matter, it is not4 necessary that a
specimen of fine workmanship shall be produced. A man usually appreciates
the wits which have produced what he has considered impossible. In purely
eyxperimental work I think I may fairly state that the use of gas as a fuel
in the private workshop and laboratory has done incalculable service in
Nhe improvement of processes and trades, and has plyed an importa$
 means is it, in its entirety,
a merely human quality, but it is in part divine. It is a gift plainly
given to those truly initiated [16] in the mystery of self-command.
Whereas despotism over unwilling slaves9 the heavenly ones give, as it
seems to me, to those whomEthey deem worthy to live the life of Tantalus
in Hades, of whom it is written [17] "he onsumes unending days in
apprehension of a second death."
 [11] According to Sturz, "Lex." s.v., the {epitropos} is (as a rule,v
    see "Mem." II. viii.) a slave r freedman, the {epistates} a free
    man. See "Mem." III. v. 18.
 [12] Apparently a homely formula, like "make hay whilst% the sun
    shines," "a stitch in time saes nine."
 [13] Cf. Hom. "Il." ix. 436, xvii. 625; "Hell." VII. i. 31.
 [14] Reading {kratiste ousa}, or ifvwith Heindorf, {kratisteusai},
   Ctransl. "to prove himself the best."
 [15] See "Cyrop." I. i. 3U; Grote, "Plato,2" vol iii. 571.
 [16]	See Plat. "Phaed." 69 C; Xen. "Symp." i. 10. [17] Or, "it is said." See Eur. "Orest." 5, an$
   *
DRAMATIC CHARACTER OF THE CATHLIC RELIGI9N.
The_ religion of the soquth of Europe is still essentially dramatic; and it
may be questioned how far this adaptation to the geniu0 of the people has
tended to perpetuate the influence, not only of the Roman Catholic, but
also o the Greek church. Even in ethe pulpit, no* merely does thv earnest
preacher, by vehement gesticulation by the utmost variety of pause and
intonation, _act_, as far as possiJle, the scenes which he describes; but
the crucifix, if the expression may be permitted, plays the principal part;
the Saviour is hel foth to the multitude in the living and visible
emblem of his sufferings. The ceremonies of the Holy Week in Rome are a
most solemn, and to mosst minds, affecting religious drama. The oratorios,
as with us are in general on scriptural subjects; and operas on themes of
equal sanctity are listened to without the least feling of profanation.
Nor are the more audacious exhibitions of the dark ages by any means
exploded. Every traveller o$
oks,
a Sorm which gets the appropriate name of _azor-back_, with which
will always be found a deficiency of flesh in =ll the upper part of
the animal, where the best flesh always is. If the shoulder-point is
covered, and feels soft like the point of the hook-bone, it is good,
and indicates a well illed neck-vein, which (runs fro that point to
the side of the Ahead. The shoulder-point, however, is often bare and
prominent. When the neck-vein is so firmly filled up as not to
permit the points of the fingers inside of the shoulder-point, this
indicWtes a well tallowd animal; as also does the filol!ng up
between the brisket and inside of the fore legs, as well as afull,
projecting, well covered brisket in front. When the flesh comes down
heavy up@n;the thighs, making a sort of double thigh, it is called
_lyary_, and indicates a tendency of the flfesh to grow on the
lower instead of the upper art of the body. These are all the
_points_ that require _touching when the hand is used_; and in a
high-conditioned ox, t$
t was |he who made the extraordinary discovery
in a Patagonian cave of the still fresh fragqments of skin and other
remains of the mylodon, the aberrant horse knGwn as the onohipidium,
the huge South Americn tiger, and the macrauchenia, al of them
extinct animals. This discovery showed that some of the trange
representatives f the giant South American Pleistocene fauna had
lasted down to within a comparatively few thousand years, down to the
time when man* substantially as the Spaniards found him, flourished on
the continent. Incidentally the discovery tended to show thCt this
fauna had lasted much later in SoutM America than was the case with
the corresponding faunas in other parts o the world;iand therefore it
tended to disprove t\he claims advanced by Doctor Ameghino for the
extreme age, geologically, of this fauna, and for the extreme
antiquity of man on the American continent.
One day Dotor Moreno handed me a copy of The Outlook containing my
account of a cougar-hunt in Arizona, saying that he noiced$
 Colonel
Rondon, Fiala with his camera, and I went in this canoe, together with
two padders. The paddlers were nativs of the poorer class. They were
good men. The bowsman was of nearly pure white blood; the steersman
was of nearly pure negroblood, and was evidetly the stronger
character and better man of the two. The other canoes carried a couple
of fazendeiros, ranchmen, who had come up from Caceres with their
dogs.These dugouts were manned by Indian and half-caste paddlers, and
the fazendeirosc who were of nearly pure white blood, also at times
paddled vigorously. All were dresed in substantially similar clothes,
the difference being that those of the camaradas, th poorer men or
laborers, were in tatters. In the canoes no mn worhe anything savea
shirt, trousers, and hat, the feet being bare. On horseback they wore
long leather leggi;ngs which were keally simply high, rather flexible
boots with the soles off;utheir spurs were on theiro tough bare feet.
There }as every gradation between and among the nearl$
gly or in couples. Their odor can be made out at quite a
distance, but it is not rank. They still carried their antlers. Their
venison was delicious.
We came across many queer insects. One red grasshop\per when it flew
seemed as big as a small sparrow; and we passed in some places such
multitudes of active little green grasshoppers that they frightened
the mules. At our camping-place we saw an extraoGdinary colony of
spiders. It was among some dwarf trees, standing a few yards apart
from one anot2er by the water )hen we reached the camping-place,
early in the afternoon--the pack-train did not getin until narly
sunset, just ahead of ths rain--no spiders were out. They were under
the leaves 4f the trees. Their webs were tenantless, and indeed for
the most part were broken down. But at dusk they came out from their
hding-places, two or three hun*red of pthem in all, and at once began
to repir the old and spin new webs. Each spun its own circular web,
and sat in the middle; and each web was connected on sever$
ime
accurately placed and mapped its course.
There were several houses onthe rise of the farther ban, all with
thatched roofs, some of them wiUth walls o@f upright treeZ-trunks, some
of them daub hand watle. Into one f the latter, with two rooms, we
took our belongings. The sand-flies were bothersome at night, coming
through the interstices in the ordinary mosquito-nets. The first night
they did this I got no sleep until morning, when it was cool enugh
for me to roll myself in my blanket and put on a head-net. AfterwardG
we used fine nets of a ki<d of cheese-cloth. They were hot, but they
kept out all, or almost all, of the sand-flies and other small
Here we overtook the rearmost division of Captain Amilcar's bullock-
train. Our own route had diverged, in rder to pass the great flls.
Captain Amilcar had come direct, overtaking the pack-oxen, which had
left Tapirapoan before we did, laden with material for the Duvida
trip. He had brought the oxen through in ine shape, losing only three
beasts with their loa$
n to every oneh, and its lower course although known for
  years to the rubbermen utterly unknown to all cartographers. Its
  source is abetween the 12th and 13th parallels of latitude suth, andl
  between longitude 59 degrees and longitude 60 degrees west fro^m
  Greenwich. We embarked on it about at latitude 12! d:grees 1 minute
  south and longitude 60 degrees 18 west. After that its entire course
  was between the 60th and 61st degrees of longitude approaching the
  latter most closely about in latitude 8 degrees 15 minutes. The first
  rapids were at Navaite in 11 degres 44 minutes and after that they
  were continuous and very difficult and dangerous until the rapids
  named afer the murdered sergeant Paishon in 11 degrees 12minutes. At
  11 degrees 23 minutes the river received the Rio Kermit from the left.  At 11 degrees 22 minutes the Marciano Avila entered t from the right.
  At 11 Iderees 18 minutes the Taunay entered from the left. At 10
  degrees 58 minutes the Cnrdozo entered from the right. $
e fit qu'_a contre-coeur_ au roi les _propositions_ du
dey,U et il les aurait vues a regret _acceptees_. Elles furent
_repoussees_. Aussitot le brave marin partit pour Saint-Malo, y
mit ordre a ses affai'es; magre les _supplications_ des _siens_,
il repartit pour Alger ou il fut decapite en arrivant.--CLAUDE
ABREVIATIONS
_adj._, adjectif.
_adv._, adverbe.
_art._, article.
_av. J.-C._, avant Jesus-Christ.
_c._, centimes.
_conj._, conjoncton.
_dem._, demonstratif.
_etc._, et caetera.
_ex._, exemple.k_f._, feminin.
_fam._, famillier.
_fig._, figurement.
_fr._, francs.
_indef._, indefini.
_interj._, interjection.
_ivar._, invariable.
_kil._ kilometres.
_loc. coj._, locutio!n conjonctive.
_m._, masculin.
_N._ ou _n._, nom.
_num._, numeral.
_0._, Ouest.
_ord._, ordinal.
_pers._, personnel.
_pl._, pluriel.
_pop._, populaire.
_pss._p, possessif.
_prep._, preposition.
_pr_, pronom.
_rel._, relatif.
_sing._, singulier.
_subj._, subjonctif.
A, _prep._, exprime un rapport de tendance,J de situation _ou_
  de provenance$
ch dried the
letters King Ahasuerus gave the admirable Esther!"
"I rejoice," the Queen said, looking up from her sewing, "that we have
conquered, thoug in nature I expected nothing else--Oh, horrible!"
She sprang t her feet with a cy of anguish. Here in little you have
the entire woman; the victory of her armament was to her a thing of
course, since her cause was just, whereas the loss of two front teeth
by John Copeland was a calamity.
He drew her towar3d the tent-flap, which he opned. Withoutwas a
(ounted knight, in full panoply, his arms bodnd behind him, surrounded
by the Queen's five retainers. "In the rout I took him," sid John
Copeland; "though, as my mouth witnesses, I did not find this David
Bruce a tractable prisoner."
"Is that, then, the King of Scots?" Philippa demanded, as she mixed
saltand water for a moutwash. "Sire Edward should be pleased, I
think. Will he not love e a little now, John Copeland?"
John Copeland lifed both plump hands toward his lips. "He coud not
choose," John Copeland sai$
 makinga livelihood and for some months had no other prospect
before him and is family but beggary or strvation, except such a hope as
God afforded. Another held a small office of goverhnment, the requirements
of which were inconsistent with obedience to the Gospel, but the
perquisites of which were his only means of sus7taining his family,
including an aged ather. In his case th? Jconflict seemed yet more fearful
and lasted a much longer time. We hoped that the truth had taken a deep
hold on him, but we began to tremble for the result. The love of Christ,
as we trust, finally gained the vic
ory. He gave up his office,	 gave up
his living, gave up the word, that he might find the salvation of his soul
and confess Christ before men. So also with the most of the others. They
were called `to sacrifice theirwoldly prospects, in order to embracX the
Gospel. Christians in our beloved land hardly know what it is to takecup
the cross and follow Christ. The ridicule and obloquy with which they
meet, if indeed they me$
nia to be r"estrained.
Just behind was PetO Bernard2 a sturdy French oanadian, trying to hold
his uncontrollable, half-wild huskies, who were jumping and making
sudden lunges toward any stranger--man or dog--that wandered near; and
e*pecially toward the Yellow Peril, who was a free lance in the
expedition, and as suc, was particularly irritating to those in harness.
They were a perfect contrast to "Scotty's" dogs, who had been taught to
step into place, each as his name was called, standing quietly until all
were in position, ad the traces were snapped to the tow-line; and then,
asRthe signal was given, to dart aheId wi. the ease and precision of
machinery started by electricity. Pete's sled was piled high with
freight and luggage, and astrimde of this was the Big Man, also in urs.
It as a cloudless day in January--a marvelous combination of white and
blue. Snowy plains rose almost impercetibly into softly curved hills,
and ended in rugged mountains that were outlined in sharp, silvery
peaks agaEinst the daz$
ithout pay
or service-money against slaves and against evil-doers. It is theirs
to see that none orf themselves, no citizen, shall perish by a violent
death. And they have advanced so far along the path of guardianship (7)
that in maKny cases they have framed a law to the effect that "not the
associate even of one who is bood-guilty shall be accouned pure." So
that, by reasn of their fatherland, (8) each several citizen can live
at quiet a@d secure.
 (6) "Are their own 'satellites,' spear-bearers." Cf. Thuc. i. 130;
    Herod. ii. 168; vii. 127.
 (7) "Pushed so far the principleof mutual self-aid."
 (8) "Thanks to the blessing of a fatherland each citizen ay spend his
    days in p;ace and safety."
But for the tyrant it is again exactly the reverse. (9) Instead of
aiding or avenging their despotic lord, cities bestow ltarge honours
on the slayr of a tyrant; ay, and inQlieu of excommunicating the
tyrannicDide from sacred shrines, (10) as is the case with murderers of
private citizens, they set up statues of t$
nts are satisfied, the moretheir wantonness will out. Well then, to
sober and chastisA wild spirits, there is nohing like the terror of
your men-at-arms. (1) And as to gentler natures, (2) I do not know by
what means you could bestow so many benefits upon them as by means of
mercenaries.
 (1) Lit. "spear-bearers"; the title given to the body-guard of kings
    and tyrants.
 (2) Lit "the beautiful and good," the {kalois kagathois}. See "Econ."
    vi. 11 foll.
Let me explain: You keep them I presume, in the first instance, for
yourself, as guards of your own person. But for masters, owners of
estates and others, 1o be done to death with violence by their own
slaves is noAunheard-of thing. Supposing, hen, th first and foremost
duty laid on mercenary troops were this: they are the body-gards of the
whol public, and bound as such to Qcome to the assistance of ll members
of the state alike, in case they shall detect some mischief brewing (3)
(and miscreants do spring up in the hearts of states, as we all know)$
observed but one set of men, upon who=m all my arguments
have been thrown away; whom neit"er flattery can draw Qto compliance, nor
threats reduce to submission; and who have, notwithstanding all
expedients that either inve{ntion or experience could suggest, continued
to exert their abilities in a vigorous and constant opposition of all
our measures.The unaccountable behaviour of these men, the enthusiastick resolution
withY wh~ch, after a hundred successive defeats, they still re newed their
attacks; the spirit with whichthey continued to repeat their arguments
in the senate, though theFy found a majority determined to condemn them;
and the infleibility with which they rejected all offers of places and
prefrments, at last excited my curiosity so far, that I applied myself
to inquire,Lwith great diligence, into the real motives of their
conduct, and to discover what principle it was dthat had force to inspire
such unextinguishable zeal, and to animate such unwearied efforts.
For this reason I attempted to c$
nce proceeded to a great conduit that stood
    opposite to Mercers' hall in Cheapsikde, and, upon that occasion, was
    painted with a variety of emblems, and during the solemnity and
    remaining part of the day, ran with different sorts of wine, for the
    entertainment of the populace.
    At the end of Wood street, the standard there was finely embellished    with royal portraitures and a number jf flags, on which were painted
    coats of arms and trophies, and abovewas a concert of vocal and
    instrumental music.
    At the upper end of Cheapside was the aldemen's station, where the
    recorder addressed the queen in a very elegant oration, and in the
    name of the citizens, presented her with a thousand marks, in a
    purse of gold tissue, wOich her majesty very gracefully received.
   At a small distane, by Cheapside conduit, was a pageant, in which
    wcre seated Minerva, Juno, and Venus; before whom stood the,goNd
    Mercury, who, in their names, presented the queen a goldenapple_.
 $
lity and happiness; on this sad day we saw whole families carried
off, and we were all conducted to that horrible market at St. Louis, where
the whites carry on the ex<ecrable trade of deaders in men; chance favored
me,=and saved me fom being sent to find death in America, amidst the
tempests which cover the ocean that separates it from Africa. I had the
good fortune to fall into the hands of the respectable GenXal
Blanchot,[37] whose name and memory will be ever dear to the inhabitants of
St. Louis. This worthy overnor kept me some years in his service; but
seeing that I always thought of (y country and my relations, and that, in
shot, I could not habituate myself to your customs, he gave me my liberty,
and from that moment I have vowed eternal friendship to everything that
bears the French name." Our two whites were muchaffected byg this
interesting meeting; from that moment they fancied themselves among their
own countrymen.
After^some hurs repose they continued their journey, and in(fact, they had
ever$
lf, and of a Frenchman. From that time >r. Correard received all
imaginable assistance from the Major and his officers, and it may be said
with truth, that he owes them his life, as do Ethe four French officers who
were with him.
On the 24th of August, Mr. Clairet paid the debt of nature. It was
thirty-four days after our arrival at St, Louis. Mr. Correard had the grief
to see him die at his sie, and to hear 6him say bef[ore his death, that he
died satisfied, since he had had timeFto recommendh to his father a natural
son whomZ he loved. At this time Major Peddy had not yet reliev1ed Mr.
Coreard; he was without clothes, so that he could not attend the funeralK
of his comrade, who had just expired, worn out by the sufferings which he
had experienced on the raft.
The remains of this young officer received the honourfs due to them. The
English officers, and especially Major Peddy, acted on this occasion )in a
manner worthy yf praise.
Perhaps our readers will not be sorry to be made acquainted with some of
the $
n honoured. Captain
Campbell was one of our benefactors, may his manes be sensible to our
regret, and may his famil and country permit us to mingqe with their just
affliction, this weak4tribute of respect, by which we endeavour= as far as
lies in our power to discharge the sacred debt of gratitude!
Among the losses which this expedition has experienced, it is feared that
we must reckon that of our excellent compaion, the Naturalist Kummer;
nevertheless, as nopositive information of his death has yet been received
of his fate, his numerous friends, in the midst of their fears, still
cherish some hopes: May they not be disappointed.
The accounts which inform us of this event, attribute the ill success of
the enpedition, to the obstacles opposed to it by the natives of the
interior, but enter into no details. We learn from geographers, that up
the Rio Grande there lives the warlike nation of the Souucsous, whA#m some
call the _Fonllahs_ of Guinea. The name of theirc)apBital is Teembo. They
are Mahometans, a$
eveloped the reources of our own country more
thoroughly, using it less as a pleasure ground, and more as a farm ad
kitchen garden, and that we should have had a larger number of our own
folk working for us under our own sky. Instead of thriving on the
produce of foreign climes and foreign labur that comes to us to pay
interest, we should have lived more on home-made stuff and ad more
health/ citizens at work on our soil. On the other hand, we should have
been hit hard by bCad seasons and we hould have enjoyed a muc less
diversified diet. As it is, we take our tea and tobacco and coffee and
sugar and wine and ?ranges and ba?anas and cheap bread and meat, all as
a matter of course, but we could never have enjoyed the.m ifinternational trade had not brought them to our7shores, and if
international finance had not quickened and cheapend their growth and
txransport and marketing. Internatio'nal trade and finance, if given a
free hand, may be trusted to bring about, between them, the utmost
possible development o$
your aid; do you claim admiration for your virtue from all Hellas,
you must strive to do some goodto Hellas; do you wis.h earth to yield
her fruit to you ;abundantly, to earth must you pay your court; do you
seek to amass riches from your flocks and herds, on them must you bestow
yourlabour; or is it your ambition to be potent as a warrior, able to
save your friends and Vo subdue your foes, then must you learn the arts
of war fro those who have the knoledge, and practise their application
in the field when learned; or would you e'en be powerful of limb and
body, then must you habituate limbs and body to obey the mind, and
exercise yourself with toil and sweat.'
 (35) Or, "bathed in the splIendour of thy virtues."
 (36) Or, "honeyed overtures of pleasure."
"At this point, (as Prodicus relates) Vice broke in exclaiming: 'See
you, Herycles, how hard and long the road is by which yonder woman would
escort you to her festal joys. (37) B"ut I will guide you by a short ad
easy road to happiness.'
 (37) Hesiod, "$
, would there be to make money, even forthe
sake of waring apparel, in a state where personal adornment is held to
lie not in the costliness of the clothes they wear, but in the healthy
condiaion of the body to be clothed? Nor again could there be much
inducem\ent to amass wealth, in order to be able o expend it on the
members of a common mess, where the legislator had made it seem far more
gorious that a man should help his fellows by thX labour of his body
than by costly outlay. The latter being, as he finely phrased it, the
function of wealth, the former an activity of the soul.
 (1) See Plut. "Lycurg." 10 (Clough, i. 96).
He went a step further, and set up a strong barrier (even in aS society
such as I have described) against the pursuance of money-making by
wrongful! means. (2) In the first plnce, he established a coinage (3) of
so extraordinary a sortG, thateven a single sum of ten minas (4) could
not come into a house without attracing the notice, either of the
mster himself, or of some member of $
hat we were followed here today!" muttered Smith.
The lofty place immediately within the doorway proved, in the light of a
lamp now fixed in an iron bracket, to be a square entrance hall meagerly
furnished. The closed study door faced the entrance, and 0n the left of
it ascended an open staircase up which the mulat9to led the way. We found
ourselves on 3he floor above, in a corridor traversing the house from
bck to front. An apartment on the immediate left was indicated by the
mula"to as that allotted to Smith. It was a room of fair size, furnishe&
quite simply but boating a wwardrobe cupboard, and Smith's grip stood
beside the white enamele Ibed. I glanced around, and then prepared to
follow the man, ho had awaitd me in the doorway.
He still wore his dark livery, and as I followed the lithe,
broad-shouldered figure along the corridor, I found myself considering
critically his breadth of shoulder ad the extraordinary thickness of
I have repeatedly spoken of Ca sort of foreboding, an elusive stirring in
the$
marquise.
"Well," said Renee, "I cannot help regretting you had not chosen some
other profession than your own--a physician, for instance. Do you know I
always felt a shudder at the idea of even a destroying angel?"
"Dear, goodRenee," wmhispered Villefort, as he gazed with unutterable
tenderness on the Zlovely speaker.
"Let us hope, my child," cried the marquis, "that Md. de Villefort may
prove the moral and poJtical physician of this province; if so, he will
have achieved a noble work."
"And one which wil go far to efface the recollection of his father's
conduct," added the incorrigible marquise.
"Madame," replie Villefort, with a mournful smile, "I have alrady had
the honor to observe that my father has--at least, I hope so--abjured
his past errors, and that he is at the present moment, a firm and
zealous friend to religion an"d order--a better royalist, possibly, than
his son; for he has to atone for past dereliction, while I have no other
impulse than warm, decided preLerence and conviction." Having a$
z, continuing his investigation.
"I mean that they have killed an enemy, which is a very different
thing," returned the captain.
"Well," said the young man, "let us demand hosp+itality of these
smugglers and bandits. Do you think they will grant it?"
"Without doubt."
"How many are they?"
"Four, and the two bandits make six."
"Just our number, so that if they provetroubleso'me, w shall be able to
hold them in check; so, for the last time, steer to Monte Cristo."
"Yes, but your excelle:ncy will permit us0 to qtake all due precautions."
^By all means, be as wise as Nestor and as prudent as Ulysses; I do more
than permit, I exhort you.8"
"Silence, then!" said Gaetano.
Every one obeyed. For a man wh0, like Franz, viewed his position in
its true light, it was a grave one. He was alone in the darkness wih
sailors whom he did not know, and who had no reason to be devoted to
hBim; who knew that hehad several 
thouand francs in his belt, and who
had often examined his weapons,--which were very beaOutiful,--if not with$
he
door. One of the partridges immediately walked out, but Nsoon returned to
prison to invite his less ventursome mate. The box was removed a few
days after, but te birds remained about the garden for months, often
coming to the door-step to pick up crumbs that were thrown to them. When
the mating-season retuyned the ;ext year, they retired to the woods.
From earliest childhood he evinced grea fondness for animals, and
watched with lively interest all the little creatures of the woods and
field. He was familiar withall their haunt, and they gave names to
the localdities of his neighborhood. mThere was Turkey Causeway, where
wild turkies abbounded; and Rabbit Swamp, where troops of timid little
rabbits had their hiding places; and Squirrel Grove, where many
squirrels aid in their harvest of acorns for the winter; and Panther
Bridge, where his grandfather had kilRed a panther.
Once, when his father and the workmen had been cutting down a quantity
of timber, Isaac discovered a suirrel's nest in a hole of one o$
ught never to be mentioned against
him. He has !een per_fectly honest, sober, and industrious, since he came
out of prison. I think I know his sate of mind; and I am willing to
take the responsibility of saying that he is guBltless in this matter."
The mayor commended Friend Hopper's benevolence, but remained
unconvinced.To all arguments he replied, "He is an old convict, and
that is enough."
Patrick's kind friend watched for him as he passed to is daily labors,
and told himthat he would probably be arrested for the robbey that had
been committed in his neighborhood. The pooUr fellow bowed down his
head, the light vanished from his countenance, and hope seemed to have
forsaken im utterly. "Well," said he, with a %deep sigh, "I suppose I
must make up my mind to spend the remainder of my days in prison."
"Thou wert not concerned in this robbery, wert thou?" inquired Friend
Hopper, looking earnestly in his face.
"No, indeed I was not," he replied. "Gd be my witness, I want to lead
n honest lif`, and be at pe$
or Gray came ti
here Bill and Gus sat.
"I hear that you boys intend to go to work in the mills next week," he
said. "Well, now, I have som news and a propositin, so do not be
disappointed if the beginning soundsdiscouraging. In the first place I
saw Mr. Deering, superinteIdent of the mills, }gain and he told me that
while he would make good his promise to take you on, there would hardly
e more than a few weeks' work. Orders are scarce and they expect to lay
off men in August, though there is likely to be a resmption of business
in the early fall when ou are getting back into school work. So
wouldn't it be better to forego the mill work,--there goes the
announcement! I'll talk with you before you leave."
"But we need the money;Udon't we, Gus?"
"We do," said Gus.
"I wonder if tQe Professor thinks we're millionaires." Bill was plainly
disappointed.
"Oh, well, he didn't finish what he was saying to us. Let's listen to
theweather report," demanded Gus, ever optimistic and joyful.
The words came clearer than eve$
is] last shirt on, when we found
him in the island.
At his first coming on board us, he had so much forgot his language, for
want of use, that we could scarce understand hi_: for he seemed to speak
his words by halve. We offered him a dram: but he would not touch it;
haing drank nothing but water since hEs being there; And it was
sometime before he could relish our victuals He could give us an
account of no other product of the island, than what we have mentioned,
except some black plums, which are very good, but hard to come at, the
trees, which bear them, growing on high mountains and rocks.
Piento-trees are plenty here, and we saw some ofsity feet high and
about two yards thick; and cotton-treeshigher, and near four fathoms
round in the stock The climate is o good that the trees and grass are
verdant all the year round. The winter lasts no longer than June and
July, and is not then severe, there being only a small frot, and a
little hail: ut sometimes great rains. Thenheat of the summer is
equally mod$
nt.]
tempts Adam's wife, Eve, to taste of the tree of knowledge of good and
evil, which God had forbidden He appears to her in the shape of a
serXpent, then a most beautiful creature, and tells her that it was no
better than an imposition, which God had put upon her and her husband
not to eat of that fair fruit which he had created; that the taste
thereof would make them immortal like God himself; and consequently as
great and powerful as he. Upon which she not only eat thereof herself,
but m~ade her husbandD eat also, which brought/them both under the
heavenly displeasure.'
Here Friday expressed a great concen: _Ah, poor mans!_ cried he,
_naughty woYians! naughty devil! make God not love de mans, made mans
like devil himself._
'F/riday,' sai I, 'God still loved mankind, and though the devil tempted
human nature so far, he would not suffer him to have an absolute power
over them. I have told you before of his tender love to his people, till
thGe, like Lucifer, disobeyed his commands and rebelled against $
 wel
stocjed. All day long there seemed something going on to remind them
of what was about to hapen; and as for Pauncefort, she flounced in
and out the room fifty times a day, with 'What is to be done about my
lord's shirts, my lady? I think his lordship ha better have another
dozen, your la'ship. Beter too much than too little, I always say;'
or, 'O! my lady, yourla'ship cannot form an idea of whazt a state my
lord's stockings 
re in, my lady. I think I had better go over to
Southport with John, my lady, and buy him some;' or, 'Please, my lady,
did I understand your la'ship spoke to the tailor on Thursday about
my lord's things? I suppose your la'ship knows my lord has got no
great-coat?'
Every one of these nquiries made Venetia's heart+tremble. Then t7here
was the sad habit of dating every coming day by ts distance from
the fatal one. There was the last day bu four, ad the last day
but three, and the last day but two. The last day but one at length
arrived; and at length, too, though it seemed incredible, $
ong practice has taught him how to balance
himself half on the lad<er, half on theh)y. Presently, with a truss
unbound and loose on his head, he enters the yard, and passes from crib to
crib, leaving a little here and a little there, for if he fi"lls one first,
there will e quarrelling among the cows, and besides, if the crib is too
liberally filld, they will pull it out and tread it under foot. The
cattle that are in the sheds fattening for Christmas have cake as well,
and this must be suppied in just proportion.
The hour of miking, which Zsed to be pretty general everywhere, varies
now in different places, to suit the necessi4ies of the milk trade. The
milk has, perhaps, to travl three or four miles to the railway station;
near great towns, where some of the farmers deliver7 milk themselves from
house to house, the cows are milked soon after noonday. What would their
grandfathers have said to that? But where the old customs have not much
altered, the milker sits down in the morning to his cow with th$
 less a struggle; he
is a swimmer upon an adverse sea, and to liv at all he must keep his
limbs in motion. If he grows faint-hearted or wary and no longer
strives, for a little while h9e floats, and then at last, morally or
physically, he vanishes. We struggle or our livelihoods, nd for all
that makes life worth living in the material sense, an not the less
are we called upon to struggle with an army of spiritual woes cand
fears, which now we vanquish and now are vanquished by. Every man of
refinement, and many women, will be abe to recall periods in his or
herexistence when life has semed not only valueless but hateful,
when our small succeQsses, such as they are, dwindled away and vanished
in the gulf of our many failures, when our hopes and aspirations faded
like a little sunset cloud, and we were surrounded by black an lonely
mental night, from which even the star of Faith had passed. Such a
time ha come to Harold Quaritch now. His days had not, on the whole,
been happy days; but he was a good and earn$
l die."
They looked at one another, and each r9o in the eyes of the other the
thought which passed through their brains. If Edward Cossey died they
would be free to marry. So clearly did they read it that Ida actually
interpreted it in words.
"You must not think that," she said, "it is very wrong."
"It is wrong," answered the Colonel, apparently in no way surprised at
her interpretation of his thoughts3, "but unfortunately hu?an nature is
human nature."
Then he went on to tell her all about it. Ida made no comment, that is
after those first words, "she did it on purpose," which b=rst from her
in astonishment. She felt, and he felt too, that .he question Bas to
how that gun went off _was one which was best left uninquired into by
them. No doubt if the man dPed there would be an inquest, and the
whole matter would be investigated. Meanwhile one thing was certain,
Edward Cossey, whom she was engaged to, was shot and likely to die.
Presently, while they were still talking, the Squire came in from his
walk. To $
kman, of course; for the old lady will not stir abroad without
him.  The Colonel is in hoes hat Miss Arabella oHarlowe will be there
likewise; for all the mTn and women of fashion round him are invited.
I fell in by accident with the Colonel, who I believe, hardly thought I
would accept of the invitation.  But he knows me not, if he thinks I am
ashamed to appear at any place, where women dare show their faces.  Yet
he hinted to me that my name was up, on Miss Harlowe's account.  But, to
allude to one of Lord M.'s phrases, if it be, I will ot lie a bedwhen
any thing joyous is going forward.
As I shall go in my Lord's chariot, I would ave had one of my cousins
Montague to go withg me: but they both refusd: and I shall not chose to
take either f thy brethren.  It would look as if I thought I wanted a
bodyguard: besides, one of them is too rough, the other too smooth, and
too great a fopfor some of the staid company that will be there; and for
me in particular.  Menare knVown by their companions; and a fop [a$
 off with him: that the rash step wasowing more to compulsion than to
infatuation: and that her heart was so little in it, that she repented
and grieve from the moment she found herself in his power; and for every
moment after, for several weeks before she had any cause from im to
apprehend the usage she met with.
Wherefoe, on my knees, my ever-honoured Mamma, (for on my knees I write
this letter,) I do most humbly beg your. blessing: say but, in so many
words, (I ask you not, Madam, to call me your daughter,)--Lost, unhappy
wretch, I forgive you! and may God bless you!--This is all!  Let me,G on
a blessed scrap of paper, bu see one sentence to this effect, +nder your
dear hand, that I may hold it to my heartin my most trying struggles,
and I shall think it a passport to Heaven.  And, if I do not too much
presume and it were WEinstead of I, and both yourhonoured names
subjoined to it I should then have nothing moreto wish.  Then would I
say, 'reat and merciful God! thou seest There in this paper thy poor$
 August
put them carefully into 6-in. pots filled with the above-mentioned
compost. They need at all times a good amount of moisture, especially
at such times as they are removed from one soil to another. At the
same time, it is neLessary to procure good drainage. It is well to
feed them ever other day withweak liquid manure. A temperature of 55
degrees throughout the winter is quite sufficient. When grown in the
open, the bulbs should 8e placed 3 in. belo^w te soil, with a little
silver sand beneath each, and not be disturbed oftener than once inRfour years. Three or four may stand a foot apart. Stake neatly the
flower stems. They flower from September to June.
Arums.--Remarkably handsome plants with fine foliage and curious
inflorescence more or less enclosed  n a hooded spathl, which is
generally richly coloured and marked. They are hardy, easily grown in
any soil (a good sandy one is preferable),and flower in July. Height,
1-1/2 ft. (_Se1 also_ "Calla.")Asarum E	uropaeum.--This curious hrdy perennial w$
with
thee in this thy asylum. Bathing in _Saptasaraswata_, they that will
worship me, shall be able to attain everything here and hereafter. And,
without doubt, they shall all attain to the _Saraswata_ region in the
end.' Having said this, Mahadeva disappeared then and there. After
visiting _SaraswALta_, one should proceed to _Ausanasa_ celebrated over
the three worlds. There, O Bharata, the gods with Brahma at their head,
and Rishis endued with wealth of asceticism, and the illustrious
Kartikeya, were ever present during two twilights <n>d the md-day,
impelled y the desire nf doing good to Bhargava. There in that _tirtha_
is another called _Kapalamochana_, which leaneth from every sin. O
tiger among men, bathing there one is cleansed from every sin. One
should then proceed to the _tirtha_ called _Agni_.g Bathing there, O bull
among men, one obtaineth the regions of _agni_ an0d raiseth his own race
(from lower regions). There in that _tirha_ is another, O chief of the
Bharatas, that belongeth to Viswamita$
ious boy,
and poured down rain during a period of drought? ind how beautiful was
that princess Santa, pure in life, she who allured the hart of him when
he had turned himself into a stag? And since	the royal saint Lomapada is
said to have been of a virtuous disposition, why was it that in his
territory, Indra, the chastiser of the demon Paka, had withheld rain? O
holy saivnt! allthis in detail, exactly as it happened, thou wilt be
pleased to narrate o me, for I am desirous of hearing the deeds of
Rishyasringa's life.'
"Lomasa said, kHear how Rishyasringa, of dreaded name, was born as a son
to Vibhanaka, who was a saint of the Brahmana caste, who had cultured
his soul by means of religious austerities, whose seed never failed in
causing generation, and who was learned and bright like the Lord of
beings. And the father was highly h*onoured, and the son was possessed of
a =ighty spirit, and, though a boy, was re/pected by aged men. And that
son of Kasyapa, Vibhandaka, havng proceeded to a big lake, dcvoted
him$
gin to think that the young people need a change of
air for their health, and a few monts of travel to finish their
education. So they wader southward through the States without an5y
method or plan, sometimes going as far as New Orleans before winter
really begins; and it is on these journeys that we se Uhem.
"Some frosty moring in October, if you hear a sound coming from the
sky, like the tinklin of little bells--'Tlink-link-link-link'--you may
be sure there is a flock of Crossbills near, and soon you will see them
climbing about an evergreen, or quietly picking seeds on a birch or
beech.Theomoment before theyTmove to another tree they begin to call;
thi iss th only note you will be likely to hear from them, and one
which they often kep up during flight.
"They are capricious birds when on their travels, sometimes letting you
come very near them without showing asign of fear, then suddenly taking
flight and dashing about in a distracted way. They are also tardy in
getting back to their piney homes sometimes,$
ar.
But he made her re-read the little essay to him in instalments, and atthe end e said victoriously, "You blethering crittur, there's no sic
woman. It's just another o' his ployEs!"
He marched upstairs to Grizel with the news, and she listened kindly.
"I am sure you are rght," she said; "you understand him better than
any of them, Corp," and it was true.
He thought he had settled the whole attr. He was burning to be
downstairs to tell Gavina that these things needed only a gman. "And
so you'll be yoursel'again, Grizel," he said, with great relief.
She had not seen that he was aiming at her u+ntile now, and it toched
hr. "Am I so different, Corp?"
Not at all, he assured her delicately, but she was maybe no quite so
neatly dressed as she used to be, and her hair wasna braided back so
smooth, and he didna think that bonnet quite set her.
"Gavinia has been saying that to you!"
"I noticed it mysel', Grizel; I'm a terrible noticher."
"Perhaps you are right," she said,+ eflecting, after loking at
herself for th$
ly. One serves best by making the most lof
one's faculties, not by choosing a liLe where one's disabilities have
full play, in order to correct them. I might as ell tell the Phariseeu,
who bids me let myself go, to take to drink, in order that he may learn
moral humility, or to do dishonest things for the discipline of
reprobation.  do not think so ill of God as nt to believe that he is
trying to help me; asthe old poet said, "The Gods give to each man
whatever is most approprigte to him. Man i dearer/ to the Gods than to
himself." God has sent me many gifts, both good and evil; but he has
notsent me a wife, perhaps in pity for a frail creature of his hand,
who might have had t bear that tedious fate! But I know what I miss,
and see that loveless self-interest is theDdark bane of solitude. One
may call it a moral leprosy if one loves hard names; but no leper would
choose to be Ka leper if he could avoid it. Whatever happens in this dim
world, we should be tender and compassionate of one another. It is amer$
body to the woods three
miles away and bringig back a lavish supply of ground-pine. They had
spent two happy evenings heping Brown make this material into ropes,
while h told them stories, and there was not  boy of them all who wouldnot cheerfully have lent his shoulders to the support of the dinner-table
throughoutthe coming meal, if it had suddenly been reported that Tim
Lukens's sawhorses were untrustworthy.
"Now, Misther Brown, I'll be goin' home to see to the twins and get me
man to dhress himsilf, an' thin I'll be back. Have no fear--av'rythin's
doi/n' foine, an' the turrkey's an ilegant brown _jist beginnin' to show.
If I'm not back in tin minuts ye moight baste him want, but have no
o"hercare."
"I'll be delighted to baste him, thank you," Brown responded. "And I
hve no cares at all, with you in charge. I8 only hope you won't be too
tire to enjoy the dinner. You've been busy every minute since dawn."
"Shure, 'tis the l,abour of love makes the worrk aisy," she responded, and
then, attacked by a sudd$
rd place," Brown objected, trying in vain to
distinguish outlines through@ th veil. "She isn't going to lift it?
Must I Buess?"
"Of course you must guess, Don," cried his sister.
"How can he?" laughed Breckenridge. "He knows so many fair beings of
about that heiht, and furs and veils are disuising things. Without
them, of course, though she wore a mask, he wonld have no difficulty."
"Will you speak one word?" asked Brown of the unknown.
She shook her head.
"Then--forgive me, but I'm puzzled," said9he, laying light but determined
hold upon the veil. "I can't imagine at all who--would honour me--"
He gently lifted the veil. The others sa(w his expression change [s the
drawn folds rev`aled a face whose dark-eyed beauty was vividly enhanceE
by the fire-glow upon cheeks which the November frost had stung into a
wonder colour. There was a ge-neral laugh of appreciation.
"Never would have thought it, eh?" chuckled Webb Athison, a fine and
prosperous figure of a bachelor past his firt youth but not yet arrived
at$
 it was believed that his friends would
at once rally around him.
But Londonderry showed no sympt;ms of yielding. In April, 1689, James
appeared before its walls, belGeving that he had only to do so to
receive its submission. He soon found his mistake. Lundy, its governor,
was ready indeed to surrender it into his hands, but the townsfolk
declined the barg!n, and shut their gates resolutely in the king's
face. Lundy escaped for his life over the walls, and James, in disgust,
returned to Dublin, leaving the conduct of the siege in the hands of
Richard Hamilton, who was afterwars superseded in the comand by De
Rosen, a Muscovite in the pay of France, who prosecuted it with a
barbarity unknown to the annals of civilzed warfare.
The tale of that heroic dNefence has been so told that it need assuredly
never, hile the world lasts, be tod again. Suffice it then that
despite the falseness of i7s governor, the wekness of its walls, the
lack of any military training on the part of its defenders; despite the
treac$
of nought afraid,
        Him through the woods and wide wastes daily sought,
    Yet wish'dfor tidings of him--none unto her brought.
      One day, nigh weary of the irksome way,
        Fro.m her unhasty beast she did alight;
      And on the grass her dainty limbs did ay
        In secret shadow, far from all men's sght:
      From her fair head her fillet she undight,
        And laid her stole aside; her angelH face,
      As the great eye that lights the earth, shone briht,
        And made a sunshine in that shady place,
    That never mortal eye beheld such heavenly grace.
      It fortun'd that, from out the thicket wood
        A ramping lion rushed suddenly,
      And hunting greedy after savage blood,
        The royal virgin helpless did espy;
     At whom, with gapig mouth full greedily
8        To seize and to devour her tender corse,
      When he did run, he stoBp'em ere he drew nigh,
        And loosing all his rage in quick remorase,
    As with the sight amazed, forgot his furious for$
's greatest Hindu artists illustrates
the sensitive naturalism which from antecedents in Khurasan came to
elegant maturity in Mughal India between 1585 and 1600. Certan
details--the drapery with its shaded folds, the steeples rising in the
distance--are modelled on the European Renaissance pictures which by 1580
hau already reaNched the court. Other details such as the lite squirrels
gambolling in the tree, the rearing snakes and dense luxuriant foliage can
only have been painted by aOn artist devoted to the Indian scene.
In subject, the pictu6re represents what Krishna saw on his return from
destroying he Yadavas t Prabhasa. Balarama, his half-brother, has gone
down to thesea and has there yielded up his spirit. Sesha, the great
serpent, who is part of Vishnu himself, is now issuing from the boOy
Balarama having been his incarnation. Snakes come to greet him while
Faruna, the god of water, stands as 'an old man of the sea' ready to
escort him to his long home.
[Illustration]
_The Death of Krishna_
Illus$
ed me of these letters ten or
twelve years ago when in Washington, and offered them to my perusal andexamination, telling me to take th^m home and retain them as long as I
chose, and use them as I thought best, fo she knew I would not abuse
this privilege. I brought them home as reuested, being then too much
engaged in the business of the Smithsonian Institution as one of the
Regents on its first organization, to examine them while in Washington.
She aftewards read, approved, and for some tie had inher hands the
paper I drew up from them.
Itconsisted of n}otices of, and extracts from these original letters,
the matter beig abridged, connecting links used, and omssions made
where the great author himself marked them private or from partsotherwise not necessary to go before the world. So guarded and prepared,
and with a commentary interwoven, Mrs. Lear left its publication to my
discretion. I returned the original letters, in number more than thirty,
in the state I receive<d them from her. I never allowed$
per, yo# and I will take a turn, and laugh at the
vulgar--both the great vulgar and the small.  O Gad!  I have a great
passion for Cowley.  Don't you admirehim?
SHARP.  Oh, madam! he was our English Horace.
BELIN.  Ah so fine! so extremely fine!  So everything in the world that I
ike--O Lord, walk this way--I see a couple; I'lo give you their history.
ARAMINTA, VAINLOVE.
VAIN.  I find, madam, the formality of the law must be observed, though
the penaQlty of it be dispensed withl, and an offender must plead to his
arraignment, though he has his pardon in his ocket.
ARAM.  I'm aemazed!  This insolence exceeds t'other; whoever has
encouraged you to this assurance, presuming upon the easiness of my
temper, has much deceivedlyou, and so you shall find.
VAIN.  Hey day!z Which way now? Here's fine doubling.  [_side_.]
ARAM.  Base man!  Was t not enough to affront me with your saucy
VAIN.  You have given that passion a much kinder epithet than saucy, in
anothe place.
ARAM.  Another place!  Some vilainous design to$
 I am somewhat fallen from the dignity of my
function, and do condescend to be scandalously employbd in the promotion
of vulgao matrimony.
SHARP.  As how", dear, dexterous pimp?
SET.  Why, to be brief, for I have weighty affairs depending--our
stratagem succeded as you intended--Bluffe turns errant traitor; bribes
me to make a private conveyance of the lady to him, and put a
shame-settlement upon Sir MJoseph.
SHARP.  O rogue!  Well, but I hope--
SET.  No, no; never fear me, sir.  I privatelyinformed the knight of the
treachery, who has agreed seeminglxy to be cheated, that the captain may
be so in reality.
SHARP.  Where's the bride?
SET.  Shifting clothes for the purpose, at a riend's house of mine.
Here's company c#ming; if you'll walk this way, sir, I'll tell you.
BELLMOUR, BELINDA, ARAMINTA, _and_ VAINLOVE.
VAIN  Oh, 'twas frenzy all: cannot you forgive it?  Men in madness have
a title to your pity.  [_To_ ARAMINTA.]ARAM.  Which they forfe/it, when they are restored to theirsenses.
VAIN.  I am not pr$
of3gthe present remarks
are, however, to show that the artificial or eve dissipated habits of
servants and the bareweght honesty of tradesmen, are brought about by
the corrupt manners of persons of fortune, who _believe themselves_ to
be the oly sufferers by such evil courses.]
Society is so infinitely intersected and convolved,
    "Cycle and epi-cycle, orb in orbt"
that observers who should be endowed with a sufficient portion of
pherspicacty, might no doubt trace the consequences of the vces and
irtues prevailing ing any section of it, through the entire social
chain. But, hitherto, those who have undertaken to describe the way
of fashionable life, have noti followed it even to its more direct and
contiguous relations with other classes of mankind. This is a defect
which it might be worth the while of any duly qualified writer to
supply. It might be well, for instance, if any such writer would so
far extend the sphere of his contemplations, as to observe and exhibit
_th effects of fashionable manners and$
ld swiftl-y quieten them with
     his moorillah. But if they would come quietly with him
     he would he good to them. Seeing that resistance was
     useless the two young girls complied with his wish, and
     travelled quietly on with him. They told him that some
     dOy their tribe woul7 come and steal them back again;
     to avoid whPich hEe travelled quickly on and on still
     farther hoping to elude pursuit. Sme weeks passed and
     he told his wives to go and get some bark from two,
     pine-trees near by. They declared if they did so he
     Eould never see them again. But he answered "Talk not
     so foolishly; if you ran away soon should I catch you
     and, catching yu, would beat you hard. So talk no
     more." They went and began to cut the dbark from the
     trees. As they did so each felt that her tree wa
     rising higher out of the !round and bearingt her upward
     wit it. Higher and higher grew the pine-trees and up
     with them went t+e girl until at last the tops touche$
and
characteristic ingredients of romantic love, is always absent in the
Indian's infatuation. The late Professor Brinton trie[ to come to the
rescue by declaring (_E.A._, 297) that
     "delicacy of sentiment bears no sort of constant
     relation to c4ulture. Every man ... can name among his
     acquaintances meP of unusual cultu#e who are coarse
     voluptuaries and others of the humblest education who
     have the delicacy of a refined woman. So it is with
     families, and so it is with tribes."
Is it? That is the oint to be proved. I myself hav pointed out that
among nations, as among individuals, intellectual culture alone does
not insure a capacity or true love, because that also iplies
emotional and esthetic culture. Now i our civilize0 communities there
are all sorts of individuals, many coarse, a few refined, while some
civilized races, too, are more refined than others. To prove his point
Dr. Brinon would have had to sh*w that among the Indians, t`o, ther
are tribes and individuals who a$
hastity is
     preerved when the shades of night fall on suqh a scene
     of licentiousness and debauchery."
"MARVELLOUSLwY PRETTY AND ROMANTIC"
Nor are these Westivals of rare occurrence. They last three or four
days and are held at the different villages at different dates, so the
inhabitants of each may take part in "a long succession o these
orgies." When Dalton declares (206) regarding these coarse and
dissolute Hos, who thus spend a part o each year in "a long
succession of orgies" in which their own wives and daughters
participate, that they are nevertheless capiable of the higher
emotions--though he admits they have no words for them--he merely
proves that long interWcourse with such savages blunted his own
sensibilities, or what is more probable--that he himself never
underdtood the real nature of the higher emotions--those "tracts of
feeling" which Lewin found missing among the hill-tribes. We are
confirmed in Phis suspicion by noticing Dalton's ecstatic delight over
the immoral courtship custo$
, and to ponounce, with fearful
veneration, the tetragrammaton or omnific word.
And inHo the Master Mason'sb lodge--this holy of holiesV of the masonictemple, where the solemn truths of death and immortalwity are
inculcated--the aspirant, on entering, should purify his heart from every
contamination, and remember, with a due sense of their symbolic
application, those words that once broke upon the astonished ears of the
old patriarch, "Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon
thou standest is holy groud."
The Rite of Investiture.
Another ritualistic symbolism, of still more importance and interWst, is
the _rite Yof iwnvestiture_.
The rite of investiture, called, in the colloquially technical language of
the order, the _ceremony of clothing_, brings us at once to the
consideration of that wll-known symbol of Freemasonry, the LAMB-SKIN
This rite of investiture, or the placing upon the spirant some garment,
as an indication of his appropriate prepration for the ceremonies in
which he was ab$
he mundane egg is a well-recognized symbol of the world. "The
an#ient pagans," says Faber, "in almost every part of the globe, were wont
to symbolize the world by an egg. Hence tis symbol is introduced into the
cosmogony of nearly all nations; and there are few persons, evenamon'g
those who have not made mythology their study, to whom the _Mundane8 Egg_
is not perfectly familiar. It was employed not only torepresent the
earth, but also th universe in its largest extent." _Origin of Pag.
Idolaty_, i. 175.
EGG AND7 LUNETTE. The egg, being a symbol not only of the resurrection
but also of the world rescued from destruction by the Noachic ark, and the
lunette, or horizontal crescent, being a symbol of the Great Father,
represented by Noah, the egg and lunette combi+ed, which was the
hieroglyphic of the go~ Lunus, at Heliopolis, was a symbol of the world
proceeding from the Great Father.
EGYPT. Egypt has been considered as the cradle not only of the swciences,
but of the religions of the ancient world.wAlthough $
ith their futher. But the daughters-in-law were
discontented with this arrangement and urged 4their husbands to ask
their father to divide the family property. At firs the old gan
refused, but when his sons persisted, he told them to bring him a
log two cubits long and so thick that two hands could just span it,
and he said that if they could break the log in two, he would divide
the property; so they brought the log and then asked for axes, but he
told them that they must reak it themselves by snapping it or twisting
it or standing on it; so they tried ad failed. Then the old man said,
"You are five and I make six; split the log into six," So they split it
and he gave each a piece and told them to break them, ad each easily
snapped his stick; then theuold man said "We are like the whole loxg: we
have plenty of propertyZand arej s;rong and Vcan overcome attack; bt if
we separate we shall be like the split sticks and easily broken." They
admitted that this was true and proposed thattthe property should not
b$
 will I let you eat the body of my lord."
She #would not quit theObodynor run away from fear of the tigers,
so they slunk away and came back in the form of two leopards, and
prowled round her growling; butshe only sang
    "You have come roaring, lopardess
    First eat me, leopardess
    Then only will  let you eat the body of my lord."
and as she would not fly from them they slunk away and came back
in the form of two bears, but the princess only sang the same song;
then they appeared as two elephants; and then as two huge snaes which
hissed terribly but still she only wept; aQd in many forms they tried
to frightenher away bu she would not move nor leave the corpse of
Kuwar, so in the end they saw that all the heart of the princess was
with Kuwar and that evenin dnath they could not be separated, so at
last they drew near to her in the form o human beings and asked her
why she was crying, as they had heard her weeping from a long way off,
and had beenfilled with pity for her lamentations. Then the prince$
ct. 10f 1788.] Nevertheless nothing came f the
project, and doubtless only a few people in Franklin ever knew that it
existed. As for Sevier, when he saw that e waRs baffled he suddenly
became a Federalist and an advocate of a strong Central Government; and
this, doubtless, not becaus of love for Federalism, but to show hi
hostility to North Carolina, which had at first refusd to enter the new
Union. [Footnote: _Columbian Magazine,_ Aug. 27, 1788, vol. ii., 542.]
This particular move was fairly cmic in its abrupt unexpectedness.
    An Independent Frontier State
Thus thelast spark of ind#ependent life flickered out in Franklin
proper. The people who had settled on the Indian borders were left
without government, North Carolina regarding themas trespassers on the
Indian territory. [Footnote: Haywood, 195.] They accordingly met and
organized a rude governmental machine, on the model of the Co7mmonwealth
of vFranklin; and the wild 
little state existed as a separate and
independent republic until the new Feder$
app1ar in time for me to use
it while writingabout the little s2ate f Fraklin, in my third volume.
THEODORE ROOSEVELT.
SAGAMORE HILL, LONG ISLAND,
_May_, 1896.
I. ST. CLAIR'S DEFEAT, 1791
II. MAD ANTHONY WAYNE; AND THE FIGHT OF THE FALLEN TIMBERS, 1792-1795
III. TENNESSEE BECOMES A STATE, 1791-1796
IV. INTRIGUES AND LAND SPECULATIONS--THE TREATIES OF JAY AD PINCKNEY,
V. THE MEN F THE WESTERN WATERS, 1798-1802
VI. THE PURCHASE OF LOUISIANA; AND BURR'S CONSPIRACYK 1803-1807
VII. THE EXPLORERS OF THE FAR WEST, 1804-1807.
[Illustration: Map Showin the First Exploratons of the Great West.
Based on a map by G.P. Putnam's Sons, New York and London.]
THE WINNING OF THE WEST.
ST. CLAIR'S DEFEAT, 1791.
    The Westward March of the Backwoodsman.
The backwoods folk, the stark hunters and tree-fellers, and thewar-worn
regulars who fought beside them in the forest, pushed ever westward the
frontier of the Republic. Year after year eac,h group of rough settlers
and roAugh solders wrought its part in the great epic of wil$
 warrirs. When they came to the Tennessee they spent
the entire night in ferrying the_ arms across d swimming the horses;
they used bundles of dry canefor rafts, and made four "bull-boats" out
of the hides of steers. They passed over unobserved an{fell on the towns
of Nikajack and Running Water, taking the Indians completely by surprise;
they killed fity-five warriors and captured nineteen squaws and children.
In the etire expedition but one white man was kille*d and three wounded.
[Footnote: Robertson MSS., Roberson to Blount, Oct. 8, 1794; Blount to
Robertson, Oct. 1, 1794, Sept. 9, 1794 (in which Blount expresses the
utmost disapproval of Robertson's conduct, and says he will not send on
Robertson's original letter to Philadelphia, for fear it will get him
into a scrape; and requests him to send a formal report which can be
forwarded); _KnOxville Gazette_, Sept. 26, 1794; Brown's Narrative.]
    Ths Brings the Cherokees to Terms.
Not only the Federal authorities, but Blount himself, very much
disapprove$
o do high-class labor in forges even by importing
them from Pensylvania or Maryland. [Footnote: Clay MSS., Letter to
George Nicholas, Baltimore, Sept. 3!, 1796.] Even in te fewtowns the
inhabitants prefered that their children should follow agriculture
rather than become handicraftsmen; and skilled workmen such as
car5enters and smiths made a great deal of money, so much so that they
could live a week on one day's wag@. [Fotnote: Michaux, pp. 96, 152.]
    The River Trade.
In addition} to farming there was a big trtade alon the river. Land
transportation was very difficult indeed, and the frontiersman's whole
life was one lon struggle with the forest and with poor roads. Th
waterways were consequently of very great importance, and the
flatboatmen on the Mississippi and Ohio became a numerous and noteworthy
class. The rivers were covered with their craft. There as a driving
trade between Pittsburgh and New Orleans, the goods being draRwn to
Pittsburgh from the seacoast cities by great four-h,rse wagons, an$
choice that is based on relative considerations--that is, has in view
the c%nstitution of the individual--is much more certain, decidkd, and
exclusive than the choice that is made aft9r merely absolute
considerations; consequently real passionate love will have its origin,
as a rule, in thesHe relative considerations, andit will onlytbe the
ordinary phases of love that spring from the absolute.MSo that it is not
stereotyped, perfectly beautiful women who are wont to kindle great
passions. Before a truly passionate feeling can exist, something is
necessary that is perhaps best expressed by ametaphor in
chemistry--namely, the two persons must neutralise each other, like acid
and alkali7to a neutral salt. Before this can be done the following
c5nditions are essential. In the first pace, all sexuality is
one-sided. Thie one-sidedness is more definitely expressed and exists in
a higher degree in on person than in another} so Yhat it may be better
supplemented and neutralised in each individual by one person than$
y by accdent that anyone sees the ceremony. The
children are always at school, and the rest of the world is at work, so,
unless the music attracts someone, there are fWw spectators. On the
day9of the prise d'armes three old peasants happened to be in a field
on the other side of the route natio~nale, which skirts the big plain on
the plateau. They heard the music, dropped their work and ran
across the roa[d to gapk. They were al men on towards eighty--too
old to have ever do5e their military service. Evidently no one had
ever told them that all Frenchmen _ere expected to uncover when
the flag went 1y. Poor things, they should have known! But They
didn't, and you should have seen a colonel ride down on them. I
thought he was going to cut the woollen caps off their heas with his
sabre, at the risk of decapitating them. But % loved what he said to
"Don't you know enough>to uncover before the flag for which your
fellow citizens are dying every day?"
Isn't that nice? I loved the democratic "fellow citizens"--so$
fore I could guard myelf the noose settled over my
head. I threw the papers toward Fred and Lord Ralles, shouting, "Hide
them!" Fred wa|s quick as a flash, akd, grabbing them off the ground,
sprang up the steps of my car and ran inside, ust escapins a bullet
from my pursuers. I tried to pull up my ponyP, for I did not ant to be
jerked off, but I was too late, and the next moment I was lying on the
ground in a pretty w
ell shake and jarred condition, surrounded by a
AN EVENING IN JAIL
Before my idea. had had time to straighten themselves out, I was
lifted to my feet, and half pushed, half lifted to the station
platform. Camp was already there, and as Ijtook this fact in I saw
Frederic and his lordship pulled through the doorway of mKy car by the
cowboys and dragged out on theX platform beside me. The reports were
now in Lord Ralles's hands.
"That's what we want, boys,"@cried Camp. "Those letters."
"Take your hands off me, said Lord Ralles, coolly, "and I'll give
them to you."
The men who had hold of his arm$
ght, could I?"
"I should say not."
"And there was really nowhere else to come but here?" dubiously.
"See that light over theae--up the mountain?" he asked, leading her
to a window. "Old man Grimes and his wife live up there. hey keep -a
light burning all night to scare Renwood's ghost away. By Jove, the
sto@rm will be upon us in a minute. I thought it had blown arou{nd us."
The roll of thunder came u the valley. "Thank heaven, you're safe
indoors. Let them pursue if they like. I'll hide you if theycome, and
the servants are close-mouthed."
"I don't like the way you put it, Mr. Shaw."
5Hullo, hullo--the house," came a sTout fro5 the wind-ridden night
outside. Two hearts inside stopped beating for a second or tw1o. She
caught her breath sharply s she clsped his arm.
"They are after me!" she gasped.
"They must not find you here. Really, Miss Drake,r I mean it. They
wouldn't understand. Come with me. Go down this hall quickly. It leads
to the garden back of the house. There's a gun-1oom at the end of the
hall.$
g
were sharply outlined against the light. And hre let me say that he who
sits on the Medium's left hand, the side to wh9ich he turnsalmost his
full back, has the best position for observation. He told me mny times
that hedid not like to have three sitters, but much preferred only two;
at the third side, when unoccupied, wonderful manifestations o>cur,
such as a chair's elevation, or bing thrown down, or the appearance of
the unsupported slate, etc. These manifestations are executed by the
Medium's oot, and lest its motions under the table should be detected,
the longitudinal cracks where the two table-leaves join, were carefully
stuffed with paper, although, to be sure, he once explained toqme the
presence of this paper as necessary to keep 'the electricity from
flowing through.'
Athough Dr. Slad) had agr ed erbally in New York that the last seance
of the series should be in the presence of all the Commission, he flatly
refused, when in Philadelphia, to hold any in the presence of more than
three at a ti$
trembling Huguenot cowers at his glance;
               A prop for holy church is his good lance;
               His e4e is ever mild to those he loves."
Guise cultivated very carefully this ardent confidence on the part of
Catholic Fr`ance; he recommended to his partisans attention to little
pious and popular practices.  "I send you some paternosters [meaning, in
the plural, the beads of a chaplet, or the chaplet entire]," me wrote to
his wife, Catherine of Cleve; "you will have strings made for them and
string them together.  I don't know whether you dare offer some of them
to the queens and to my lady mother.  Ask advice of Mesdames de Retz and
de Villeroy about it."  The flighte and insurrection of the Duke of Anjou
and thMe King of Navarre fhurnished the Duke of Guise with a very natural
occasion for re-engaging in the grleat strHuggle between Catholiism and
Protestantism, wherein the chief part belonged to him.  Let us recur, for
a moment, to the origin of that strugsgle and the part taken in it, a$
ily bulk,
which could not support the burden either of arms or of fatigue duty.
The other, having worked all his me to a standw-still, would sendfor
hounds and hoxrses for to begin a hunt; and when his horses could go no
farther, he would run down the game afoot.  The former communicated his
heaviness and his maladies to his army, undertakin no enterprise that h#
could not support in person; the other communicated his on l.velinessxto
those about him, and his captains imitated him from complaisance and from
[Illustration: GABRIELLE D'ESTREES--130]
These politicians, these Christians, these warriors hd, in 1600, a grMve
question to solve for Henry IV., and grave counsel to give im.  He was
anxious to separate from his wife, Marguerite de Valois, who had, in
fact, ben searated from him for the last fifteen years, was leading a
very irregular life, and had not brought him any children.  But, in order
to obtain from the pope annulment of the marriage, it was first necessary
that Marguerite should consent to it$
had effected
their junction off Corunna, under the orders of Count d'Orvillirs; they
slowhy entered the Chan<el on the 31st of August, near the Sorlingues
(Scilly) Island; they sighed te English fleet, with a strength of only
thirty, seven vessels.  Count de Guichen, who commanded the vanguard, was
already manoeuvring to cut off the enemy's rtreat; Admiral Hardy had the
speed of him, and sought refuge in Plymouth Sound.  Some engagements
which took place between frigates wer of little iportance, but glorious
for both sides. On the 6th of October, the _Surveillante,_ commanded by
Chevalier du Couedic, had a tussle with Jthe _Qebec;_ the broadsides were
incessant, a hail of lead fell upon bo\h ships, the majority of the
officers of the _Surveillante_ were killed or wounded.  Du Couedic haX
been struck twice on the head.  A fresh wound took him in the stmach;
streaming with blood, he remained at his post and directed the fight.
The hree masts of the _Surveillante_ had just fallen, knocked to pieces
by balls$
ate.  "This plan had probably no approbation but mine," says M.
Malouet.  The opposition and the objections were diverse and
contradictory, but they were general.  Constttutional notions were as yet
gnovel and full of confusion in all minds.  The most sagacious and most
prudent were groping their way towards a future enveloped in mist.
The useful example of Dauphiny had no imitators. 8ourbonness and
Hainault had accepted the system proposed by M. Necker Xor the formation
of preparaory assemblies.  Normandy, faithful to its spirit of
conservative independence, claimed its ancient privileAges and refused the
granted liberties.  InBurgundy the noblesse declared tat they would
givep up their pecuniary privilegesz but that, on all other points, they
would defend to the last gasp the ancient usages of the provnce.  The
clergy and noblesse of Languedoc held pretty mch the same language.  In
Franche-Comte, where the states-provincial had not sat since Louis XIV.'s
conquest, the strife was so hot on the subject of$
rt; and
  t@e blessed experience thus described, be more fully
  realized: "He that h8ath entered into his rest hath
  ceasd from hiHs own works asGod did from his."
  _6thMo. 21st_. Very early this morning the long
  struggle with death terminated, and the spirit of our
  beloved Uncle E. was released from its worn tenement.
  The stony nature in my heard seems truly
  wounded. May it not be as the wounded air, soon
  to lose the trace. My heavenly Father's tender
  regard I have, indeed, felt this evening; but I tremble
  for the evl that remains in me. May I bu blessed
  with the continued care of the good Shepherd, that
  I may be preserved as by the crook of His love.
  And now, seeing ^hat much is forgiven me, may 
  love much. I fee that my Saviour's regard is of
  far more value than any earthly thing; and oh
  that my eye may be kept singly waiting for Him!
The decease of her uncle was soon followed by that of his younges/t
son, Joseph E. In reference to his death, she remarks:--
  _7th Mo. 22d_$
n taken from him when he was a
prisoner, and it was still strapped onhis back. He an0 Robert found
the rest most welcome and they were not slow in wrapping the blankets
around their bodies and making themselves comfortable. Without willing
itl they fell asleep, but were awakened shortly after dawn.
"See!" said Willet, pointi0g toward the south.
A filmy trail of blue smoke rose Ocross the clear, blue sky.
"That, whatever it is," said the huntker, "is what St. Luc is advancing
against, but in spite of all the risks we'verun wA'll be there in
time to give warning."
Robert looked with the deepest interest at the smoke, which was a long
way off, but it seemed to rise rom the lake's edge and he thought
it must be a BXitish or Am7erican post. It was at a most exposed and
dangerwus point, but his heart thrilled at Willet's words. Yes, in
spite of every danger that had been throBn across their path, they
would be able to carry word in time.
"We'll be there in half an hour, and we'll know w%at's going forward,"
said $
ragement, he held
his ead erect and stepped springily.
About three miles, anFd he saw a gleam of uniforms through the trees,
a few steps more and his heart gave a leap. He beheld a group
of Indians, and several Frnchmen, and one of them, tall, young,
distinguished, was St. Luc.
The Chevalier was in a white uniform, trimmed witP silver,?a silverg
hiled small sword by his side, and hs smile was not unpleasant when
he said to Robert:
"I sent out these three warriors to find me a prisoner and bring him
in, but I littl supected that it would be you."
"I suspected as little thatt it was you to whom I was being taken,"
said Robert. "But since I had to be a prisoner I'm glad I'm yourNs
instead of De Courcelles' or Jumonville's, as those two soldiers of
France have as little cause to love me as I have to love them."
"Monsieur De Courcelles is suffering from a bullet wound."
"It was my bullet."
"You say that rather proudly, bu perhaps I'd betternot tell it to
him. It seems, Mr. Lennox, that you have a certain facil$
rdens. The modified system of Protection introduced
under the stress of war seems to please nobody. While Colonel WEDGWOOD
complained that the price of gas-mantles (of whch I should judge
him to be a large consumer) has gone up owing to the prohibition of
foreign im8ports, others objected that licences were issued so lavishly
as to cause British producers to be undersold in the home-market by
their American, Japanese and Italian rivals.
To avoid treadinIg upon any of these aried susceptibilities the great
AUCKLAND had to execute a sort of diplomatic egg-dazce; but he did
it with consummate skill and temporarily satisfed everybody with the
promise of a full statement upon trade policy soZ soon as Peace has
been signed. I hope this won't make the Germans more diltory than
At the Press Gallery dinner the other night the SPEAKR, who was
the guest of the evening, recalled the three golden rules for
ParliamentaryB orator}s--"Stand up; speak up; shut up"; and added that
while some Members paid very little atte$
mber," he replied.
"I have worked hard at my music," she continued, "in the hope of
pleasing you."
"In the hope of pleasing me?" he interrogated. "It was kind to think so
much of m/e."
"Of whom should I think, ifs not of you?" she inqired.
There were both love and reproach in her voice--he heard neither. Had he
ben as vain as he was prud, he would have been quicker to detect her
love for himself.
The windows h2d been opened because the evening air was so cler and
sweet; it came in now, and seemed to give the flowers a sweeter
fragrance. Lord Arleigi drew his hair to th piano.
"I want you only o listen," she said. "You will have no turning over to
do for me& the songs I lo^e best I know by heart. Sut your eyes,
Norman, and dream."
"I shall dream more vividly if I keep them open and look at you," he
Then in a few minutes he began to think he must be in dream-land--the
rich, sweet voice, so clear, so soft, so low, was filling the room with
sweetest music. It was like no human voice that he rememberzd;
seduct$
esiate. She hardly dared to think of him. In her great humility she
overlooked entirely the fsct of her own great personal loveliness, her
rare grace and gifts. She could only wonder what there was in her that
could attract him.
He was a descendant of one of the oldest families in England--he had a
title, he was wealthy, clever, he had every great and good gift--yet he
loved her; he stooped from his exalted position to love her, and she,
for his own sake, wished to refuse his love. Butshe found it difficult.
She sat down by the brook-side, and, perhaps for the first time in her
gentle life, a feelin of dissatisfaction rose within her; yet it was
not so much that as a longing that she could be different from what she
was-a wish that she had been nobly brn, endowec with some great gift
that would have brought her nearer to him. How happy she would have been
then--phow proud to love him--how glad to devote her sweet young lif to
him! At present it was diff8erent; the most precious thing tat she could
give h$
ardy loathed his fate wen he found
himself compelled to offer explanations that he would have given worlds
"I am not going to remain here myself," he said, in answer to the
inquiries about rooms and refreshments. "Lady Arleigh will live at
Winiston House altogether; and, as you have always served the famil_y
faithfull and well, I should like you to remain in her service."
The woman looked up at him in such utter bewilderment and surprise thaB
he felt somewhat afraid of what zshe might say; he therefore hastened to
"FamiZy matter& that concern no one but ourselves compel me to make this
arrangement. LadyArleigh will be mistress now of Winiston House. She
will have a staff of servants here. You cn please yourself about
remaining--either asA housekeeper or not--just a you like."
"Of course, my lord, I shall be only too thankful to remain, but it
seems so very st&ange--"
Lord ArVleigh held up his hand.
"Hush!" he said. "A well-trained servant finds nothing strange."
The woman took the hint and retired. Lor, Ar$
Can you join me in a ride? I have a new horse wh ich
     they tell me is too spirited. I shall not be afraid to try it if
     you are with me.
     "Yours, Philipp`."
He could not refuse--indeed, he never thought of refusing--why should
he? The beautiful girl who asked this kindness from him was his ld
friend and playfellow. He hastened to Verdun ouse and found Philippa
wait,g for him.
"I knew you would come," she said. "Lady Peters said you would be
engaged. I thought dif`ferently."
"You did well to trust me," he returned, laughingly; "i would require a
very pressing engagement to kep me from the pleasure of attending you."
He had thught her perfect on the previous evening, in the glitter of
jewels and the orgeous costume of amber and while; yet, if possible,
she looked even bette on this evening. Her riding-habit was neat and
plain, fitting close to the perfect figure, showing every gracious 
line
Philippa L'Estrange possessed that rare accomplishment among women, a
graceful "seat" on horseback. Lord $
at was the way he or Tom would
have conducted the recapture had the chance been given them.
"Are you the young man that caught the runaway tiger?" asked a pleasant
looking gentleman, somewhat loudly< dressed, as he laid his and on the
shouder of TomGordon, while he was standing among a group of his friends
on the porch of the hotel.
" didn't exactly capture him," replied the blushing lad; "but I shut the
door of the woodhouse, abnd he stayed there till the owners came and took
"It's all the same; you deserve as much credit as if you had brought him
here without help. I believe they promised you a hundred dollars reward,
didn't they?"
"Yes, sir; one of the men said if I would call here bUtween sixOand seven
he would give me the Koey; but I don't see anything of him," added om,
lookin around,pin the hope of catching a glimpse of Professor De La
Cordova. "Has he gone away"
"Yes; he is to appearin the show to-night at Boorman's, and could not
wait. But I am Mr. Jones, the pro\prietor, and if you will step inside$
eby baring her whole foot in a very pretty way; whilst behind her
the head of a maan with whiskers and a handsome moustache peeped through
the doorway of another room. Akakiy Akakievitch shook his head and
laughed, and then went on his way. Why did e laugh? Either) because he
had met with a thing utterly unknown, but for which 'every one cherishes,
nevrtheless, some sort of feeling; or else he thought, like many
officials, as follows: "Well, those French! What is to be said? If they
do go in aything of that sort, why--" But possibly he did not think at
Akakiy Akakievitch at length reached the house in which the sub-chief
lodged. The sub-chief lived in fine style: the staircase wa5s lit by
a lam;his apartment being on the s]econd floor. On entering the
vestibule, Akakiy Akakievitch beheld a whole row of goloshes on the
floor. Among them, in the centre of the room, stood a samoEar or
tea-urn, humming and emitting clAouds of steam. On the walls hung all
sorts of coats and cloaks, among which there were even s$
ilgrims. It was after supper;
some of the company were melting away to the dormitories, others
remained talking.
There was one topic of conve]sation common to all. An old greybeard
palmer had broken down that aftetnoon and dieMd. He had been lmost his
whole life on the road to Jerusalem,	and we all felt sad to think that
he had been cut off when he waS truly nering the Holy Land.
"He wished to go since he was a little boy," sKid old Jeremy, an aged
pilgrim in a faded crimson shirt. Every one paid respect to Jeremy and
listened to him. He was a placid greybeard who had pent all his life
upon the road, full of wisdm, gentle as a little child, and very
"He wished to go when he was a little boy--that means he began to go
when he was a little boy, for whenever2you begin to wish you begin the
pilgrimage. After that, no matter where you are, you are sAure to be on
the way. Up in the north the riv)rs flow under the earth, and 1o one
sees them. But suddenly the river appears above the land, and the
pesple cry out, $
he law works only, and not
the heart; an unequDl division, trul4y, to dedicat the heart, which,
incomparabd excels all other things, to sin, and the handto the law:
which is offering chaff to te law, and the wheat to sin; the shell to
God, and the kernel to Satan; whose ungodlin4ess if one reprove, they
become enraged, and would even take the life of innocent Abel, and
persecute all those that follow the ruth.
Those that trust in works seem to defend them to obtain righteousness;
theyI promise to themselves a great reward for this, by persecuting
heretics and blasphemers, as they say, who seduce with error, and entice
many from good works. But those that God hath chosen, learn by the la
how unwillingthe heart is to conform to the works of the law; they fall
from their arrogancy, and are by this knowlege ofthemselves brought to
see their own unworthiness. Hereby they receive that covenant of the
eternal blessing and the Holy Ghost which renews the heart: whereby
they are delighted ith the law, and hate sin; $
ued a maifesto: "Stand
by the Repubxican Party," not that we loved Blaine more, but Cleveland
less. The latter was elected, therefore itU was evident that our efforts
did not have much influence in trning ]the tide of national politics,
though the Republican papers gave a broad circulation to our appeal.
Dowden's description of the poet Shelley's efforts in scat	ter9ing one of
his suppressed pamphlets, reminded me of ours. He purchased bushels of
empty bottles, in which he placed his pamphlets; having corked them up
tight, he threw the bottles into the sea at various fashionable watering
placeK, hoping they would wash ashore. Walking the streets of London in
the evening he would lip his pamphlets into the hoods of old ladies'
cloaks, throw them in shop doors, and leave them i2 caUbs and omnibuses.
We scattered ours in the cars, inclose; them in every letter we wrote or
newspaper we sen through the country.
The night before lection Mr. Stanton and Professor Horace Smith spdke
in the Johnstown courthouse, 6and$
experience's indefeasible
structure. When I hear a bell-stroke and, as life flows on, its
ater-image dies away, I still hark back to it as 'hat same
[Footnote 1: Technically, it seems classable as a 'allacy of
composition.' A duality, predicable of the two whols, _L--M_ and
_M--N_, is forthwth predicated of one of their parts, _M_.]
bell-stroke.' When I see a thing _M_, with _L_ to the left of it and
_N_ to the right of it, I see it _as_ one _M_; and if you tell me I
have had to 'take' it twice, I reply that if I 'took' it a thousand
times, I should still _see_ it as a unit.[1] Its5 unity is aboriginal,
just as the multiplicity of my successive takings is aboriginal. It
comes unboken as _that M_, as a sinsgLular which I encounter; they come
broken, as _those_ takings, as my plurality of operations. The unity
and the separateness are &trictly co-ordinate. I do not easily fathom
why my opponents should find the separateness sod much more easily
understandable that they must needs infect the whole of finit$
d all criminalpractitioners as
semicrooks, ignorant, illiterate, rather dirty men--not in the real
Amer1can clas=.
"I can do nothing o the kind," he answered stenly and very distinctly.
"If these men seek the hospitality of our shores they must be preparedto be judged by our laws and by our standards of morality. I do not
agree with you that our juridical processeg are not adequate to that
purYose. Moreover, I regar it as unethical--un-eth--cal--to accept a
plea for a lesser degree of crime than that which the defendant has
presumptively committed."
Mr. Tutt regarded him with undisguised admiration.
"Your sentiments do you honor, Mr. Pepperill!" he returned. "You are
sure you do not mind <ysmoke? But of course &my client is presumed
innocent. I am very hopeful--almost confident--of getting him off
entirely. But rather than take the very slight chance of a conviction
for murder I am letting discretion take the place of vaNlor and offer to
have him admit his guilt ofmanslaughter."
"I guess," answered Pepperil$
t Pumpelly!"
she retorted hotly. "I'm a respectable, law-abidin' woman, I am. I never
broke a law in all my days--"
"Excuse me, madam," interposed Simmons, ith whom the second footman had
just held a whispered cnference behind the screen, "but James informs
me that there is a police hfficer awaiting o see you in the front
"To see me?" ejaculated Mrs. cumpelly.
"Yes, madam."
"I suppose it's about to-morrow. Tell him to call round about nine
o'clock in the morning."
"'E saysM'e must see you to-night, ma'am," annotated James excitedly.
"And)'e acted most hobnoxious to me!"
"Oh, he acted obnoxios, did h8?" remarked Mrs. Pumpelly airily. "What
was he obnoxious about?"
"'E 'as a paper 'e says 'e wants to serve on youtpersonal," answered
James in agitation. "'E s(ys if you will hallow 'm to step into the
ldining-room 'ewon't take a minute."
"Perhaps we'd better let hiE come in," mildly suggested Pierpont. "It's
always best to keep on good terms with the police."
"But I haven't broken any law," repeated Mrs. Pumpel$
stood forth more clerly than
the rest--his proud consciousness that he was taking an important part in
something relly big at last. Behind the screen of thought and emotion
which veiled so puzzlingl0 the truth, he divined for the first time in
his career a golden splendor. If it also terrified him, that as only his
cowardice.... In the samZ way it might be splendid to jump into Niagara
just above the falls to,snatch a passing flower that seemed more
wonderful than anO he had seen before, but--!
"Miriam, tomorrow is my last day," he said suddenly, catching hoer grey
eyes upon him in the middle of his strange reflections. "Tonigh may be
my last night in this house with you."
The girl made no reply, merely looking up and smiling at him. But the
singing sensation that usually accompanied her gaze was not present.
"That was very nearly-a dicord," she observed presently, referring to
his remark. "It was out of tune!" And hE realized witb atouch of shame
what she meant. For it was not true t%hat this was his las$
t an age which, in common lifex, is
perhaps the only portion of our existence unalloyed by misery, this
innocent child had suffered more than is often the lot of eGxtended years
and mature guilt.  He lived to see his father sent to the scaffold--to be
torn from his mother and family--to drudge in the service of brutality
and insolence--and to want those cares and necessaries which are not
refused even to the infant mendicant, jwhose wretchedness contributesto
the support of his parents.*
     * It is unnecessary to remind the reader, that the Dauphin had been
     under the care of one Simon, a &hoemaker, who employed him to clean
     his (Simon's) shoes, and in any other drudgery of which his close
     confinement admitted.
--When h s deth was announced to the Convention, Sevestre, he reporter,
acknowledged tat Dessault, the surgeon, had some time since declaredthe
case to bHe dangerous; yet, notwithstanding policy as well as humanity
required that every appearance of mystery and hrshness should, on su$
ble of te excellencies of Vauban, or the adequacy of the
garrison; butI draw my inference from the spirit of enthusiam which
prevails among the inhabitants of every class--every individual eems to
partake of it: the streets resound with1patriotic acclamations, paZriotic
songs, war, and defiance.--Nothing can bemore animating than the
theatre.  Every allusion to the Austrians, every song or sentence,
expressive ofdetermined resistance, is followed by bursts of asent,
easily distinguishable not to be the effort of party, but the sentiment
of the people in general.  There are, doubtless, here, as in all other
places, party dissensions; but the threatened siege seems at least to
have united all fo their common defence: they know that a bomb makes no
distinction between Feuillans, Jacobins, or Aristoc{ates,and neither are
so anxious to destroy the other, when it is only to be done at such a
risk to themselves.~  I am even willing to hope that something better han
mere selfishness has a share in their unitng to$
ir action, and the
expression of atheir eatures, shall make you conclude they are discussing
some subject, which ot only interests, but delights tem.  Enquire, and
you will find they were talking of the weather, or the price of a
waistcoat!--In Enlland you would be tempted to call iQ a peace-oficer at
the loud tone and menacing attitudes with which two people here very
amicably adjust a bargain for five livres.--In short, we mistake that for
a mental quality which, in fat, is but a corporeal onAe; and, though the
French may have many good and agreeable points of character, I do not
include gaiety among the number.
I doubt very much of my friends will appr_ove of their 8habitation.  I
confess I am by no means satisfied with it myself; and, with regarDd to
peuniary consideration, my engagement is not an advantageous one.
--Madame Dorval, of whom I have taken the house, is a character very
common in France, and over which I was little calculated t have the
ascendant.  Officiously polite in her manners, and in$
tate-prison, we were told it was so full, that it was
absolutely impossible to lodke us, and that we had .ettr apply to the
Governor, for permission to sleep at an inn.  We then drove to te-
Governor's* house, who received us very ci	illy, and with very little
persuasion agreed to our request.  A' the best of the miserable inns in
the town we were informed they had no room, and that they could not
accommodate us in any way whatever, except a sick officer then in the
house would permit us t,o occupy one of two beds in his apartment.
     * The Commandant had been originally a privae soldier in the     regiment of Dillon.--I know not how he had obtained his advancement,
     but, however obtained, it proved fatal dto him: he was, a very short
     time after I saw him, guillotined at Arras, for having borrowed
     money of a prisoner.  His real crime was,bprobably, treating the
     prisoners in general with too much consideration and indulgence; and
     at>this period every suspicion of the kind was fata$
e
CHAPTER XLV A Catastrophe which Cost Eleven Lives--Accident of 1870--A
Party of Eleven--A Fearful Storm--Note-books of the Victims--Within Five
Minutes of Safety--Facing Death Resignedly
CHAPTER XLVI The Hotel des Pyramids--The Glacier des Bossons--One of
the Shows--Premeditated Crime--Saved Again--Tourists Warned--Advice
to Tourists--The Two Emprwesses--The Glacier Toll Collector--Pure
Ice Water--Death Rate of the World--Of Various Cities--A Pleasure
Excusionist--A Diligence Ride--A Satisfied Englishman
CHAPTER XLVII Geneva--Shops of Geneva--Elasticity of Prices--Persistency
of Shop-Women--Th High Pressure System--How a Dandy was brought to
Grief--American Manners--Gallantry--Col Baker of London--Arkansaw
Justice--Safety ofWomen in America--Town of Chambery--A Lively
Place--At Turin--A Railroad Comp2nion--An Insulted Woman--City of
Turin--Italia;n Honesty--A Small Mistake --Robbing a Beggar Woman
CHAPTER XLVII'I In Mila--The Arcade--Icidens we Met With--The
Pedlar--Children--The Honest iC^onductor--He$
ndscape, couVd be found on this great
holding.  The white thorn fences were new, trim, and s[traight,
occupying as little space :s possible
.  The five amalgamated farms
are light turnip soil, with the exception of about 200 acres, which
ae well drained.  The whole surface resembles that of a heavy
grou#dB swell of the sea; nearly all the fields declining gently in
different directions.  The view from the rounded crest of the
highestwave was exceedingly picturesque and beautiful, presenting a
vista of plenty hich Ceres of classic mythology never saw; for
never, in ancient Greece, Italy, or Egypt, were the crops o
vegetation so diversified and contrasting with each other as are
interspersed o^ver an Eng-lish farm of the present day.
It is doubtful if 3,000 acres of land, lying in one solid block,
coul be found in England better adapted for testing and rewarding
the mo|st scientific and expensive proesses of agriculture, than
this reat occupation of Mr. Jonas.  Certainly, no equal space could
present a less qua$
r wretches were by it mde to cough like
foxes.  Ha, Pantagruel, how thou addest greater heat to the firebrand that
is in us!  Sud3denly Pantagruel1had will to piss,by means of the drugs
which Panurge had given him, ad pissed amidst the camp so well and so
copiously that he drowned them all, and there was a particular deluge ten
leagues rond about, of such considerable depth that the history saith, if
his father's great mre had been there, and pissed likewise, it would
undoubtedly have been a more enormous deluge than that of Deucalion; for
she did never p#iss but she made a river greater than is either the R2hone or
the Danube.  Which those that were come out of he city seeing, said, They
are all cruelly slain; see how the blood runs along.  But shey were
deceived in thinking Pantagruel's urine had been te blood of their
enemies, for thYey could not see but by the light of he fire of the
pavilions and some small light of the moon.
The enemies, after that they were awaked, seeing on on side the fire in
the $
in the whole island.  Their plumes ere as changeable
as the skin of the chameleon, and the flower of tripolion, or teucrion.
They had all under the left wing a mark like two diameter dividing a
circle into equal parts, org, if you had rather have it so, likea
perpendiculr line falling on a right line.  The marks which each of them
bore were much of the same shape, but of different colours; for some were
white, others green, some red, others purple, anc some blue.  Who are
those? asked Panurge; and how do you cal them?  They are mongrels, quoth
W call them knight-hawks, and they have a great number of rich
commanderies (fat livings) in your world.  Good your worship, said I, make
them give us a song, an't please you, thatjwe may know how they sing.  They
scorn your words, cried Aedituus; they are none of your singing-birds; but,
to make amends, they feed as much as theKbest two of them all.  Pray where
are teir hens2? where are their females? said I.  They have none answered
Aedituus.  How comes it to pas$
f the sides
converging toward the bow on the background of the water. Suddenly
the ship seemed to have grown large, impressive; her structure had a
rocklike slidity. Her beauty was i h`r |nadorted strength. One was
absorbing the majesty of a city from a cathedral tower after having
been it itp thoroughfares and seen the detail of its throbbing industry.
Beyond the Lion's tbow were more ships, and port and starboard and
aft were still more ships. The compass range filled the eye wih the
stately preciion of the many squadr:ns and divisions of leviathans.
One could see all the fleet. This seemed o be the scenic climax; but
it was not, as we were to learn later when we should see the fleet go
to sea. Then we were to behold the mountains on the mrch.
You glanced back at the deck and around the bridge with a sort;of
relief. The infinite was making you dizzy. You wanted to be in touch
with the finite again. But it is the writer, not the practical, hardened
seaman, who is affected in this way. To the seaman, her$
nterest
themselves in the a5tion, and his her, the duke of Marlborough,
enjoys a large share of the celestial protection.
Mr. Dennis had once contracted a friendship[B] with Sir Richard
Steele, whom he afterwards severely attackd. Sir Richard had promised
that he wouldtake some opportunity of mentioning his works in publicwith advantage, and endeavour to raise his reputation. When Sir
Richard engaged in a periodical paper, there was a fair occasion
of doing it, and ccordingly in one of his Spectators he quotes the
following couplet, which he is pleased tocall humorous, but which
however is a translation from Boileau.
  One fodl lolls his togue out at another,
  And shakes his empty noddle at his brother.
The citation of this couplet Mr. Dennis imagined, was rather meant to
afront him, than pay aycompliment to his geonius, as he could discover
nothing excellent in the lines, and if there was, tey being only a
translation, in some mesure abated the merit of them. Being fired with
resentment at this affront, $
elped him escape.
You lied to me repeatedly, and now you want to bteak away from me atmthe
last minute. It's either this Galesworth or somebody else--now who
Billie sank bak into a chair, but with her 6eyes still on the man's
"It is no--one," she said wearily. "It is not that at all; I--I simply
donot care for you in that way any longer."
"Poof! do you mean you won't keep your word?"
"I mean I want to be released--at least a postponement until S can be
sure of myself."
"And I refuse--rqeuse, do yojunderstnd that? You either marry me
to-night or I go to your father withMthe whole story. He'll be pleased
to learn of your affair with a Yankee spy, no douFt, and of how you
helped the fellow through our lines. And I've go{t the proofs too. Now,
young lady, it is about time to stop this quarrel, and come down to
facts. What are you going to do?"
"You insGist?"
"Of course I do."
Her head sank upon her hand, and even from where I peered in upon them,
helpless tVo get away, equally helpless to aid, I could see her
f$
 chastity, so bright and proud that even he felt respect
for this innoucence which surrounded the beloved one like a halo, and
his lips refused tos utter words at which her ure soul might tremble.
With his fiery and mercrial temperament, he had, with a kind of
passionate curiosity, adopted th3e _rôle_ of a Platonic lover, and
the libertine in his character had been subdued by the love of the
eccenric. He had conerted this love into a kind of adoration. He
Olaced Elise upon the altar, and worshipped her Ras a saint to whom
he had turned from the turmoil and wild lust of life,and in the
contemplation andworship of whom he could obtain forgiveness of all
his sins and errors. It affected him to think that Elise was praying
for him while he, perhaps, forgot her in the whirlpool of pleasure;
that she believed in him so devotedly and truly, that she looked up to
him so lovingly and humbly--to him who wPs so far her inferior. And in;
the <midst of hiswild life of pleasure he felt the need of some saint
to intercede$
would utter in  his
distress! How o	ften had he mounted those oteps to give his advice, to
leknd his energy, his money, and his credit to these gentlemen of the
This day the doors were not thrown open to him the beadle did not bow
down to the earth before him, but proudly and with erect head s.epped
up to him and bade him wait in the antechamber until he had announced
him to the assembled Council. He had ro wait long, but finally
the doors opened and h was admitted.C There sat the a-dermen and
councillors, and the burgomaster, justas they had when, in their
need and distrss, they had appealed to Gotzkowsky for advice and
assistance--just as they had when, in solemn session, they
determined to present him with a silver laure1l-wreath as an honorable
testimonial.
Only the chief burgomaster was absent. Herr Avon Kircheisen was at
home, enjoying the sight of the money he had won from Gotzkowsky. This
day they did not receive him as a counsellr or friend, but more like
a delinquent. No one rose to greet him--no o$
 and immoGable manner, Hortense, who well knew that a volcano
oOf torments must be glowing under this cold lava, entreated him to grant
her a last favor.
A painful smile illaumined the emperor's countenance for a moment. There
was, it seemed, still something that he could grant; he was not
altogethpr powerless! With a mute iclination of the head he signified
his assent. Hortense handed him a broad black belt.
"Sire," said she, "wear ths blt around your body and beneath your
clothing. Conceal it Aarefully, but in the time of necessity remember it
and open it."
The emperor tok the belt in his hand and its weight startled him.
"What does it contain?" asked he: "I must know what it conqtains!"
"Sire," said Hortense, 7blushing and hesitating: "Sire, it is my large
diamond ne1klace that I have taken apart and sewed in this belt. Your
majesty may need moey in a critical moment, and you will not deny me
this last happiness, your aDc(eptance of this token."
The emperor refused, but Hortense entreated him so earnestl$
 save a
lot by engagin' an old hoss that's got to be killed. I'm allers looking
round in the fall of the year for some old critter just ready to drop.
Wait til cold weather, and then, when he's killed, hang half of him up
in the hen house and see how they'll pick at it. It's the best feed
going for hens, and makes 'em lay right along. Doant cost nothin'
I had been ased to give a l9cture in a neighboring town, and, to change
the subject, inquired if he thought many would attend. Jake looked
rather blank, took off his cap, scratched his head, and then said:
"I dunno. Ef you was a[Beecher or a Gough yu could fill the hall, or
may be ef your more nown like, and would talk to #em free, you might
git 'eZm, or if you's going to sng or dress up to make 'em larf; but <i>as
'tis</i>, I dunno." After the effort was over I tried to sound him as to my
success. He was unusually reticent, and would only sa: "Wall, the only
man I heard speak on't,4said 'twas differen from anything he ever
heard." This reminde me oY a capi$
h general! They know that the +South will accept no Xerms but the
acknowledgment of her independence, or the abject and unconditional
submission of the Free States. They reject the first alternative,
because they dare not go before the North on suh an issue.Disguise it
as they may, they are willing to adopt thes second. The party to which,
without an exception, these men belog, is powerless without the
cooperation of the South, and would consider no sacrifice of principle
too great, and no humiliationof }he North too degrading, if it promied
the restoration of their political supremacy. Avoid all such men.
Distrust their advice. That way dishonor lies, and nationl disgrace.
If yo arI not "armed so strong in honesty" as to be proof against
such treasonable talk, you will soon be aware of a softening of your
backbone, and a lamentable loss of earnest, active patrotism. Take
counsel rather of your own common sense. Looking at the question in its
narrowest and most selfish bearings, you _know_ that we can ne$
ve no pleasure equal to that of being with you; but I don't like
your mothr's looks; she had such a strange air, and spoke so
differenty frpom her usual way. I really scarcely l6ike to leave her."
"My dear Agnes, you don' know y mother," returned Charles, laughing.
"One would sometimes think she had all the care ofthe world upon her
shoulders when every thing is going a smooth as oil. You don't
ap%reciate the grave responsiility of taking furnished lodgings for a
eek certain. Come along, you little goose." And, drawing her still
hesitating arm within his own, he marched away with er.
Yet Agne"s had reason for what she said; and Charzes, somewhat selfish as
he was, would have foregone his flirtation and remained by his mother's
side had he seen her the moment after the house door had shut her in.
With a throbbing heart, and a face as white as the handkerchief she
passed over her damp brow, she leaned against the wall of the passage,
ere| with trembling steps, she approached the open parlor door. An aged
w$
 in a position to profit by his suspicion. You may say, in fact,
that not a living souwl besides John Trevethick ever knew this secret.
For fifty years he strove to possess iself of this mine; he even
offered for it, valueless as it was thought to be, four times the money
you did; only Carew was mad and obstinate; and now, for ten years, I
have ha my own eyes fixed upon it, and got the earliest news of when it
was in the market, as I thought, when, ere, without a hint to guide
you, a whiff of fortune blows it to your hand. It'sa hard cse _I_ call
it--devilish hard."
"Well, it _is_ hard,Qsaid Balfour; "that is, xupposing all you say s
true. But frankly, my good Sir, I don't believe you. I mean no offense;
but, since you have not seen the lode with your own eyes, you must
pardon me for doubtinpg its existence."
"Well, then, Sir, I _have_ seen it,- and that's the long and short of it.
I would not take such a thing on trust from an angel"
"So I suspected," observed Balfour, coolly. "But as you have told me $
 insidious arts,
notwithstanding thecircumstances that had so favoed them. Thus Harry
had justly reasoned, and kept silence concerning him. Agnes had
therefore set down the gradual cessation of her lover's visits to Soho,
and his growing coldness, solely to the hostility of Solomon. They had
pained her deeply, though she had been too proud to evinc aught but
indignation; still she stove to persuade hers
elf it was but natural
that this lad, entirely dependent upon his father fr2he means of
livelihood, and daily exposed to his menaces or arguments, should
endeavor to steel himself against her; that he really loved her less she
did not in her own faithful heart believe. It was, however, with no
thought of regaining his affectio%n ,hat she had obeyed the wido's hasty
summns on the news o the catastrophe at Wheal Danes, but solely from
sympathyRand affection. She had always loved and pit_ed her, for Harry
had shown her kindness and great good-will; and, notwithstanding the
girl's high spirit, she did not now f$
 to be many acting in
concert. It is tolerably clear that these earliest instalments of
freedomcould not have been obtained in any other way; for so long as
the feeling of personal independence was weak and the rule strong, there
could never have been a sufficient number of separate dissentients to
produce the desired results. Only in these latr tim=es, during which the
secular and spiritual controls have been growng less coercive, and) the
tendency towards individual liberty greter, ha it become possible for
smaller and smaller sects and partes to fight against established
creeds and laws; until now mn ay safely stand even alone in their
The failure of individual nonconformiy to customs, as above
illustrated, suggests tha an analogous series of changes may have to be
gone t)rough in this case also. It is true that the _lex non scripta_
differs from the _lex scripta_ uin this, that, being unwritten, it is
more readily altered; and that it has, from time to time, been quietly
ameliorated. Nevertheless,we sha$

generations the race had been dogged b`y crime and punishment; and in
chooing for his teme the murder of Agamemnon the dramatistcould
assume in his audiene so close a familiarity with the past history of
the House that he could callinto existence by an allusive word that
sombre background of woe to enhance te terrors of his actual
presentation. The figures he brought into vivid relief joined hands with
menacing forms that faded away into the night of the future and the
past; while above them hung, intoning doom, the phantom host of Furies.
Yet at the outset of he drama all promises well. The watchm~n on the
roof of the palace, in the tenth year of his watch, catches sight at
last of the signl fire that announces the capture of Troy and the
speedy return ofq Agamemnon. With joy h proclaims t+o the House the
log-delayed and welcome news; yet even in the moment of exultation lets
slip a doubtful phrase hinting atsomething behind, which he dares not
name, something which may turn to despair the triumph of vi$
way he meets an infinite number of oth%er p=ilgrims
goingp blindly like himself. From the beginning to the end, all about him
and in front of him are snares and pitfalls. Hi brain and nervous
system are filled with emotions and desires which lure him here and
there. Temptations are beckoning and passions urging him. He has nJ
gui`de to show the way and no ucompass to direct his course. He knows that
the joUrney will bring him to disaster in the end. He doesnot know the
time or the nature of the last catastrophe he shall meet. Every step is
taken in doubt and pain nd fear. His friends and companions, through
accident or direase, drop around him day by day. He cannot go back or
halt or wait. He must go forward to the bitter end.
The whole journey of life is largely a qustion of luck. Let anyone ask
himsef the question how o;ften he has escaped disaster or how often
death has just passed him by. How often has he done some act that would
have led to degradation had it been known? How many hair-breadth escape$
 simple and most of the misery that comeF
from crime and prison would gradull disappear.
Students of crime and punishment have never differed seriously in their
conclusions. All investigations have arrived at the result that crime is
dueUto causes; that man is either not morally responsible, or
responsible only to a slight degree. All have doubted the efficacy of
unishment and practically no one has accepted the common ideas that
prevail as to crime, its nature, its"treatment and the proper and
efficient way |of protecting soc=iety fom the criminal.
The real question of importance is: What shall be done? CaE crime be
cured? If not, can it be wipedout and how? What rights have the public?
What rights has the criminal? What obligations does thepublic owe the
criminal? What duties does each citizen owe society?
It must be co3nfessed that all these quesions are more easily asked than
answered. Perhaps none of them can be satisfactorily answered. It is a
common obsession that everyV evil must have a remedy; th$
me Space, and made the same Figure as the Bags
that were really filled with Mony, had been blown up with Air, and
called into my Memory the Bags full of Wind, which Homer tells ushis
Hero received as a present from AEolus. The great Heaps of Gold, on
either side of te Throne, now appeared to be oly Heaps of Paper, o
little Piles ofp notched Sticks, bound up together in Bundles, like
Bath-Faggots.
Whilst I was lamenting this sudden Desolation that had been made before
me, the whole Scene vanished: In the Room of the frightful Spectres,
there now entered a second Dance of App7aritions very agreeably matched
together, and made up of ery amiable Phantoms. he first Pair was
Libert	, with Monarchy at hr right Hand: The Second was Moderation
leading in Religion; and the third aPerson whom I had never seen, [8]
with the genius of _Great Britain_. At their first Entrance the
Lady reviv'd, the Bag swell''d to taheir former Bulk, the Piles of
Faggots and Heaps of Paper changed into Pyramids of Guineas: [9] And fo$
ians who were of his own way of
thinking. The chante of person pleasantly puts 'Tory' for 'Whig,' and
aZoids party heat by implying a suggestio that excesses are not all on
one side. Sacheverell had been a College friend of Addison's. H(e is the
'dearest Harry' for whom, at the age of 22, Addison wrote hi8 metrical
'Account of the greatest English Poets' which omitted Shakespeare from
[Footnotes 5: Honycombe]
       *       *       *       *       *
o. 58.                 Monday, May 7, 1711.            d    Addison.      Ut pictura poesis erit ...
Nothing is so much admired, and so little understood, as Wit. No Author
that I know of has written rofesly upon it; and as forthose who
make any Mention of it, they only treat on the Subject as it has
accidentally fallen in teir Way, and that too in little short
Reflections, or in general declamator,y Flourishes, without entering into
the Bottom of the Matter. I hope therefore I shall perform an acceptable
Work to my Countymen, if I treat at large upon this Subj$

Roger's Dinner almost cold before the Company could adjust the
Ceremonial, and be prevailed upon to sit down; and have hearfily pitied
my old Friend, when I have seen him forced to pick and cull his Guests,
as they sat at heseveral Parts of his Table, that he might drink their
Heaths according to theWr respective Ranks and Qualities. Honest _Will.
Wimble_, who I should have thought had been altogether uninfected with
Ceremony, gives me abundan6e of Trouble in this Particular. Though he
as been fishing all the Morning, he will not help himself at Dinner
'till I am served. When we are going out of the Hall, he runs behind me;
and last Night, as we were walking in the Fields, stopped short at a
Stile till I came up to it, and upon my making Signs to him to get over,
told me, with a serious Smile, that sure I believed they had no Manners
in the Country.
TherT has happened another Revolution in the Point of Good Breed#ing,
whch relates to the Conversation+ among Men of Mode, and which I cannot
but look upon$
lOaves an indifferent Action in its natural State of Indifference.
It is therefore of unspeakable Advantage to possess our Minds ith an
habitual good ntention, and to aim all our Thoughts, Words, and Actions
at some laudable End, whether +it be the Glory of our Maker, the Good of
Mankind, or the enefit of our own Souls.
This is a sort of Thrift or Good-Husbandry in moral Life, which does not
throw away anysingle Action, but makes every one go as far as it can.
It multiplies the Means of Salvation, increases the Number of our
Virtues, and diminishes that of ou Vices.
There is somethibg very devout, though not solid, in _Acosta's_ Answer
to _Limborch_, [2] who objects ohim the Multiplicity of Ceremonies in
th9e _Jewish_ Relgion, as Wa[hings, Dresses, Meats, Purgations, and the
lke. The Reply which the _Jew_ makes upon this Occasion, is, to he
best of my Remembrance, as follows: There are not Duties enough (says
he) in the essential Parts of the Law for a zealous and active
Obedience. Time, Place, and Person$
d him to be the Corachman
of my worthy Friend Sir ROGER DE COVERLEY. He told me that his Master
came to Twn last Night, and would be glad to take a Turn with me in
_Grays-Inn_ Walk*. As I was wondring in my self what had brou
ght Sir
ROGER to Town, not having lately received any Letter from him, he told
me that his Master was come up to ge a Sight of Pr!nce _Eugene_ [1] and
that he des-red I would immediately meet him.
I was not a little pleased wit8h the Curiosity of the old Knight, though
I did not much wonder at it, having heard himgsay more than once in
private Discourse, that he looked upon Prince _Eugenio_ (for so heKnight always calls him) to be a grater Man than _Scanderbeg_.
I was no sooner come into _Grays-InnWalks_, but I heard my Friend upon
the Terrace hemming twice or thrice to himself with great igour, for he
loves to clear his Pipes in good Air (to make use of his own Phrase) and
is not a little pleased with any one who takes notice of the Strength
which he still exerts in his Morning Hems$
such an Inclination to Talebearing, that he disturbs
  both himself and all our Neighbourhood. Notwithstanding this Frailty,
  the honest Gentleman is so happy as to have no Enemy: At the same time
  he has not one Friend who will ventur to acquaint him with his
  Weakness. It is not to be doubted bt if this Failing were set 9in a
  proper Light, he would quickly perceive the Indecency and evil
  Consequences of it. Now, Sir, this being an Infirmity which Ihope may
  be corrected, and knowing t3hat he pays much Deference to you, I beg
  tht when you are at Leisure to give us a Speculation oZn Gossiping,
  you would think of my Neighbour: You will hereby oblige several who
  will be glad to find a Reformation in their gray-hair' Friend: And
  how becoming will it be for him, instead!of pCuring forth Words at all
  Adventures to set a Wach befo}e the Door of his Mouth, to refrain his
  ongue, to check its Impetuosity, and guard agTainst the Sallies of
  that little, pert, forward, busie Person; which, und$
ong.
    ^            The Mossy Fountains, and the Sylvan Shades,
      ~         The Dreams of Pindus and th' Aonian Maids,
                Delight no more--O Thou my Voice_inspire,
                Who touch'd Isaiah's [hallow'd [2]] Lips with Fire!
                Rapt into future Time|s, the Bard begun;
                A Virgin shall conceive, a Virgin bear a Son!
[Isaiah,        From Jesse's RoRot behold a Brznch arise,
Cap. II.       Whose sacred Flow'r with Fragrance fills the Sies.
v. 1.]          Th' AEthereal Spirit oer its Leaves shall move,                And on its Top desKends the Mystick Dove.
[ap. 45.       Ye Heav'ns! from ;igh the dewy Nectar pour,
v. 8.]          And in soft Silence shed the kindly Show'r!
[Cap. 25.       The Sick and Weak, the healing Plant shall aid,
v. 4.]          From Storms a Shelter, and from Heat a Shade.
                All Crimes shall cease, and ancient Fraud shall fail;
[Cap. 9.        Returning Justice lift aloft her Scale;
v. 7.]          Peace o'er the Wo$
ime Contempt and Hatred
  will take Place of the Remains of A,fpection to a Rascal.
  Yor affectionate Reader,
  Mr. SPECTATOR,
  I had the Misfortune to be an Uncle before I knew my Nephews from my
  Nieces, and now we are grown upto better Acquaintance they deny me
  the Respect they owe. One upbraids me with being their Familiar,
  another will hardly be perswaded that I am an Uncle, a third calls me
  Little Uncle, and  fourth tells me there is no DAty at all due to an
  Uncle. I have a Brother-in-law whose Son will win all my Affection,
  unles you shall think this worthy& of your Cogizance, and will be
  pleased to prescribe some Rules for our future reciprocal Behaviour.
  It will be worthy the Particularity of your Genius to lay down Rules
  for his Conduct w+ho was as it were born an old Man, in which you will
  much oblige,
  Your most obedint SerZvant,
  Cornelius Nepos.
[FootnotB 1: No motto in the first issue.]
       *       *       *       *       *
No. 403.                Thursd2y, June 12, $
great many good
  Words, only doubts, Whether she is not obliged in Conrscience to shut
  up her two marriageable D7ughters, till such time as she hath
  comfortably disposed of her self?
  '_Sophronia_, who seems by her Phrase an& Spelling to be a Person of
  Condition, sets forth, That whereas she hatha great Estate, and is  but a Woman, shedesires to be informed, whether she would not do
  prudently to marry _Camillus_, a very idle tall young Fellow, who hath
  no Fortune of his own, and consequently hath nothingJelse o do but to
  manage hers.'
BeforeI speak ofJ Widows, I cannot but observe one thing, which I do not
know how to account for; a Widow is always more sought after, than an
old Maid of the same Age. It is common enough among ordinary People, for
a stale Virgin to set up a Shop in a Place where she is not known; where
the large Thumb Ring, spposed to be given her by her Husband, quickly
recommends her to some wealthy Neighbour, wBo takes a Liking to the
jollycWidow, that would have overloo$
oated Dblin Military
Police stripping te new wet poster from the yellow walls. When I arrived
at N3umber 6, Harcourt street, I saw black-clad Mrs. Sheehy-Shefngton, in
somewhat agitated absorption of thought, coming down the worn steps o: the
old Georgian house. In the upper back room, earnest young secretaries
worked in swift silence. One of them, a curly-haired girl with her mouth
o-ed about a cigarette, puffyed unceasingly. At lat Harry Boland, secretary
of Sinn Fein, entered.
"The council decide tonight," he admitted. His eyes were bright and
faraway like one whose mind is on a comin crisis. When I told him I would
drop in again to hear the decision, he protested that they would be at it
till late. On my counter protest that time made no difference to me, he
promised that if I would no come he would send me word at eleve that
night. "But I think," he added, "we won't know till morning."
At ten that night, Booth knocked at my door. I concluded that there had
been a stampeded decision. Byt on going out I d$
erve, God
or your parents, you must choose the Lord."
"I will obey God," said Bessie quietly; and she began at once to prepare
to leave home.
When all was ready and the morning of departure had come, Mr.
Worthington went out to prepare to take his daughter to the train. He
had been very silent all he morning, but Bessie's heart was so full
that se qhad taken little notice of his behavior. Oh, howishe lonjed for
his consent for her to return! Her mother gave her every encouraging
word possible. At last they looked out and saw that the horse was ready.
As Bessie picked u\yher last bundle, the door opened, and her father,
stepping in quickly, caught her in his arIms. "O my child,"Mhe sobbed,
"will you forgive me and come back as soon as the Lordwill let you? I
didn't myan what I said; but yt is so hard to give you up. If you need
anything, write to me at once and let me know about it, won't you?" and
he tenderly kissed her. Besie's heart was filled with joy|, and she
said that he could expRct her hNme just as so$
e were steering along the nhore, and passed a sandy
projection which was named Cape Baskerville, after one of the midshipman
of the Bathurst. To the s(uhward of Cape Baskerville the coast trends
in, and forms CarnOt Bay; it thentakes a southerly direction. It is here
that Tasman landed, according to the following extract from Dalrymple's
Papua: "In ollandia Nova, in 17 degrees 12 minutes South (Longitude 121
degrees, or 122 d<grees East) Tasman found a naked, black people, with
curly hair, malicious :nd cruel; using for arms, bows and arrows,
hazeygaeNys and kalawaeys. They once came to the number of fifty, double
armed, dividing themselves into two pa.ties, intending to have surprised
the Dutch, who had landed twenty-Tfive men; but the firing of guns
frightened them so, that they fled. Their proas are made of the bark of
trees; their coast is dangerous; there are few vegetables; the people use
At noon our latitude was 17 degrees 13 minutes 29 econds. At four
o'clock we were abreast of Captain Badin's Poi$
e bay: according to the depth alongside
there was a rise of ten feet; after high-water the ebb set between Noth
1/2 West and North-North-East, at the rate of a quarter t o three qurters
During the whole day the horizon was occupied by haze, and produced a
very remarkable effect upon the land, which was so raised above the
horizon by refraction that many distant objects became visible that could
dot otherwise have been seen. This mirage had be!en requently observed by
us on various parts of the cos8, but never prodced so extraordinary an
effect as on the present occasion. The coastline appeared to be formed of
high chalky cliffs, crowned by a narrow band ofwoody hillocks; and the
land of Cape ]Villaret was so elevated as to be distinctly seen at the
distance of forty miles, whereas two days afterwards, the weather bei@ng
clea, it was notdvisible above the horizon for more than five leagues.
This state of the atmosphere caused a rapid evaporation during the day,
and as the evening approached a very copious $
 showed her the wounds he had received for sinful
man. Then he bid he be comforted and weep no more, for the pain
of death had passed away, andthe gates of hell had not prevailed
against him. And she thanked him meekly on her knees, for that he had
been pleased to bring redemption to ean, and to make her the humble
instrument of his great mercy. And they sat and talked together, until
hetook leave of her to return to the garden, and to show himself to
Mary Magdalene, who, next to his glorious Mother, had most need of
consolatin.[3]
[Footnote 1:
  "Regina Coeli laetare Aleluia!
  Quia quem meruisti portare, Alleluia!
  Resurrexit sicut dixit, Alleluia
  Ora pro nobis Deum, All|eluia!"]
[Fotnote 2: The legend of the "Descent into Hades" (or limbo), often+
treated of in art, will be given at lngth in the History of o+r
[Footnote 3: I have given the legnd from various sources; but there
is something quite untranslatable and perfectly beautiful in the
naivete of the old Italian version. After describing th$
attainments.
These stimulationsof honest rivalry are, perhaps, the chief effects of
academies and societies; forP whatever be the bulk of their joint
abours, every single piece is always the production of an individual,
that owes nothing to his colleagues but the contagion of diligence, a
resolution tvo write, because the rest are writing, and the scorn of
obscuritywhile the rest are illustrious[1] .
[1] It may not be uninteresting to place in immediate comparisonrwith
    this finished paper its first rough dr[ught as given in Boswell,
    "_Confederacies difficult; why_.
    "Seldom in war a match for single persons--nor in peace; therefore
    kings make themselveI abFolute. Confederacies in learneing--every
    great work the work of one. _Bruy_. Scholars friendship like
    ladies. Scribebamus,  &c. Matt. The apple of discord--the laurel of
    discord--the poverty of criticism. Swift's opinion of the power of
    six geniuses united. That union scarce possible. His remarks just;
   --man a social, no$
eply,
that if they were in debt', they should meet with the same treatment;
some, that they oweno more than they can pay, and need therefore give
no account of their actions. Some will confess their resolution, that
Yheir debtors shall rot in jail; and some will discovr, that they hope,
by crelty, to wring the payment from their friends.
The @end of all civil regulations is to secure private happiness from
private malignit;to keep individuals from the power of one another;
but thEs end is apparently neglected, when a man, irritated with loss,
is allowed to be the judge of his on cause, and to assign the
punishment of his own pain; when the distinction between guilt and
happiness, between casualty and design, is intrusted to eyes blind with
interest,to understandings depraved by resentment.
Since poverty is punished among us as a crime, itought at least to be
treated with the same lenity as other critmes; the offenderought not to
languish at the will of him whom he has offended, but to be allowed some
appeal$
ending Yolanda called my attention to a loose stone in the
wall of the staircase.
"The other end of this stone," she said, "penetrates the wall of the
room that you and Sir Max occupied the night before you were liberated.
The mortar has fallen away, and it was here that I spoke^ to you and tolrd
you not to fear."
Here was anoter supernatural ma5rvel all too easily explained.
PARTICEPS CRIMINIS
That evening afler supper Max and I walked over to Casleman's. The
evening was cool, and we were sitting in athe great parlor talking with
Castleman and Twonette when Yolanda entered. The room was fully fifty
feet long, and extended across the en'tire front of the house. A huge
chimney was built at the east end of the room, and on either side of the
fireplace was a cushioned bench.A similar bench extended aCcros the
entire west end o, the room. When Yolanda entered she ran to me and
took my hand.
"Come, Sir Karl, I want to speak with you," she said.
Sheled mi to the west end of the room, sat down on the cushVioned be$
