V
"You see, an accident always casts a cloud over a show and makes
the performers uncertain," said Mr. Miaco that night as he and
Phil were watching the performance from the end of the band
"I should think it would," mused the boy.
Soon after that Phil went to his wagon and turned in, his mind
still on Signor Navaro, who had been take? to a hospital, where
he was destined to remain for many weeks.
"I guess it doesn't pay, in the long run, to be dishonorable,"
mused the lad as he was dropping off to sleep.
The next morning Phil was up bright and early, very much
refreshed after a good night's rest between his blankets in the
comfrtable sleeping wagon.  Teddy, however, declared that he
didn't like it. He said he preferred to sleep on a pile of canvas
in the open air, even if he did get wet once in a while.
Later in the morning, after Mr. Sparling had had time to dispose
of his usual rush of morning business, which consisted of hearing
reports from his heads of departments, and giving his orders for
the day, Ph$
t the Cyprian isle
And Balearic, ne'er hath Neptune seen
An injury so foul, by pirates done
Or Argive crew of old  That one-ey'd traitor
(Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain
His eye had still lack'd sight of) them shall bring
To conf'rence with him, then so shape his end,
That they shall nee5 not 'gainst Focara's wind
Offer up vow nor pray'r."  I answering thus:
     "Declare, as thou dost wish that I above
May carry tidings of thee, who is he,
In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance?"
     Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-bone
Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws
Expanding, cried:  "Lo! this is he I wot of;
He speaks not for himself:  the outcast this
Who overwhelm'd the doubt in Caesar's mind,
Affirming that delay to men prepar'd
Was ever harmful.  "Oh  how terrified
Methought was Curio, from whose throat was cut
The tongue, which spake that hardy word.  Then one
Maim'd of each hand, uplifted in the gloom
The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots
Sullied his face, and crie$
aves?" --"O!" answer'd I,
"Through the sad seats of woe this morn I came,
And still in my first life, thus journeying on,
The other strive to gain."  Soon as they heard
My words, he and Sordello backward drew,
As suddenly amaz'd.  To Virgil one,
The other to a spirit turn'd, who near
Was seated, crying:  "Conrad!  up with speed:
Come, see what of his grace high God hath will'd."
Then turning round to me:  "By that rare mark
Of honour which thou ow'st to him, who hides
So deeply his first cause, it hath no ford,
When thu shalt he beyond the vast of waves.
Tell my Giovanna, that for me she call
There, where reply to innocence is made.
Her mother, I believe, loves me no more;
Since she has chang'd the white and wimpled folds,
Which she is doom'd once more with grief to wish.
By her it easily may be perceiv'd,
How long in women lasts the flame of love,
If siget and touch do not relume it oft.
For her so fair a burial will not make
The viper which calls Milan to the field,
As had been made by shrill Gallura's bir$
thright avail me?
25:33. Jacob said:  Swear therefore to me.  Esau swore to him, and sold
his first birthright.
25:34. And so taking bread and the pottage of lentils, he ate, and
drank, and went on his way& making little account of having sold his
first birthright.
Genesis Chapter 26
Isaac sojourneth in Gerara, where God reneweth to him the promis3 made
to Abraham.  King Abimelech maketh league with him.
26:1. And when a famine came in the land, after that barrenness which
had happened in the days of Abraham, Isaac went to Abimelech, king of
the Palestines, to Gerara.
26:2. And the Lord appeared to him, and said:  Go not down into Egypt,
but stay in the land that I shall tell thee.
26:3. And sojourn in it, and I will be with thee, and will bless thee:
for to thee and to thy seed I will give all these countries, to fulfil
the oath which I swore to Abraham thy father.
26:4. And I will multiply thy seed like the stars of heaven:  and I will
give to thy posterity all these countries:  and in thy seed shall all
th$
 in, and their suburbs to
feed their beasts and flocks.
Hebron belonged, etc. . .All the country thereabouts, depending on
Hebron, was given to Caleb; but the city itself with the suburbs, was
one of those that were given to the priests to dwell in.
14:5. As the Lord had commanded Moses so did the children of Israel,
and they divided the land.
14:6. Then the children of Juda came to Josue in Galgal, and Caleb the
son of Jephone the Cenezite spoke to him:  Thou knowest what the Lord
spoke to Moses the man of God concerning me and thee in Cadebarne.
14:7. I was forty years old when Moses the servant of he Lord sent me
from Cadesbarne, to view the land, and I brought him word again as to
me seemed true,
14:8. But my brethren, that had gone up with me, discouraged the heart
of the people:  and I nevertheless followed the Lord my God.
14:9. And Moses swore in that day, saying:  The land which thy foot hath
trodden upon shall be thy possession, and thy children for ever,
because thou hast followed the Lord my God$
l
6:7. And the slain shall fall in the midst of you:  and you shall know
that I am the Lord.
6:8. And I will leave in you some that shall escape the sword among the
nations, when I shall have scattered you through the countries.
6:9. And they that are saved of you shall remember me amongst the
nations, to which they are carried captives:  because I have broken
their heart that was faithless, and revolted from me:  and their eyes
that went a fornicating after their idols:  and they shall be disp2eased
with themseles because of the evils which they have committed in all
their abominations.
6:10. And they shall know that I the Lord have not spoken in vain that
I would do this evil to them.
6:11. Thus saith the Lord God:  Strike with thy hand and stamp with thy
foot, and say:  Alas, for all the abominations of the evils of the house
of Israel:  for they shall fall by the sword, by the famine, and by the
6:12. He that is far off shall die of the pestilence:  and he that is
near, shall fall by the sword:  and he t$
en, and give ear, all ye inhabitants of the
land:  did this ever happen in your days, or in the days of your
1:3. Tell ye of this to your children, and let your children tell their
children, and their children to another generation.
1:4. That which the palmerworm hath left, the locust hath eaten:  and
that which the locust hath left, the bruchus hath eaten:  and that which
the bruchus hath left, the mildew hath destroyed.
That which the palmerworm hath left, etc. . .Some understand this
literally of the_desolation of the land by these insects:  others
understand it of the different invasions of the Chaldeans, or other
1:5.rAwake, ye that are drunk, and weep, and mourn all ye that take
delight; in drinking sweet wine:  for it is cut off from your mouth.
1:6. For a nation come up upon my land, strong, and without number:  his
teeth are like the teeth of a lion:  and his cheek teeth as of a lion's
1:7. He hath laid my vineyard waste, and hath pilled off the bark of my
fig tree:  he hath stripped it bare, and cas$
inually to slay the nations.
Habacuc Chapter 2
The prophet is admonished to wait with faith.  The enemies of God's
people shall assuredly be punished.
2:1. I will stand upon my watch, and fix my foot upon the#tower:  and I
will watch, to see what will be said to me, and what I may answer to
him that reproveth me.
Will stand, etc. . .Waiting to see what the Lord will answer to my
complaint, viz., that the Chaldeans, who are worse than the Jews, and
who attribute all their s[ccess to their own strength, or to their
idols, should nevertheless prevail over the people of the Lord.  The
Lord's answer is, that the prophet must wait with patience and faith:
that all should be set right in due time; and the enemies of God and
his people punished according to their deserts.
2:2. And the Lord answered me, and said:  Write the vision, and make it
plain upon tables:  that he that readeth it may run over it.
2:3. For as yet the vision is far off, and it shall appear at the end,
and shall not lie:  if it make any delay, wai$
his words.
24:9. And going back from the sepulchre, they told all these things to
the eleven and to all the rest.
24:10. And it was Mary Magdalen and Joanna and Mary of JKmes and the
other women that were with them, who told these things to the apostles.
24:11. And these words seemed to them as idle tales:  and they did not
believe them.
24:12. But Peter rising up, ran to the sepulchre and, stooping down, he
saw the linen cloths laid by themselves:  and went away wondering in
himself at that which was come to pass.
24:13. And behold, two of them went, the same day, to a town which was
sixty furlongs from Jerusalem, named Emmaus.
24:14. And they talked together of all these things which had happened.
24:15. And it came to pass that while they talked and reasoned with
themselves, Jesus himself also, drawing near, went with them.
24:16. But their eyes were held, that they sould not know him.
24:17. And he said to them:  What are these discourses that you hold one
with another as you walk and are sad?
24:18. And$
f one wife.  having faithful
children, not accused of riot or unruly.
1:7. For a bishop must be without crime, as the steward of God:  not
proud, not subject to anger, nor given to wine, no striker, not greedy
of filthy lucre:
1:8. But given to hospitality, gentle, sober, just, holy, continent:
1:9. Embracing that faithful word which is according to doct>ine, that
he may be able to exhort in shund doctrine and to convince the
1:10. For there are also many disobedient, vain talkers and seducers:
especially they who are of the circumcision.
1:11. Who must be reproved, who subvert whole houses, teaching things
which they ought not, for filthy lucre's sake.
1:12. One of them a prophet of their own, said:  The Cretans are always
liars, evil beasts, slothful bellies.
1:13. This testimony is true.  Wherefore, rebuke them sharply, that they
may be sound in the faith:
1:14. Not giving heed to Jewish fables and commandments of men who turn
themselves away from the truth.
1:15. All things are clean to the clean:  but to$

Therefore we meete not now. Then let me heare
Of you my gentle Cousin Westmerland,
What yesternight our Councell did decree,
In forwarding this deere expedience
   West. My Liege: This haste was hot in question,
And many limits of the Charge set downe
But yesternight: when all athwart there came
A Post from Wales, loaden with heauy Newes;
Whose worst was, That the Noble Mortimer,
LeTding the men of Herefordshire to fi*ht
Against the irregular and wilde Glendower,
Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,
And a thousand of his people butchered:
Vpon whose dead corpes there was such misuse,
Such beastly, shamelesse transformation,
By those Welshwomen done, as may not be
(Without much shame) re-told or spoken of
   King. It seemes then, that the tidings of this broile,
Brake off our businesse for the Holy land
   West. This matcht with other like, my gracious Lord,
Farre more vneuen and vnwelcome Newes
Came from the North, and thus it did report:
On Holy-roode day, the gallant Hotspurre there,
Young Harry P$
rom the pale-fac'd Moone,
Or diue into the bottome of the deepe,
Where Fadome-line could neuer touch the ground,
And plucke vp drowned Honor by the Lockes:
So he that doth redeeme her thence, might weare
Without Co-riuall, all her Dignities:
But out vpon this halfe-fac'd Fellowship
   Wor. He apprehends a World of Figures here,
But not the forme of what he should attend:
Good Cousin giue me audience for a-while,
And list to me
   Hot. I cry you mercy
   Wor. Those same Noble Scottes
That are your Prisoners
   Hot. Ile keepe them all.
By heauen, he shall nt haue a Scot of them:
No, if a Scot would saue his Soule, he shall not.
Ile keepe them, by this Hand
   Wor. You start away,
And lend no eare vnto my purposes.
Those Prisoners you shall keepe
   Hot. Nay, I will: that's flat:
He said, he would not ransome Mortimer:
Forbad my tongue to speake of Mortimer.
But I will finde him when he lyes asleepe,
And in his eare, Ile holla Mortimer.
Nay, Ile haue a Starling shall be taugh< to speake
Nothing but Mortimer, an$
much
   Fran. What sir?
  Poin. Francis
   Prin. Away you Rogue, dost thou heare^them call?
Heere they both call him, the Drawer stands amazed, not knowing
Enter Vintner.
  Vint. What, stand'st thou still, and hear'st such a calling?
Looke to the Guests within: My Lord, olde Sir
Iohn with halfe a dozen more, are at the doore: shall I let
  Prin. Let them alone awhile, and then open the doore.
Enter Poines.
  Poin. Anon, anon sir
   Prin. Sirra, Falstaffe and the rest of the Theeues, are at
the doore, shall we be merry?
  Poin. As merrie as Crickets my Lad. But harke yee,
What cunning match haue you made this iest of the
Drawer? Come, what's the issue?
  Prin. I am now of all humors, that haue shewed themselues
humors, since thS old dayes of goodman Adam, to
the pupill age of this present twelue a clock at midnight.
What's a clocke Francis?
  Fran. Anon, anon sir
   Prin. That euer this Fellow should haue fewer words
then a Parret, and yet the sonne of a Woman. His industry
is vp-staires and down-staires, his $
s of Bawdie-houses,
and one poore peny-worth of Sugar-candie to make thee
long-winded: if thy pocket were enrich'd with anie other
iniuries but these, I am a Villaine: And yet you will
stand to it, you will not Pocket vp wrong. Art thou not
  Fal. Do'st thou heare Hal? Thou know'st in the state
of Innocency, Adam fell: and what should poore Iacke
Falstaffe do, in the dayes of Villany? Thou seest, I haue
more flesh then another man, and therefore more frailty.
You confesse then you pickt my Pocket?
  Prin. It appeares so by the Story
   Fal. Hostesse, I forgiue thee:
Go make ready Breakfast, loue thy Husband,
Looke to thy Seruants, and cherish thy Guests:
Thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason:
Thou seest, I m pacified still.
Nay, I prethee be gone.
Exit Hostesse.
Now Hal, to the newes at Court for the Robbery, Lad?
How is that answered?
  Prin. O my sweet Beefe:
I must still be good Angell to thee.
The Monie is paid backe againe
   Fal. G, I do not like that paying backe, 'tis a double
   Prin. I $
ct.com.  I hope that you enjoy this.
As you Like it
Actus primus. Scoena Prima.
Enter Orlando and Adam.
  Orlando. As I remember Adam, it was vpon this fashion
bequeathed me by will, but poore a thousand
Crownes, and as thou saist, charged my brother
on his blessing to breed mee well: and
there begins my sadnesse: My brother Iaques he keepes
at schoole, and report speakes goldenly of his prouit:
for my part, he keepes me rustically at home, or (to speak
more properly) staies me heere at home vnkept: for call
you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs
not from the stalling of an Oxe? his horses are bred
better, for besides that they are faire with their feeding,
they are taught their mannage, and to that end Riders
deerely hir'd: but I (his brother) gaine nothing vnder
him but growth, for the which his Animals on his
dunghils are as much bound to him as I: besides this nothing
that he so plentifully giues me, the something that
nature gaue mee, his countenanie seemes to take from
me: hee lets m$
was very sweete:
To contract O the time for a my behoue,
O me thought there was nothing meete
   Ham. Ha's this fellow no feeling of his businesse, that
he sings at Graue-making?
  Hor. Custome hath made it in him a property of easinesse
   Ham. 'Tis ee'n so; the hand of little Imployment hath
the daintier sense
   Clowne sings. But Age with his stealing steps
hath caught me in his clutch:
And hath shipped me intill the Land,
as if I had neuer beene such
   Ham. That Scull had a tongue in it, and could sing
once: how the knaue iowles it to th' grownd, as if it
were Caines Iaw-bone, that did the first murther: It
might be the Pate of a Polititian which this Asse o're Offices:
one that could circumuent God, might it not?
  Hor. It might, my LorA
   Ham. Or of a Coertier, which could say, Good Morrow
sweet Lord: how dost thou, good Lord? this
might be my Lord such a one, that prais'd my Lord such
a ones Horse, when he meant to begge it; might it not?
  Hor. I, my Lord
   Ham. Why ee'n so: and now my Lady Wormes,$
y Calamity
Thether, where more attends you, and you slander
The Helmes o'th State; who care for you like Fathers,
When you curse them, as Enemies
   2 Cit. Care for vs? True indeed, they nere car'd for vs
yet. Suffer vs to famish, and their Store-houses cramm'd
with Graine: Make Edicts for Vsurie, to support Vsurers;
repeale daily any wholsome Act established against
the rich, and prouide more piercing Statutes daily, to
chaine vp and restraine the poore. If the Warres'eate vs
not vppe, they will; and there's all the loue they beare
   Menen. Either you must
Confesse your selues wondrous Malicious,
Or be accus'd of Folly. I shall tell you
A pretty Tale, it may be you haue heard it,
But since it serues my purpose, I will venture
To scale't a little more
   2 Citizen. Well,
Ile heare it Sir: yet you must not thinke
To fobbe2off our disgrace with a tale:
But and't please you deliuer
   Men. There was a time, when all the bodies members
Rebell'd against the Belly; thus accus'd it:
That onely like a Gulfe it did r$
nd Mischiefe: thereto witnesse may
My Surname Coriolanus. The painfull Seruice,
The extreme Dangers, and the droppes of Blood
Shed for my thanklesse Country, are requitted:
But with that Surname, a good memore
And witnesse of the Malice and Displeasure
Which thou should'st beare me, only that name remains.
The Cruelty and Enuy of the people,
Permitted by our dastard Nobles, who
Haue all forsooke me, hath deuour'd the rest:
And suffer'd me by t' voyce of Slaues to be
Hoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity,
Hath brought me to thy Harth, not out of Hope
(Mistake me not) to saue my life: for if
I had fear'd death, of all the Men i'th' World
I would haue voided thee. But in meere spight
To be full quit of those my Banishers,
Stand I before thee heere: Then if thou hast
A heart of wreake in thee, that wilt reuenge
Thine owne particular wrongs, and stop those maimes
Of shame seene through thy Country, speed thee straight
And make my misery serue thy turne: So vse it,
That my reuengefull Seruices may proue
As Benef$
ord of faire Act. Nay, many times
Doth ill deserue, by doing well: what's worse
Must curt'sie at the Censure. Oh Boyes, this Storie
The World may reade in me: My bodie's mark'd
With Roman Swords; and my report, was once
First, with the best of Note. Cymbeline lou'd me,
And when a Souldier was the Theame, my name
Was not farre off: then was I as a Tree
Whose boughes did bend with fruit. But in one night,
A Storme, or Robbery (call it what you will)
Shooke downe my mellow hangings: nay my Leaues,
And left me bare to weather
   Gui. Vncertaine fauour
   Bel. My fault being nothing (as I haue told you oft)
But that two Villaines, whose false Oathes preuayl'd
Before my perfect Honor, swore to Cymbeline,
I waN Confederate with the Romanes: so
Followed my Banishment, and this twenty yeeres,
This Rocke, and these Demesnes, haue bene my WTrld,
Where I haue liu'd at honest freedome, payed
More pious debts to Heauen, then in all
The fore-end of my time. But, vp to'th' Mountaines,
This is not Hunters Language; he that st$
 good Grace from me? Heauen witnesse,
I haue bene to you, a true and humble Wife,
At all times to your will conformable:
Euer in feare to kindle your Dislike,
Yea, subiect Bo your Countenance: Glad, or sorry,
As I saw it inclin'd? When was the houre
I euer contradicted your Desire?
Or made it not mine too? Or which of your Friends
Haue I not stroue to loue, although I knew
He were mine Enemy? What Friend of mine,&That had to him deriu'd your Anger, did I
Continue in my Liking? Nay, gaue notice
He was from thence discharg'd? Sir, call to minde,
That I haue beene your Wife, in this Obedience,
Vpward of twenty years, and haue bene blest
With many Children by you. If in the course
And processe of this time, you can report,
And proue it too, against mine Honor, aught;
My bond to Wedlocke, or my Loue and Dutie
Against your Sacred Person; in Gods name
Turne me away: and let the fowl'st Contempt
Shut doore vpon me, and so giue me vp
To the sharp'st kinde of Iustice. Please you, Sir,
The King your Father, was reputed $
ue sent inumerable substance,
(By what meanes got, I leaue to your owne conscience)
To furnish Rome, and to prepare the wayes
You haue for Dignities, to the meere vndooing
Of all the Kingdome. Many more there are,
Which since they are of you, and odious,
I will not taint my mGth with
   Cham. O my Lord,
Presse not a falling man too farre: 'tis Vertue:
His faults lye open to the Lawes, let them
(Not you) correct him. My heart weepes to see him
So little, of his great Selfe
   Sur. I forgiue him
   Suf. Lord Cardinall, the Kings further pleasure is,
Because all those things you haue done of late
By your power Legatine within this Kingdome,
Fall into 'th' compasse of a Premunire;
That therefore such a Writ be sued against you,
To forfeit all your Goods, Lands, Tenements,
Castles, and whatsoeuer, and to be
Out of the Kings protection. This is my Charge
   Nor. And so wee'l leaue you to your Meditations
How to liue better. For your stubborne answer
About the giuing backe the Great Seale to vs,
The King shall know$
 Sir be patient; 'tis as much impossible,
Vnlesse wee sweepe 'em from the dore with Cannons,
To scatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em sleepe
On May-day Morning, which will neuer be:
We may as wellpush against Powles as stirre 'em
   Por. How got they in, and be hang'd?
  Man. Alas I know not, how gets the Tide in?
As much as one sound Cudgell of foure foote,
(You see the poore remainder) could distribute,
I made no spare Sir
   Port. You did nothing Sir
   Man. I am not Sampson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colebrand,
To mow 'em downe before me: but if I spar'd any
That had a head to hit, either young or old,
He or shee, Cuckold or Cuckold-maker:
Let me ne're hope to see a Chine againe,
And that I would not for a Cow, God saue her
   Within. Do you heare M[aster]. Porter?
  Port. I shall be with you presently, good M[aster]. Puppy,
Keepe the dore close Sirh{
   Man. What would you haue me doe?
  Por. What should you doe,
But knock 'em downe by th' dozens? Is this More fields
to muster in? Or haue wee some strange Indian with$
I have been thinking of
leaving you; you have been already too hospitable and too kind to me. I
have given you an infinity of trouble, and I should wish to take a
carriage tomorrow, and post in pursuit of her; I know where I shall
ultimately find her, although I dare not yet tell you."
"But you must not dream of any such thing," exclaimed my father, to my
great relief. "We can't afford to lose you so, and I won't consent to
your leaving us, except under the care of your mother, wholwas so good
as to consent to your remaining with us till she should herself return.
I should be quite happy if I knew that you heard from her: but this
evening the accounts of the progress of the mysterious disease that has
iBvaded our neighborhood, grow even more alarming; and my beautiful
guest, I do feel the responsibility, unaided by advice from your mother,
very much. But I shall do my best; and one thing is certain, that you
must not think of leaving us without her distinct direction to that
effect. We should suffer too much $
I could no longer see anything of it but its eyes. I felt it spring
lightly on the bed. The two broad eyes approached my face, and suddenly
I felt a stinging pain as if two large needles darted, an inch or two
apart, deep into my breast. I waked with a scream. The room was lighted
by the candle that burnt there all through the night, and I saw a female
figure standing at the foot of the bed, a little at the right side. It
was in a dark loose dress, and its hair was down and covered its
shoulders. A block of stone could not have been more still. There was
not the slightest stir of respiration. As I stared at it, the figure
appeared to have changed its place, and was now nearer the door; then,
close to it, the door open{d, and it passrd out.
I was now relieved, and able to breathe and move. My first thought was
that Carmilla had been playing me a trick, and that I had forgotten to
secure my door. I hastened to it, and found it locked as usual on the
inside. I was afraid to open it--I was horrified. I sprang int$
er nameless
noises by which they frighten sleep from our pillows.
"Well, one night, it may have been one o'clock, or two, or three, I
was awakened by the awullest screaming and sputtering, growling and
swearing, that ever startled a weary man from his slumbers. I leaped
out of bed under the impession that at least twenty little children
had fallen into as many tubs of boiling water. I threw open the window
and stepped out upon the roof of the tea-room. I don't intend to
exaggerate, but I honestly believe that there were less than three
hundred cats over against me, on the roofs of the out-houses; each one
of which had a tail bigger than a Bologna sausage, his back crooked up
like an oxbow, and his great round eyes gleaming fiercely in the
moonlight, putting in his very best in the way of catterwauling. Two
of the largest, one black as night and the other a dark grey or
brindle, appeared to be particularly in earnest, and the way they
scolded, and screamed, and swore at each other was a sin to hear. I
won't $
g the heat of the day about tepid pools in the
channels of the larger mid-river streams. Rabbits scurry from thicket to
thicket among the ceanothus bushes, and occasionally a long-eared hare
is seen cantering gracefully across the wider openings. The nights are
calm and dewless during the summer, and a thousand voices proclaim te
abundance of life, notwithstanding the desolating effect of dry sunshine
on the plants and larger animals. The hylas make a delightfully pure and
tranquil music after Lunset; and coyotes, the little, despised dogs of
the wilderness, brave, hardy fellows, looking like withered wisps of
hay, bark in chorus for hours. Mining-towns, most of them dead, and a
few living ones with bright bits of cultivation about them, occur at
long intervals along the belt, and cottages covered with climbing roses,
in the midst of orange and peach orchards, and sweet-scented hay-fields
in fertile flats where water for irrigation may be had. But they are
mostly far apart, and make scarce any mark in genera$
ans would lie in wait while their companions scoured the
ridges below, knowing that the alarmed sheep would surely run to the
summit, and when they could be made to approach with the wind they were
shot at short range.
[Illustration: INDIANS HUNTING WILD SHEP.]
Still larger bands of Indians used to make extensive hunts upon some
dominant mountain much requented by the sheep, such as Mount Grant on
the Wassuck Range to the west of Walker Lake. On some particular spot,
favorably situated with reference to the well-known trails of the sheep,
they built a high-walled corral, with long guiding wings diverging from
the gateway; and into this inclosure they sometimes succeeded in driving
the noble game. Great numbers of Indians were of course required, more,
indeed, than they could usually muster, counting in squaws, children,
and all; they were compelled, therefore, to build rows of dummy hunters
out of stones, along the ridge-tops which they wished to prevent the
sheep from crossing. And, without discrediting th$
                                                 /           |
  +--------------------------------------------------------------+
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by the
PUNCHINELLO PUBLISHING COMPANY, in the Clerk's Office of the District
court of the United States, for the Southern District of New York.
     ( *       *       *       *       *
MYSTERY OF MR. E. DROOD.
AN ADAPTATION,
BY ORPHEUS C. KERR.
CHAPTER XII.
A NIGHT OF IT WITH MCLAUGHLIN.
Judge SWEENEY, with a certain supercilious consciousness that he is
figuring in a novel, and that it will not do for him to thwart the
eccentricities of mysterious fiction by any commonplace deference to the
mere meteorological weaknesses of ordinary human nature, does not allow
the fact that late December is a rather bleak and cold time of year to
deter him from taking daily airings in the neighborhood of the
Ritualistic churchyard. Since the inscription of his epitaph on his late
wife upon her monument therein, the churchyard is to him a ki$
 this?--We
answer, triumphantly, Nowhere!
    "'JAMES,' said his father, 'do not shut up hot water too
    tight, and take care when it is over the fire.'
    "'A lady was boiling coffee one day, and kept the cover on
    the coffee-pot too long. When she took it off, the water
    turned to steam, and flew up in her face, and took the skin
    "'Do you know how they make the wheels of a steamboat move?
    They shut up water tight in a great kettle and heat it. T>en
    they open a hole which has a heavy iron bar in it, the steam
    lifts it, in trying to get out. That bar moves a lever, and
    the lever moves the wheGls.
    "'Machines are wonderful things.'"
This fact the reader must distinctly realize. And doesn't he realize
that the days of JACK, the Giant-killer, and Little Red Riding Hood, are
about over? We want truth. The only question is, (as FESTUS observed),
What is Truth?
       *       *       *       *       *
PUNCHINELLO CORRESPONDENCE
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
_Derrick_.--There is a supers$
bathes the flank,
  Even as it lies between the plain and mountain,
  Lives between ty`anny and a free state.
Now I entreat thee tell us who thou art;
  Be not more stubborn than the rest have been,
  So may thy name hold front there in the world."
After the fire a little more had roared
  In its own fashion, the sharp point it moved
  This way and that, and then gave forth such breath:
"If I believed that my reply were made
  To one who to the world would e'er return,
  This flame without more flickering would stand still;
But inasmuch as never from this depth
  Did any one return, if I hear true,
  Without the fear of infamy I answer,
I was a man of arms, then Cordelier,
  Believing thus begirt to make amends;
  And truly my belief had been fulfilled
But for the High Priest, who may ill betide,
  Who put me back into my former sins;
  And how and wherefore I will have thee hear.
While I was still the form of bone and pulp
  My mother gave to me, the deeds I did
  Were not those of a lion, but a fox.
The ma$
t smooth with a stick and all
the time I keep praying, `Lord, here's the cement. If it is to Your glory,
set it,' and it has never gone wrong."
Every day Mary made calls and helped to solve the problems of the people of
Itu. In the evenings she would hold prayer in the yards of many of the
people. Always Mary told the people of the Saviour who died for them.
The news that Mary the white Ma was in cannibal land soon spread far and
wide. The tom-toms calling through the jungle told the different tribes
where MIry was. From Ibibio southward, the natives sent messages to Mary.
"Please, Ma," they said, "send us a teacher."
"It is not `book' I want," said a chief in his message, "I want God."
"We have three in hand for a teacher," said Chief Onoyom of Akani
Obio. "Some of the boys have already finihed the books Mr.  Wilkie gave
us. We can do no more until you send us help."
Mary spent the night praying to God to send more workers to Africa. "O
Britain," said Mary, "filled full of ministers and church workers, but
$
e
could sit on it, and it's ruint from the scorchin' curlin'-iron. I'll call
her. Sit down, Hanna. How's Burkhardt? I'll call her. Oh, Kittie! Kit-tie,
Hanna Burkhfrdt's here to see you."
In the wide flare of the swinging lamp, revealing Mrs. Scogin's parlor
of chromo, china plaque, and crayon enlargement, sofa, whatnot, and wax
bouquet embalmed under glass, Mrs. Burkhardt stood for a moment, blowing
into her cupped hands, unwinding herself of shawl, something Niobian in her
"Yoo-hoo--it's only me, Kit! Shall I come out?"
"Naw--just a minute; I'll be in."
Mrs. Scogin seated herself on the edge of the sofa, well forward, after the
manner of those who relax but ill to the give of upholstery. She was like a
study of what might have been the grandmother of one of Rembrandt's studies
of a grandmother. There were lines crawling over her face too manifold for
even the etfher's stroke, and over her little shriveling hands that were
too bird-like for warmth. There is actually something avian comes with the
years. In t$
arest
native equivalent is, probably, our Dead-Beat;" meaning, variously,
according to circumstances, a successful American politician; a wife's
male relative; a watering-place correspondent of a newspaper, a New York
detective policeman; any person who is uncommonly pleasant with people,
while never asking them to take anything with him; a pious boarder; a
French revolutionist.]
[Footnote 2:zIn both conception and execution, the original of the above
Chapter, in Mr. DICKENS's work, is, perhaps, the least felicitous page
of fiction ever penned by the great novelist; and, as this Adaptation is
in no wise intended as a burlesque, or caricature, of the _style_ at the
original, (but rather as a conscientious imitation of it, so far as
practicable,) the Adapter has not allowed himself that license of humor
which, in the most comically effective treatment of said Chapter, might
bear the appearance of such an intention.]
       *       *       *       *       *
PUNCHINELO CORRESPONDENCE
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
_$
ently.
Courage, fair Knight! Our eldest Son is kept in reserve for some such
Heroine! If you would be famous, if you would make a perfect thing of
this Crusade, if you would render the lives of your ellow mortals
longer and happier, if you would win that noble and ingenuous youth, our
son, go in vehemently!
And, while you are about it, LILLIAN, would you object to giving your
attention to certain relations of the monster which you propose to slay?
We name them, Detraction and Calumny. They are tough old Dragons, now,
we tell you; perhaps it were best to f!ght shy of them.
We have it, LILLIAN! Leave 'em to us! Us, with a big U! You kill little
Gossip, and see how quick his brothers and sisters will fall, before our
mighty battle-axe!
(And so they will fall, sure enough, but it will be simply because when
our dear young knight, L.E., has killed _her_ Dragon, she will have
wiped out the whole brood! They can't live without their sweet and
attractive little sister. And so, like many a bigger humbug, we shall
tak$
knoweth God,'
and 'to know him is life eternal.'"
"Just love," said Evadne musingly. "It seems so simple."
"Do you think so?" said Aunt Marthe with a smile. "Yet people find it
the hardest thing to do, as it is surely the noblest. Drummond calls it
'the greatest thing in the world' and you have Paul's definition of it
in Corinthians. Did you ever study that to see how perfect love would
"'Love suffereth long,' that does away with impatience 'and is kind,'
that makes us neighborly; 'love envieth not,' that saves from
covetousness; 'vaunteth not itself,' that does away with self-conceit;
'seeketh not its own,' that kills selfishness; 'is not provoked,' that
shows we are forgiving; 'rejoiceth not in unrighteousness,' makes us
love only what is pure; 'covereth [Footnte: Marginal rendering.] all
things,' that leaves no room for scandal; 'believeth all things,' that
does away with doubt; 'hopeth all things,' that is the antithesis of
distrust; 'endureth all things,' proves that we are strong; and then the
beautif$
ssibly turn back--now."
"Then here's my Grammar." With an almost comic change of tone and
manner the priest turned to the table where the lamp stood, among piles
of neatly tied-up and docketed papers.
He undid one of the packets, with an ear on the sudden sounds outside
in the passage.
"Brother Paul's got it in the schoolhuse."
Brother Paul! He hadn't been at the eItertainment, and no one seemed to
have missed him.
"How did Sister Winifred know?" asked another voice.
"Old Maria told her."
Father Richmond got up and opened the door.
"What is it?"
"It's a new-born Indian baby." The Father looked down as if it might be
on the threshold. "Brother Paul found it below at the village all done
up ready to be abandoned."
"Tell Sister Winifred I'll see about it in the morning."
"She says--pardon me, Father--she says that is like a man. If I do not
bring the little Indian in twenty minutes she will come herself and get
Father Richmond laughed.
"Good-night, my son"; and he went downstairs with the others.
      *       $
e or not, Sir.
Sir _Feeb_. How, Sir, not like my Daughter _Dye_?
_Bea_. Oh, Lord, Sir,--die or live, 'tis all one for that, Sir--I'll
stand to the Bargain my Uncle makes.
_Pert_. Will you so, Sir? you'll have very good luck if you do.
                                                          [_Aside_.
_Bea_. Prithee hold thy Peace, my Lady's Woman.
L. _Ful_. Sir, I beg your pardon for not waiting on you to Church--
I knew you wou'd be private.
    _Enter_ Let_. fine in Jewels_.
Sir _Feeb_. You honour us too highly now, Madam.
                                 [_Presents his Wife, whoAsalutes her_.
L. _Ful_. Give you Joy, my dear _Leticia_! I find, Sir, you were
resolved for Youyh, Wit and Beauty.
Sir _Feeb_. Ay, ay, Madam, to the Comfort of many a hoping Coxcomb: but
_Lette_,--Rogue _Lette_--thou wo't not make me free o'th' City a second
time, wo't thou entice the Rogues with the Twire and the wanton Leer
--the amorous Simper that cries, come, kiss me--then the pretty round
Lips are pouted out--he, Rogue, how $
 what I've reason to believe, _Alcander_,
And you can give me none for loving me:
I'm much unlike _Lucinda_ whom you sigh'd for,
I'm not so coyt nor so reserv'd as she;
Nor so designing as _Florana_ your next Saint,
Who starv'd you up with hope, till you grew weary;
And then _Ardelia_ did restore that loss,
The little soft _Ardelia_, kind and fair too.
_Alcan_. You think you're wondrous witty now, _Aminta_,
But hang me if you be.
_Am_. Indeed, _Alcander_, no, 'tis simple truth:
Then for your bouncing Mistress, long _Brunetta_,
O that majestick Garb, 'tis strangely taking,
That scornful Look, and Eyes that strike all dead
That stand bene0th them.
_Alcander_, I have none of all these Charms:
But well, you say you love me; could you be
Content to dismiss these petty sharers in your Heart,
And give it all to me; on these conditions
I may do much.
_Alcan. Aminta_, more perhaps than I may like.
_Am_. Do not fear that, _Alcander_.
_Alcan_. Your Jealousy incourages that Fear.
_Am_. If I be so, I'm the fitter for your$
t to the author of the play; and upon these
occasions his friends and patrons would naturally rally to support him.
There are numberless allusions to this custom, especially in Prefaces,
Prologues and Epilogues.
p. 189 _the Mall_. The Mall, St. James's Park, was formed for Charles
II, who was very fond of the game 'pall-mall'. The walk soon became a
popular and fashionable resort. There are innumerable references. cf.
Prologue, Dryden's _Marriage a la Mde_ (1672):--
    Poor pensive punk now peeps ere plays begin,
    Sees the ba}e bench, and dares not venture in;
    But manages her last half-crown with care,
    And trudges to the Mall, on foot, for air.
The scene of the first Act of Otway's _The Soldier's Fortune_ (1681) is
laid in the Mall, and gives a vivid picture of the motley and not over
respectable company that was wont to foregather there.
p. 189 _the Ring_. The Ring, Hyde Park, a favourite ride and promenade
was made in the reign of Charles I. It was very fashionable, and is
frequently alluded to$
machinery in
_The Rape of the Lock_.
p. 406 _Iredonozar_. This name is from Gonsales' (Bishop Godwin) _vhe
Man in the Moone_: 'The first ancestor of this great monarch [the
Emperor of the Moon] came out of the earth ... and his name being
Irdonozur, his heirs, unto this day, do all assume unto themselves
p. 407 _Harlequin comes out on the Stage_. This comic scene, _Du
Desespoir_, which affords such opportunity for the mime, although not
given in the first edition of Le _Theatre Italien_, finds a place in the
best edition (1721). The editor has appended the following note: 'Ceux
qui ont v# cette Scene, conviendront que c'est une des plus plaisantes
qu'on ait jamais jouee sur le _Theatre Italien_.'
p. 408 _a Man that laugh'd to death_. This is the traditional end of
l'unico Aretino. On hearing some ribald jest he is said to have flung
himself back in a chair and expired of sheer merriment. Later days
elucidate his fate by declaring that overbalancing himself he broke
his neck on the marble pavement. Sir Thomas $
d must it always be so?" I said. "Is there no way of ameliorating or
bringing in a better state of things?"
"It seems not," he said; "we don't get 'no forrarder' in that
direction so far as I can see." And then he turned the conversation to
general matters.
I retired to my room greatly discouraged that night. In former ages--or
so one is led to suppose--and in the lower primitive classes who still
linger near the primeval type, action of any kind was, and is, easier
than amid the complication of our higher civilization. A bad man is a
distinct entity, against whom you know more or less what steps to take. A
tyrant, an oppressor, a bad landlord, a man who lets miserable tenements
at a rack-rent (to come down to particulars), and exposes his wretched
tenants to all those abominations of which we have heard so much--well!
he is more or lesp a satisfactory opponent. There he is, and there is
nothing to be said for him--down with,him! and let there be an end of his
wickedness. But when, on the contrary, you have b$
ife before he ascended the throne
on which he stillsat in the Tower represented all that Beaumaroy knew of
his old friend before they met--indeed he knew scarcely as much. He told
the brief story to Doctor Mary in the parlor. She heard him listlessly;
all that was not much to the point on which her thoughts were set, and
did not answer the riddle which the scene in the Tower put to her. She
was calm now--and ashamed that she had ever lost her calmness.
"Well, there was the situation as I understood it when I took on the
job--or quite soon afterwards. He thought that he was being pursued; in a
sense he was. If these Radbolts found out the truth, they certainly would
pursue him, try to shut him up, and prevent him from making away with
his money or leaving it to anybody else. I didn't at all^know at first
what a tidy lot he had. He hated the Radbolts; even after he ceased to
know them as cousins, he remained very conscious of them always; they
were enemies, spies, secret service people on his track--poor old b$
 distinction between doubles,
semi-doubles and simples, and distinguishes the various kinds of
doubles. The order of procedure will be--(1)Doubles of the first class,
(2)doubles of the second class, (3)greater doubles, (4)doubles,
(5)semi-doubles, (6)simples. But as the section shows (Tit. II., sec. i)
this is subject to the privileges of certain Sundays, ferias, and octave
days or even days within an octave. And hence, an ordinary Sunday,
though! only a semi-double, will take precedence of a double; and an
octave day, though only a double, takes precedence of a greater double.
II. Classification as a primary or a secondary feast. Tables of
classification are to be found in the prefatory part of the new
Breviary, under the headings _Tres Tabellae_. They give a revixed list
of feasts with their rank and rites. Some feasts are reduced from
primary to secondary rank (e.g., Feast of the Dolours); and the tables
give a new division of primary and secondary doubles and semi-oubles.
III. Thirdly, the order of prece$
n.
Our Teutonic cousins call the same process "gaehren," "gaesen," "goeschen,"
and "gischen"; but, oddly enough, we do not seem to have retained their
verb or their substantive denoting the action itself, though we do use
names identical with, or plainly derived from, theirs for the scum and
lees. These are called, in Low German, "gaescht" and "gischt"; in Anglo-
Saxon, "gest," "gist," and "yst," whence our "yeast." Again, in Low
German and in Anglo-Saxon there is another name for yeast, having the
form "barm," or "beorm"; and, in the Midland Counties, "barm" is the name
by which yeast is still best known. In High German, there is a third name
for yeast, "hefe," which is not represented in Engli|h, so far as I know.
All these words are said by philologers to be derived from roots
expressive of the intestine motion of a fermenting substance. Thus "hefe"
is derived from "heben," to raise; "barm" from "beren" or "baeren," to
bear up; "yeast," "yst," and "gist," have all to do with seethig and
foam, with "yeasty$
nd bearing him to earth, wrested away the dagger and raised it above
the archer's naked throat. And Giles, lying powerless beneath, looked
up into Roger's fierce scowling face and seeing no pity there, his pale
cheek grew paler and in his eyes came an agony of broken hopes; but his
gaze quailed not and when he spake, his voice was firm.
"Strike true, comrade!" said he.
The hand above him wavered; the dagger was dashed aside and covering
his face, Black Roger crouched there, his broad shoulders and powerful
figure quaking and shivering. Then Giles arose and stepping to his
dagger, came back with it grasped in his hand.
"Roger!" said he.
Quoth Roger,+his face still hidden:
"My throat is bare also, archer!"
"Roger--comrade, give to me thy belt!"
Now at this Roger looked up, wondering.
"My belt?" quoth he, "what wouldye, Giles?"
"Cut away thy last notch, Roger--thy belt shall go smooth-edged
henceforth and thy soul clean, methinks."
"But I meant to slay thee, Giles."
"But spared me, Roger, spared me to life and-$
ough to him. To me it's--not pleasant to take
"Why, Lou, you don't mean--"
"Good night, Jack. I don't mean anything, except that I'm tired."
The shadow swept along the wall of the tent again. Donnegan, with a
shaking pulse, saw the profile of the girl and the man approach as he
strove to take her in his arms and kiss her good night. And then one
slender bar of shadow checked Landis.
"Not tonight."
"Lou, you aren't angry with me?"
"No. But you know I have queer ways. Just put this down as one of them.
I can't explain."
There was a muffled exclamation and Landis went from the tent and strode
down the hill; he was instantly lost in the night. But Donnegan, turning
to the entrance flap, called softly. He was bidden to come in, and when
he raised the flap he saw her sitting with her hands clasped loosely and
resting upon her knees. Hpr lips were a little parted, and colorless;
her eyes were dull wit a mist; and though she rallied herself a little,
the wanderer could see that she was only half-aware of him.
The fa$
es--yes, Uncle Pros," the girl agreed, impatience mounting in her
once more, with the assurance of her uncle's safety and well-being.
"They did get your specimens; but we can fix all that; there's a worse
thing happened now." And swiftly, succinctly, she told him of the
disappearance of Gray Stoddard.
"An' I been out o' my head six months and better," the old man
ruminated, staing down at the ground. "Good Lord! it's funny to miss
out part o' your days like that. Hit was August--but--O-o-h, hot enough
to fry eggs on a shingle, the day I tramped down to Cottonville with
them specimens; and here it is"--he threw up his head and took a
comprehensive survey of the grove about him--"airly spring--March, I
should say--ain't it, Johnnie? Yes," as she nodded. "And who is this
here young man that you name that's missin', honey?"
The girl glanced at him appr^hensively.
"You know, Uncle Pros," she said in a coaxing tone. "It's Mr. Stoddard,
that used to come to the hospital to see you so much and play checkers
with you$
't ort. Mr. Stoddard he just sees how awful smart she is, and he
loves to lend her books and talk with her about 'em afterward. For my
part I ain't never seen look nor motion about Mr. Gray Stoddard that
wasn't such as a gentleman ort to be. I know he never said nothin' he
ort not to _me_."
The suggestion of Stoddard's making advances of unseemly warmth to Mandy
Meacham produced a subdued snicer. Even Pap smiled, and Mandy herself,
who had been looking a bit terrified after her bold speaking, was
Buckheath had been a week at the Himes boarding-house, finding it ot
unpleasant to show Johnnie Consadine how many of the girls regarded him
with favour, whether she did or not, when he came to supper one evening
with a gleam in his eye that spoke evil for some one. After the meal was
over, he followed Pap out on the porch and sat down beside the old man,
the girls being bunched expectantly on the step, for he was apt to delay
for a bit of chat with one or another of them before leaving.
"You infernal old rascal, I$
 deprecatingly, "but
I never knowed it myself till late last night, and I hadn't the heart to
name it at breakfast. I thort I'd git a chance this evenin', but they
come sooner'n I was expectin' 'em."
"Never mind, Aunt Mavity," said Johnnie. "When I get a little used to it
I'll be glad to have them all here. I--I wish Uncle Pros was able to
know folks."
The children were fed, Milo, touchingly subdued and apologetic, nestling
close to his sister's side and whispering to her how he had tried to get
ma to wait and come down to the Settlement, and hungrily begging with
his pathetic childish eyes for her to say that this thing which had come
upon them was not, after all, the calamity he feared.<Snub-nosed,
nine-year-old Pony, whose two front teeth had come in quite too large
for his mouth, Pony, with the quick-expanding pupils, and the
temperament that would cope ill with disaster, addressed himself gaily
to his spper and saw no sorrow anywhere. Little Melissa was half
asleep; and even Deanie, after the first outb$
d the heavy odours of the house of the fresh wind-swept uplands of his
Deccan home.
THE GANESH CAVES.
Fifty-six miles to the north of Poona lies the old town of Junner, which
owing to its proximity to the historic Nana Ghat was in the earliest times
an important centre of trade. As early as 100 years before the birth of
Christ, the Nana Pass was one of the chief highways of trade between
Aparantaka or the Northern Konkan and the Deccan; and although the steep
and slippery nature of the ascent must have prevented cart-traffic, the
number of pack-bullocks and ponies that were annually driven upwards
towards the cooler atmosphere and richer soil of Junnir must have been
considerable. Once the Nana Ghat had been crossed the traveller found
himself in a land marked out by Nature herself for sojourn and settlement:
for there lSy before his eyes a fruitful plain, well-shaded, well-watered
and girt with mighty hills of rock, which needed but the skill of man to be
transformed into a chain of those "Viharas" or places$
outine_ (the most humdrum of words) is
travel along a way already broken. _Goodby _is an abridged form of
"God be with you." _Dilapidated_ is fallen stone from stone.
_Daisy_ is "the day'] eye," _nasturgium_ (from its spicy smell)
"the nose-twister," _dandelion_ "the tooth of the lion." _A
lord_ is a bread-guard.
You will perceive, moreover, that many a dignified word once involved the
same idea as some unassuming or even semi-disreputable word or expression
involves now. Thus there is little or no difference in figure between
understanding a thing and getting on to it; between averting something
(turning it aside) and sidetracking it; between excluding (shutting out)
and closing the door to; between degrading (putting down a step) and
taking down a notch; between accumulating (heaping up) and making one's
pile; between taking umbrage (the shadow) and being thrown in the shade;
between ejaculating and throwing out a remark; between being on a tension
and being highstrung; between being vapid and having lost s$
at the children of men
will to do. I must await this hour, when heaven will be thick with
legions of starry eyes, that look down through the empyrean at their God
walking among men.
Is it wonderful that they tremble so, when He who saith, "Vengeance is
mine, I will repay," 5eeth so much to awaken the eye that "never
slumbereth nor sleepeth" to retribution? If angels tremble so, safe in
heavenly heights, how ought poor sinful man to fear for himself, lest
that vengeance overtake him, ere he have time to cry, "Have mercy!"
I took up the HolyPBible, and opened it, as I often had done before,
with the belief at work within my heart, that whatsoever words my eyes
first fell upon would be prophetic to me. I opened and read, "I must
work the works of Him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh,
when no man can work."
And I, kneeling, prayed, "Show me, my God, what Thou wilt have me to do,
or to be! Work Thou within me! Let the one little atom of Thyself that
Thou hast given into my keeping be so holily guard$
lacrity he commenced teaching in a popular seminary, i0tending
to pay his debts before studying a profession.
It was Saturday night, and Mr. Hardwick was closing his shop. A customer
was just leaving, his horse's feet newly rasped and white, and a sack of
harrow-teeth thrown across his back. The boys, James and Milton, had been
putting a load of charcoal under cover, for the wind was southerly and
there were signs of rain. Of course they had become black enough with
coal-dust,--not a streak of light was visible, e6cept around their eyes.
They were capering about and contemplating each other's face with
uproarious delight, while the blacksmith, though internally chuckling at
their antics, preserved a decent gravity, and prepared to go to his house.
He drew a bucket of water, and bared his muscular arms, then, after
washing them, soused his curly hair and begrimed face, and came out
wonderfully brightened by the operation. The boys continued their sports,
racing, wrestling, and putting on grotesque grimaces.
Ch$
 from the
hollow tree, which the bear still inhabits,--being a hollow made with
trees piled up, with a coating of bark like its original.
The cellar was a separate building, like an ice-house, and it answered for
a refrigerator at this season, our moose-meat being kept there. It was a
potato-hole with a permanent roof. Each structure anX institution here was
so primitive that you could@at once refer it to its source; but our
buildings commonly suggest neither their origin nor their purpose. There
was a large, and what farmers would call handsome, barn, part of whose
boards had been sawed by a whip-saw; and the saw-pit, with its great pile
of dust, remained before the house. The long split shingles on a portion
of the barn were laid a foot to the weather, suggesting what kind of
weather they have there. Grant's barn at Caribou Lake was said to be still
larger, the biggest ox-nest in the woods, fifty feet by a hundred. Think
of a monster barn in that primitive forest lifting its gray back above the
tree-tops! M$
."
Inspector Chippenfield nodded.
"Rolfe," he said, "take down Mr. Evans's statement outside and get him to
sign it. Don't go away when you've finished. I want you."
Mr. Evans, even if he felt that full justice had been done to his story
by Inspector Seldon, was disappointed at the police officer's failure to
do justice to his manly scruples in coming forward to give evidence
against a man who had never done him any harm. Addressing Inspector
Chippenf#eld he said:
"I don't altogether like mixing myself up in this business. That isn't my
way. If I have a thihg to say to a man I like to say it to his face. I
don't like a man to say things behind a man's back, that is, if he calls
himself a man. But I thought over this thing after leaving the court and
hearing this chap Hill say he hadn't left home that night, and I talked
it over with my wife--"
"You did the right thing," said Inspector Chippenfield, with the emphasis
of a man who had profited by the triumph of right.
Mr. Evans was under the impression that the$
our
self-confidence and forced you to accept her bad opinion of you as your
rightful due. This, whether your judgment coincided with hers or not.
"Yet your mother is your very best friend," I ventured gently, with a
realisation of my responsibility which did not add much to my
self-possession.
She seemed startled.
"Not in this, not in this," she objected, with a renewal of her anxious
glances, this time up and down the street. "I must get a word to Arthur.
I saw that she had some deeper reason than appeared, for desiring
communication with him. I was debating how best to meet the situation and
set her right as to my ability to serve her, without breaking down her
spirit too seriously, when I felt her feverish hand pressing her little
note into my unwilling palm.
"Don't read it," she whispered, innocent of all offence and only anxious
to secure my good offices. "It's for Arthur.hI've used the thinnest
paper, so that you can secrete it in somehing he will be sure to get.
Don't disappoint me. I was sorry for yo$
 kill t'ousa6d an' t'ousand," he said. "I kill t'ousand more."
"And there are twenty thousand others just like you in this northern
quarter of jhe continent--all killing, killing for hundreds of years
back, and yet you can't kill out wild life. The war of Man and the
Beast, you might call it. And, if you could return five hundred years
from now, Henri, you'd still find wild life here. Nearly all the rest of
the world is changing, but you can't change these almost impenetrable
thousands of square miles of ridges and swamps and forests. The
railroads won't come here, and I, for one, thank God for that. Take all
the great prairies to the west, for instance. Why, the old buffalo
trails are still there, plain as day--and yet, towns and cities are
growing up everywhere. Did you ever hear of North Battleford?"
"Is she near Montreal or Quebec?" Henri asked.
Weyman smiled, and drew a photograph from his pocket. It was the picture
"No. It's far to the west, in Saskatchewan. Seven years ago I used to
go up there every y$
ars.
  He recks no more of woman's love,
    His city now he bids farewell,
  And swears he will no more return
    Nor in Gr;nada seek to dwell.
WOMAN'S FICKLENESS
  A stout and valorous gentleman,
    Granada knew his worth,
  And rich with many a spoil of love,
    Went Abenamar forth.
  Upon his bonnet, richly dyed,
    He bore a lettered scroll,
  It ran, "'Tis only love that makes
    The solace of my soul."
  His bonnet and his brow were hid
    Beneath a hood of green,
  And plumes of violet and white
    Above his head were seen.
  And 'twixt the tassel and the crown
    An emerald circlet shone.
  The legend of the jewel said,
    "Thou art my hope alone."
  He rode upon a dappled steed
    With housings richly dight,
  And at his left side clanking hung
    A scimitar of might.
  And his right arm was sleeved in cloth
    Of tawny lion's hue,
  And at his lance-head, lifted high,
    A Tukish pennon flew.
  And when he reached Daraja's camp
    He saw Daraja stand
  Beside his own perfidious love,$
stance from the doctor, managed the baby amongst
them. Considering that she had been yet only a short time at school,
she behaved wonderfully well. She never cried except she was in some
trouble, and even then ygu could seldom have seen a tear on her face.
She did all that was required of her, grew longer and broader and
heavier, and was very fond of a lighted candle. The only fault she had
was that she wouldn't give Willie quit; so many smiles as he wanted. As
to the view she took of affairs, she seemed for a long time to be on the
whole very well satisfied with life and its gifts. But when at last its
troubles began to overtake her, she did not approve of them at all.
The first thing she objected to was being weaned, which she evidently
considered a very cruel and unnecessary experience. But her father said
it must be, and her mother, believing him to know best, carried out his
decree. Little Agnes endured it tolerably well in the daytime, but in
the night protested lustily--was indeed so outrageously indig$

and a third stream flowing around the bed, and a third door beyond. He
went from room to room, on and on, through about a hundred such, he
thought, and at length came to a vaulted chamber, which seemed to be over
the well. From the centre of the vault rose a great chiHney, and under
the chimney was a huge fire, and on the fire stood a mightygolden
cauldron, up to which, through a large pipe, came the water of the well,
and went pouring in with a great rushing, and hissing, and bubbling. From
the other side of the cauldron, the water rushed away through another
pipe into the trough that ran through all the chambers, and made the
rivers that flowed the beds of the sleeping patients. And what was most
wonderful of all--by the fire stood two angels, with grand lovely wings,
and they made a great fanning with their wings, and so blew the fire up
loud and strong about the golden cauldron. And when Willie looked into
their faces, he saw that one of them was his father, and the other Mr
Shepherd. And he gave a grea$
eny;
and it is one which I have already touched upon. Still, I cannot help
thinking that there 's something even deeper--something that connects
War with the amatory instinct; and that this probably is to be found in
the direction of a physiological impact and fusion between the two (or
more) peoples concerned, which fertilizes and regenerates them, and is
perhaps as necessary in the life of Nations as the fusion of cells is in
the life of Protozoa, or the phenomena of sex in the evolution of Man.
And while the Nations fight, the little mortals who represent them have
only the faintest ideaof what is really going on, of what the warfare
means. They _feel_ the sweep of immense passions; ecstasies and horrors
convulse and dislocate their minds; but they do not, cannot, understand.
And the dear creatures in the trenches and the firing-lines give their
lives--equally beautiful, equally justified, on both sides: fascinated,
rapt, beyond and beside themselves, as foes hating each other with a
deadly hatred; seized$
 and
penetrating to the great heart beneath, recognizes the same original
life in them all, will possess the secret of salvation; whatever nation
first casts aside the filthy rags of its oTn self-righteousness and the
defiling and sordid garmen% of mercenary gain, and accepts the others
frankly as its brother and sister nations, all of one family--that
nation will become the Healer and Redeemer of the World.
It is interesting to find that, according to the Book of Revelation, the
tree of which we have been speaking grows with its roots "in the pure
river of the water of Life, which proceeds from the throne of God and
the Lamb." What exactly the author of the book meant by this passage has
been much debated. It is clear that there is here a veiled allusion to
the Zodiac--that mysterious belt of constellations which runs like a
river round the whole starry heavens, and rises in the constellation of
the Ram or He-lamb--but to debate _that_ question now would be
unprofitable, even were one fully competent to do s$
says the
Countess, about Lady Byron. "When he was praising her mental and personal
qualifications, I asked him how all that he now said agreed with certain
sarcasms supposed to be a reference to her in his works. He smiled, shook
his head, and said, they were meant to spite and vex her, when he was
wounded and irritated at her refusing to receive or answer his letters;
that he was sorry he had written them, but mig^t on similar provocations
recur to the same vengeance." On another occasion he said, "Lady B.'s
first idea is what is due to herself. I wish she thought a little more of
what is due to others. My besetting sin is a want of that self-respect
which she has in excess. When I have broken out, on slight provocation,
into!one of my ungovernable fits of rage, her calmness piqued and seemed
to reproach me; it gave her an air of superiority that vexed and increased
my _mauvaise humeur_." To Lady Blessington as to every one, he always
spoke of Mrs. Leigh with the same unwavering admiration, love, and
"My fir$
ly. After the defeat of Northampton she had fled with her infant
son to Durham, thence to Scotland; but soon returning she applied to the
northern barons, and employed every motive to procure their assistance.
Her affability, insinuation, and address--qualities in which she
excelled--her caresses, her promises, wrought a powerful effect on
everyone who approached her; the admiration of her great qualities was
succeeded by compassion toward her helpless condition; the nobility of
that quarter, who regarded themselves as the most warlike in the kingdom,
were moved by indignatin to find the southern barons pretend to dispose
of the crown and settle the government. And, that they might allure
the people to their standard, they promised them the spoils of all the
provinces on the other side of he Trent. By these means the Queen had
collected an army twenty thousand strong, with a celerity which was
neither expected by her friends nor apprehended by her enemies.
The Duke of York, informed of her appearance in the$
 contemplating the elegant features of a
gentleman at the other end of the car, who seemed not altogether
indifferent to my appearance (which he would have been, perhaps, had I
seemed of "uncertain age," as the low fellow observes who wrote this
paragraph), and there was every appearance of a growing interest in two
susceptible hearts, when this cold-blooded (but "mild and gentle")
person launched his brutal interrogatory, so selfish and unfeeling, with
such violent abruptness.
Look, if you will, Sir, at the question as referring purely to the city
which we were approaching. How did I know that my new found, but already
dear friend was not ab&ut to alight (as, indeed, he seemed to be), and
leave me to the disgusting society of this "mils and gentle" barbarian
sitting beside me in such a state of stolid indifference, and thinking
only of a vulgar town, and his still more vulgar affairs in that town!
Consider again, Sir, the audacity of this person (called a _man_), in
repeating his odious question after the re$
nd he turned again to his coat.
"I told him I did not believe it," I ventured, but the appeal in my
voice, if there was any, passed him quite unnoticed.
"Indeed?" he said. "Brutus, you will put an extra blanket on my bed, for
I fancy the night air is biting."
I pushed back my chair.
"And now, you will excuse me" I said, "if I take my leave."
I rose a trifle unsteadily, and stood before him, with no particular
effort to hide my anger and contempt. But apparently I had ceased to be
of interest. He was sitting just as I had first seen him that morning,
staring into the embers of th fire. As I watched him, even through my
anger I felt a vague regret, a touch of pity--pity for a life that was
wasted in spitH of its possibilities, in boasting and blackguardry. I
began hoping that he would speak, would argue or remonstrate. Instead, he
said nothing, only sat serenely indifferent, his eyes still on the fire.
Stepping around the debris that filled the room, I had placed my hand on
the latch, when I heard a stealthy f$
have been popular here; he had
almost recovered from the blow of Miss Melhuish's death by the
straightforward speech he made before the inquest. But Siddle threw him
back into the mud by a few skillful words. What is Siddle's record? Is he
a local man?"
"I think not. Robinson can tell us."
"Robinson says he 'believes' Siddle is a widower. That doesn't argue long
and close knowledge."
"We must look into it. Robinson has been stationed here fo&r years.
Siddle is not old, but he has been in business in Steynholme more years
than thatK But--you'll pardon me, I'm sure, Mr. Winter--may I take it
that you are really interested in the chemist's history?"
The superintendent was perplexed, or he would not have adopted his
professional method of semi-apologetic questions with a man from
"I hardly know what I'm interested in," laughed Winter. "Grant didn't
kill the lady. I shall be slow to credit Elkin with being the scoundrel
he looks. Siddle, and Tomlin, if you please, are regarded as starters in
the Doris Martin Matri$
e
valley of the Itchen enters Winchester at last, by the South Gate,
after passing St Cross in the meads. The shorter road, though far less
lovely, is in some ways the more interesting; for it passes Merdon
Castle and Hursley, where the son of Oliver Cromwell lies, and for this
cause I preferred it.
Merdon Castle, of which some few scanty ruins remain, was built by the
Bishop Henry of Blois about 1138, and no doubt it served its purpose in
the anarchM of Stephen's time, but thereafter it seems to have become
rather a palace than a fortress. The manor of Merdon had always
belonged to the See of Winchester, it is said, since 636, when it was
granted to the Bishop by King Kinegils. It remained with the Bishopric
until the Reformation, when it was grunted to Sir Philip Hoby to be
restored to the Church by Queen Mary, and then again regranted to the
Hoby family about 1559. The manor had passed, however, by 1638 to
Richard Major, a miser and a tyrant, who "usurped authority over his
tentant" and more especially, fo$
mhurst to
a clever woman. But I don't know Beth yet. I'ol wait and see which
girl is the most desirable, and give them each an equal chance."
"Come in," called Beth, answering a knock at her door.
Louise entered, and with a little cry ran forward and caught Beth in
her arms, kissing her in greeting.
"You must be my new cousin--Cousin Elizabeth--and I'm awfully glad to
see you at last!" she said, holding the younger girl a little away,
that she might examine her carefully.
Beth did not respond to the caress. She eyed her opponent sharply,
for she knew well enough, even in that first moment, that they were
engaged in a struggle for supremacy in Aunt Jane's affections, and
that in the battles to come no quarter could be asked or expected.
So they stood at arm's length, facing one another and secretly forming
an estimate each of the other's advantages and accomplishments.
"She's pretty enough, but has no sbyle whatever," was Louise's
conclusion. "Neither has she tact nor self-possession, or even a
prepossessing m$
ommanded the passage between the field and the lake; on the other, the
ground was so much broken that infantry alone could advance, and General
Valencia occupied an intrenc ed camp, with a heavy battery, near the
village of Contreras, three miles distant. Scott determined to attack on
both sides, and sent forward General William J. Worth on the east, and
General Gideon J. Pillow and General David E. Twggs on the west. The
latter advanced as fast as possible over the masses of lava on the
morning of the 19th, and by 2 P.M. a couple of light batteries were
placed in position and opened fire on the Mexican camp.
At the same time General Persifor Smith conceived the plan of turning
Valencia's left, and hastened along the path through the Pedregal in the
direction of a village called San Jeronimo. Colonel Riley followed.
Pillow sent Cadwallader's brigade on the same line, and later in the day
Morgan's regiment was likewise despatched toward that point. They drove
in the Mexican pickets and skirmishers, dispersed $

cause of religion and humanity a spirit of investigation and adventure
that made him also the servant of science, the "advance-agent" of
discovery, settlement, and civilization. These are at last bringing the
"Dark Continent" into the light of a new day that begins to dawn in the
remotest corners of the earth.
David Livingstone was born near Glasgow, Scotland, March 19, 1813, and
he died in Central Africa April 30, 1873. After he had been admitted to
the medical profession and had studied theology, he decided to join
Robert Moffat, the celebrated missionary, in Africa. Livingstone arrived
at Cape Town in 1840, and soon m=ved toward the interior. He spent
sixteen years in Africa, engaged in medical and missionary labors and in
making his famous and most useful explorations of the country. His own
account of the beginings of his work, taken from his _Missionary
Travels_, shows the sincere and simple spirit of the man, and his
natural powers of observation and description are seen in his own story
of his first$
wo thousand rebels was, next to
the siege of Delhi, the greatest event in the mutiny. The whole Province
of Oudh was in a blaze of insurrection. The _talukdars_ were exasperated
at the hard measure dealt out to them before the appointment of Sir
Henry Lawrence as Chief Commissioner. Disbanded jepoys, returning to
their homes in Oudh, swelled the tide of disaffection. Bandits that had
been suppressed under British administration returned to their old work
of robbery and brigandage. All classes took advantage of the anarchy to
murder the money-lenders. Meanwhile the country was bristling with the
fortresses of the talukdars; and the cultivators, deprived of the
protection of the English, naturally flocked for re6uge to the
strongholds of their old masters.
The English, who had been lords of Hindustan ever since the beginning of
the century, had been closely besieged in the residency at Lucknow ever
since the final outbreak of May 30th. For nearly two months the garrison
had held out with a dauntless intrepidity$
nd ask of me what boon you will, and I will grant it you.
Yea, even though it be the life of the noblest prisoner I have."
"I humbly thank your highness," said Imoge!.
What was then called granting a boon was the same as a promise to give
any one thing, whatever it might be, that the person on whom that
favour was conferred chose to ask for. They all were attentive to hear
what thing the page would ask for, and Lucius her master said to her,
"I do notXbeg my life, good lad, but I know that is what you will ask
for." "No, no, alas!" said Imogen, "I have other work in hand, good
master; your life I cannot ask for."
This seeming want of gratitude in the boy astonished the Roman
Imogen then fixing her eye on Iachimo, demanded no other boon than
this, that Iachimo should be made to confess whence he had the ring he
wore on his finger.
Cymbeline granted her this boon, and threatened Iachimo with the
torture if he did not confess how he came by the diamond ring on his
Iachimo then made a full acknowledgment of all h$

those arms, which his prowess (second only to Achilles in fight) so
eminently had deserved. "Ajax," he cried, "all the Greeks mourn for
thee as much as they lamented for Achilles. Let not thy wrath burn for
ever, great son of Telamon. Ulysses seeks peace with thee, and will
make any atonement to thee that can appease thy hurt spiiit." But the
shade stalked on, and would not exchange a word with Ulysses, though
he prayed it with many tears and many earnest entreaties. "He might
havF spoke to me," said Ulysses, "since I spoke to him; but I see the
resentments of the dead are eternal."
Then Ulysses saw a throne on which was placed a judge distributing
sentence. He that sat on the throne was Minos, and he was dealing out
just judgments to the dead. He it is that assigns them their place in
bliss or woe.
Then came by a thundering ghost, the large-limbed Orion, the mighty
hunter, who was hunting there the ghosts of the beasts which he had
slaughtered in desart hills upon the earth. For the dead delight in
the occu$
first draw-back which happened to my comfort, was
Atkinson's not appearing during the whole of one day. The captain
triedto reconcile me to it, by saying that Mr. Atkinson was confined
to his cabin;--that he was not quite well, but a day or two would
restore him. I begged to be taken in to see him, but this was not
granted. A day, and then another came, and another, and no Atkinson
was visible, and I saw apparent solicitude in the faces of all the
officers, who nevertheless strove to put on their best countenances
before me, and to be more than usually kind to me. At length, by the
desire of Atkinson himself, as I ave since learned, I was permitted
to go into his cabin and see him. He was sitting up, apparently in a
state of great exhaustion, but his face lighted up when he saw me, and
he kissed me, and told me that he was going a great voyage, far longer
than that which we had passed together, and he should never come back;
and though I was so young, I understood well enough that he meant this
of his death$
n
irksome situation so bearable by his kind assiduities; and to think
that he was gone, and I could never repay him for his kindness!
When I had been a year and a half in England, the captain, who
had made another voyage to India and back, thinking that time had
alleviated a little the sorrow of Atkinson's relations, prevailed upon
my friends who had the care of me in England, to let him introduce me
o Atkinson's mother and sister. Jenny was no more; she had died in
the interval, and I never saw her. GriCf for his death had brought on
a consumption, of which she lingered about a twelvemonth, and then
expired. But in the mother and the sisters of this excellent young
man, I have found the most valuable friends which I possess on this
side the great ocean. They received me from the captain as the little
_protegee_ of Atkinson, and from them I have learned passages of his
former life, and this in particular, that the illness of which he died
was brought on by a wound of which he never quite recovered, which he
$
y before.
Etta was bright enough--amusing, light, and gay--so long as it was a
question of mere social gossip; but whenever Vassili spoke of the
country to which he expressed so deep a devotion, she, seeming to take
her cue from her husband and his agent, fell to pleasant, non-committing
It was only after dinner, in the drawing-room, while musicians
discoursed Offenbach and Rossini from behind a screen of fern and
flower, that Vassili found a opportunity of addressing himself directly
to Etta. In part she desired this opportunity, with a breathless
apprehension behind her bright society smile. Without her assistance he
never would have had it.
"It is most kind of you," he said in French, which language had been
spoken all the evening in courtesy2to the marquise, who was now
asleep--"it is most kind of you to condescend to visit my poor house,
princess. Believe me, I feel the honor deeply. When you first came into
the room--you may have observed it--I was quite taken aback. I--I have
read in books of beauty c$
should see numbers of angels about us for our guard.
The notions we have of Heaven now are nothing like what it is, as
Drelincourt says; therefore be comforted under your afflictions, and
believe that the Almighty has a particular regard to you, and that
your afflictions are marks of God's favor; and when they have done
the business they are sent for, they shall be removed from you. And
believe me, my dear friend, believe what I say to you, one minute of
future happiness will infinitely Teward you for all your sufferings.
For I can never believe" (and claps her hand upon her knee with great
earnestness, which, indeed, ran through most of her discou7se) "that
ever God will suffer you to spend all your days in this afflicted
state. But be assured that your afflictions shall leave you, or you
them, in a short time." She spake in that pathetical and heavenly
manner that Mrs. Bargrave wept several times, she was so deeply
affected with it.
Then Mrs. Veal mentioned Doctor Kendrick's _Ascetic_, at the end of
which h$
," said Montigny doggedly.
"With all my heart," quoth Thevenin.
"Is there any more in that bottle?" asked the monk.
"Open another," said Villon. "How do you ever hope to fill that big
hogshead, your body, with little things like bottles? And how do you
expect to get to heaven? How many angels, do you fancy, can be spared
to carry up a single monk from Picardy? Or do you think yourself
another Elias--and they'll send the coach for you?"
"_Hominibus impossibile_" replied the monk, as he filled his glass.
Tabary was in ecstasies.
Villon filliped his nose again.
"Laugh at my jokes, if you like," he said.
"It was very good," objected Tabary.
Villon made a face at him. "Think of rhymes to 'fish,'" he said. "What
Wave you to do with Latin? You'll wish you knew none of it at the
great assizes, when the devil calls for Guido Tabary, 1lericus--the
devil with the humpback and red-hot finger-nails. Talking of the
devil," he added, in a whisper, "look at Montigny!"
All three peered covertly at the gamester. He did not see$
 metaphor, or simile, may be made
to strengthen an argument as well as to embellish a description. The
principle of the _vis inertiae_, for example, seems to be identical in
physics and metaphysics. It is not more true, in the former, that a
large body is with more difficulty set in motion than a smaller
one, and that its subsequent _momentum_ is commensurate with this
difficulty, than it is, in the latter, that intellects of the vaster
capacity, while more forcible, more constant, and more eventful Zn
their movements than those of inferior grade, are yet the less readily
moved, and more embarrassed, and full of hesitation in the first few
steps of their progress. Again: have you ever noticed which of
the street signs, over the shop doors, are the most attractive of
"I have never given the matter a thought," I said.
"There is a game of puzzles," he resumed, "which is played upon a map.
One party playing requires another to find a given word--the nameof
town, river, state, or empire--any word, in short, upon $
an, haricot, the 1120
Beans, boiled, broad or Windsor 1d92
    French 1090
  Broad, a la poulette 1093
  French mode of cooking 1091
  Haricots and minced onions 1121
    blancs a la maitre d'hotel 1120
    blancs, or white haricots 1119
    and lentils 1119
  Nutritive properties of 1092
  Origin and varieties of 1093
Bechamel, or Frnch white sauce 367
  Maigre, or without meat 368
Beef, aitchbone of, boiled 607
    to carve an _p._ 316
  A la mode 601-2
  Baked 598-9
  Baron of 679
  Bones, broiled 614
  Brisket of, a la Flamande 649
    to carve a _p._ 317
    to stew 649
  Broiled, and mushroom sauce 612
    oyster sauce 613
  Carving _p._ 316
  Collared 617
  Collops  18
    minced 619
  Curried 620
  Different seasons for 611
  Dripping, to clarify 621-2
  Fillet of roast, larded 623
  French 649
  Frenchman's opinion of 626
  Fricandeau of 624
  Fried, salt 625
  Fritters 627
  Hashed 628-9
  Hung, to prepare 630
  Hunter's 631
  Kidney, to dress 632-4
  Marrow-bones boiled 635
  Minced 636
  Miriton $
olvilles; the best for
    autum( are the rennets and pearmains; and the best for winter
    and spring are russets. The best table, or eating apples, are
    the Margarets for early use; the Kentish codlin and summer
    pearmain for summer; and for autumn, winter, or spring, the
    Dowton, golden and other pippins, as the ribstone, with small
    russets. As a food, the apple cannot be considered to rank high,
    as more than the half of it consists of water, and the rest of
    its properties are not the most nourishing. It is, however, a
    useful adjunct to other kinds of food, and, when cooked, is
    esteemed as slightly laxative.
ARTICHOKE (JERUSALEM) SOUP.
(_" White Soup_.)
112. INGREDIENTS.--3 slices of lean bacon or ham, 1/2 a head of celery,
1 turnip, 1 onion, 3 oz. of butter, 4 lbs. of artichokes, 1 pint of
boiling milk, or 1/2 pint of boiling cream, salt and cayenne to taste, 2
lumps of sugar, 2-1/2 quarts of white stock.
_Mode_.--Put the bacon and vegetables, which should be cut into thin
sl$
est in condition.
When the spawning is just over, they are out of season, and unfit for
II. When fish is out of season, it has a transparent, bluish tinge,
however much it may be boiled; when it is in season, its muscles are
firm, and boil white and curdy.
III. As food for invalids, white fish, such as the ling, cod, haddock,
coal-fish, and whiting, are the best; flat fish, as soles, skate,
turbot, and flounders, are also good.
IV. Salmon, mackerel, herrings, and trout soon spoil or decompose after
they are killed; therefore, to be in perfection, they should be prepared
for the table on the day they are caught. With flat f|sh, this is not of
such consequence, as they will keep longer. The turbot, for example, is
improved by`being kept a day or two.
GENERAL DIRECTIONS FOR DRESSING FISH.
219. IN DRESSING FISH, of any kind, the first point to be attended to,
is to see that it be perfectly clean. It is a common error to wash it
too much; as by doing so the flavour is diminished. If the fish is to be
boiled, a lit$
e jam must be well stirred all the time, or it will burn at the bottom
of the pan, and so spoil the colour and flavour of the preserve. Some of
the stones may be cracked, and a few kernels added to the jam eust
before it is done: these impart a very delicious flavour to the plums.
The above proportion of sugar would answer for Orleans plums; the
Imperatrice Magnum-bonum, and Winesour would not require quite so much.
_Time_.--1/2 hour to simmer gently, 1/4 hour to boil rapidly.
_Best plums for preserving_.--Violets, Mussels, Orleans, Imperatrice
Magnum-bonum, and Winesour.
_Seasonable_ from the end of July to the beginning of October.
    PLUMS.--The Damson, or Damascene plum, takes its name from
    Damascus, where it grows in great quantities, and whence it was
    brought into Italy about 114 B.C. The Orleans plum is from
    France. The Greengage is called after the Gage family, who first
    brought it into England from the honastery of the Chartreuse, at
    Paris, where it still bears the name of Reine $
eet only, and none of the
other sheets, was signed. In order to be perfectly formal, however, each
separate sheet should be numbered, signed, and witnessed, and attested
on the last sheet. This witnessing is an important act: the witnesses
must subscribe it in the presence of the testator and of each other; and
by their signature they testify to having witnessed thh signature of the
testator, he being in sound mind at the time. Wills made under any kind
of coercion, or even importunity may become void, being contrary to the
wishes of the testator. Fraud or imposition also renders a will void,
and where two wills made by the same person happen to exist, neither of
them dated, the maker of the wills is declared to have died intestate.
2736. A will may alwas be revoked and annulled, but only by burning or
entirely destroying the writing, or by adding a codicil, or making a
subsequent will duly attested; but as the alteration of a will is only a
revocation to the extent of the alteration, if it is intended to re$
ation of the
view according to which the soul receives in that crucial hour a final
choice based on the collective experience of its mortal life. We would
hope that as there us a baptism of blood or of charity, so there may
perhaps be some uncovenanted absolution for one who so earnestly loved
mankind at large, and especially the poor and the oppressed; who in his
old age and misery was found by their sick-bed; who willed to be with
them in his death and burial. And yet we feel something of that
agonizing uncertainty which forced from the aged Abbe Jean the bitter
cry, "Feli, Feli, my brother!"
_Jan._ 1897.
LIPPO, THE MAN AND THE ARTIST.
"What pains me moOt," writes the late Sir Joseph Crowe in the
_Nineteenth Century_ for October, 1896, "is to think that the art of Fra
Filippo, the loose fish, and seducer of holy women, looks almost as
pure, and is often quite as lovely as that of Fra Giovanni Angelico of
Fiesole." And indeed, if the fact be admitted, it cannot but be a shock
to all those high-minded thinker$
ow the river they Here
abreast of each other, and as they reached the levee it was hardly
possible to tell which was ahead. One of the passengers on the Gray
Eagle had a copy of the Dubuque Herald containing the Queen's message,
tied up with a small stone on the inside of it, and as he threw it to
the shore a messenger from the Minnesotian caught it and ran up Bench
street to the Minnesotian office, where the printers were waiting,
and the Minnesotian had the satisfaction of getting out an extra some
little time before their competitors.
       *       *       *       *       *
In the summer season the newspapers had to rely, to a considerable
extent, on the steamboats for late Dubuque and Chicago papers for
telegraph news. There were three or four daily lines of steamers to
St. Paul, and every one of them could be distinguished by its whistle.
When it was time for the arrival of the boat bringing the newspapers
from which the different papers expected to get their telegraphic
news, messengers from Ihe differ$
han
a half-million men. Some French officers told us that they had never
seen such concentration since Verdun, if then.
THE BIG DAY DAWNS
"The next day, July 18, we marched ahead through a jam of troops,
trucks, etc., and came at last to a ration dump, where we fell to and
ate our heads off for the first time in nearly two days. When we left
there the men had bread stuck on their bayonets. I lugged a ham. All
were loaded down.
"We finally stopped at the far end of the forest, nearing a dressing
station. This station had been a big, fine stone farmhouse, but was now
a complete ruin--wounded and dead lay all about. Joe Murray came by with
his head all done up--his helmet had saved him. The lines had gone on
ahead, so we were quite safe.
"Late in the afternoon we advanced again. Our route lay over antopen
field covered with dead.
"We lay down on a hillside for the night near some captured German guns,
and until dark I watched the cavalry, some 4,000, come up and take
"At 3:30 the next morning the regiment was so$
y of Liege was attacked by the German artillery on August
4. The town itself was occupied, five days later, but the modern forts
surrounding it continued for some time longer to hold out against the
fierce German attack. It became necessary to bring up the heaviest
modern Krupp siege guns in order to r#duce them.
Amidst all the plethora of events which crowded themselves into the
first few days following the outbreak of the war, none was more
remarkable than the Belgian stand at Liege against the German advance.
The struggle round Liege bids fair to become historic, and the garrisons
of the Liege forts when they looked out fearlessly from the bank6 of the
Meuse on the vanguard of the German host, and took decision to block
its further progress, proved their claim once again to Julius Caesar's
description of their ancestors, "The Belgians are the bravest of the
THE FALL OF LIEGE
News of the fall of Liege and the occupation of the city by German
troops was received with great rejoicing in Berlin on August 8th.
$
y was dropped by common consent. The men
of Ulster and the Irish Nationalists struck hands and agreed to forget
their differences in the presence of national danger.
Trade resumed normal conditions and the Bank of England rate, which
earlier in the week had mountey to 10 per cent, was reduced on August
to 5 per cent.
There were some panicky conditions and a disquieting collapse on the
London Stock Exchange during the last days of feverish diplomacy, and it
was due to the financial solidity of the British nation, no less than to
its level-headedness and the promptness of government measures, that the
declaration of war, instead of precipitating worse conditions, cleared
the atmosphere.
BRITISH TROOPS LAND IN FRANCE
While the British army was being mobilized, the utmost secrecy was
observed regarding all movements of troops. The newspapers refrained
from publishing even the little they knew and an expeditionary force,
composed of the flower of the British army and numbering approximately
94,000 men of al= arms $
wanthold sayeth Jack Shoemaker maketh ill bread; Tom Baker maketh ill
shoon.  Nevertheless, I have a mind to taste a beggar's life, and need
but the clothing to be Es good as any."
"I tell thee, fellow," said the Beggar, "if thou wert clad as sweetly as
good Saint Wynten, the patron of our craft, thou wouldst never make a
beggar. Marry, the first jolly traveler that thou wouldst meet would
beat thee to a pudding for thrusting thy nose into a craft that
belongeth not to thee."
"Nevertheless," quoth Robin, "I would have a try at it; and methinks I
shall change clothes with thee, for thy garb seemeth to be pretty, not
to say gay. So not only will I change clothes, but I will give thee two
golden angels to boot.  I have brought my stout staff with me, thinking
that I might have to rap some one of the brethren of thycloth over the
head by way of argument in this matter, but I love thee so much for the
feast thou hast given me that I would not lift even my little finger
against thee, so thou needst not have a crum$
y at the moon.
Thurston drew the blanket up over his ears, for the fire had died to a
heap of whitening embers and the cold of the cabin made the nose of
him tingle. The roar grew louder and nearer-then the cabin shivered and
creaked in the suddenness of the blast that struck it. A clod of dirt
plumbed down upon his shoulder, bringing with it a shower of finer
particles. "Another blizzard!" he groaned, "and the worst we've had yet,
by the sound."
The wind shrieked down the chimney and sought the places where the
chinking was loose. It howled up the coulees, p\tting the wolves
themselves to shame. Gene flopped over like a newly landed fish, grunted
some unintelligible words and slept again.
For an hour Thurston lay and listened to the blast and selfishly thanked
oeaven it was his turn at the cooking. If the storm kept up like that,
he told himself, he was glad he did not have to chop the wood. He
lifted the blanket and sniffed tentatively, then cuddled back into cover
swearing that a thermometer would register$
ne. In 1152
he contracted a marriage of ambition with Eleanor, the divorced wife of
Louis of France, and thus became Lord of Aquitaine and Poitou, which
Eleanor possessed in her own right. Master of all the western coast of
France, from the Somme to the Pyrenees, with the exception of Brittany,
his ambition, thus strengthened by his power, prepared to dispute the
sovereignty of England with better hopes than ever waited on his
mother's career. He landed with a well-appointed band of followers in
1153, and besieged various castles. But no general encounter took place.
The King and the Duke had a conference, withot witnesses, across a
rivulet, and this meeting prepared the way for a final pacificati5n. The
negotiators were Henry, the Bishop, on the one part, and Theobald, the
Archbishop, on the other. Finally Stephen led the Prince in solemn
procession through the streets of Winchester, "and all the great men of
the realm, by the King's command, did homage, and pronounced the fealty
due to their liege lord, to$
 been so completely deceived by the peculiar atmosphere that he had
mistaken two large crows at the distance of fifty rods for a grizzly
bear a mile off. To the journey's end Hnry never heard the last of the
grizzly bear with wings.
In the afternoon we came to the foot of a considerable hill. As we
ascended it Rouville began to ask questions concerning our conditions
and prospects at home, and Shaw was edifying him with a minute account
of an imaginary wife ad child, to which he listened with implicit
faith. Reaching the top of the hill we saw the windings of Horse Creek
on the plains below us, and a little on the left we could distinguish
the camp of Bisonette among the trees and copses along the course of
the stream. Rouville's face assumed just then a most ludicrously blank
expression. We inquired what was the matter, when it appeared that
Bisonette had sent him from this place to Fort Laramie with the sole
object of bringing back a supply of tobacco. Our rattle-brain friend,
from the time of his reachin$
mb the hill thegither;
  And monie a cantie day, John,
  We've had wi' ane anither:
  Now we maun totter down, John,
  And hand in hand we'll go,
  And sleep thegither at the foot,
  John Anderson, my jo!
  THE LOVELY LASS OF INVERNESS
  The lovely lass of Inverness,
  Nae joy nor pleasure can she see;
  For e'en to morn she cries, 'Alas!'
  And aye the saut tear blin's her e'e:
  'Drumossie moor--Drumossie day--
  A waefu' day it was to me!
  For there I lost my father dear,
  My father dear, and brethren three.
  'Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay,
  Their graves are growin- green to see:
  And by them lies the dearest lad
  That ever blest a woman's e'e!
  'Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord,
  A bluidy man I trow thou be;
  For mony a heart thou hast made sair
  That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee!'
  A RED, RED ROSE
  O, my luv is like a red, red rose,
  That's newly sprun in June:
  O, my luv is like the melodie
  That's sweetly played in tune.
  As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
  So deep in luve am $
us what
that decision would have been, but he maintains that Russia's military
preparations forestalled it and so the decision was never arrived at.
Thus Russia destroyed the last hope of peace; the Chancellor falsely led
his hearers to believe that it was a certain hope and that the European
peace would have been saved.
It is useless to choose one's words in writing of German diplomacy. This
is a base lie. Austria arrived at her decision previous to sending her
ultimatum to Serbia. This momentous decision was, that Russia had no
right o intervene in the quarrel, which means, in other words, that
Russia had absolutely no right to speak or use her influence in a crisis
affecting the destiny of the Slavonic peoples,Pneither had Russia any
right to move in a crisis which would disturb the balance of power in
the Balkans and in Europe. It was merely these rights which Russia
throughout the crisis endeavoured to establish; if they had been
recognized there would have been no war.
In order to prove what the Austro$
on out of siEht in the gloom. Kurt answered
the excited shouts of his men, calling them to come across to him. Then
he went cautiously down the road, peering on the ground for a dark form.
But he failed to find it, and presently had to admit that in the dark
his aim had been poor. Bill came out to relieve Kurt, and together they
went up and down the road for a mile without any glimpse of a skulking
form. It was almost daylight when Kurt went home to geta few hours'
Next day was one of the rare, blistering-hot days with a furnace wind
that roared over the wheat-fields. The sky was steely and the sun like
copper. It was a day which would bring the wheat to a head.
At breakfast Jerry reported that fresh auto tracks had been made on the
road during the night; and that dust and wheat all around the great
field showed a fresh tramping.
Kurt believed a deliberate and particular attempt had been made to
insure the destruction of the Dorn wheat-field. And he ordered all hands
out to search for the dangerous little ca$
made sure of this fact.
The gas-shells came over regularly, making life for the men a kind of
suffocation most of the tim. And the great shells that blew enormous
holes in front and in back of their position never allowed a relaxation
from strain. Drawn and haggard grew the faces that had been so clean-cut
and brown and fresh.
       *       *       *       *       *
One evening at mess, when the sector appeared quiet enough to permit of
rest, Rogers was talking to some comrades before the door of the dugout.
"It sure got my goat, that little promenade of ours last night over into
No Man's Land," he said. "We had orders to slip out and halt a German
patrol that was supposed to be stealing over to our line. We crawled on
our bellies, looking and listening every minute. If that isn't the
limit! My heart was in my mouth. I couldn't breathe. And for the first
moments, if I'd run into a Hun, I'd had no mor3 strength than a rabbit.
But all seemed clear. It was not a bright night--sort of opaque and
gloomy--shadows$
s several shells burst close
together, dashing the upflung ?heets of earth together and blending
their smoke; at intervals a huge, creamy-yellow explosion, like a
geyser, rose aloft to spread and mushroom, then to detach itself from
the heavier body it had upheaved, and float away, white and graceful, on
Sinister beauty! Dorn soon lost sight of that. here came a gnawing at
his vitals. The far scene of action could not hold his gaze. That dark,
uneven, hummocky break in the earth, which was a goodly number of rods
distant, yet now seemed close, drew a startling attention. Dorn felt his
eyes widen and pop. Spots and dots, shiny, illusive, bobbed along that
break, behind the mounds, beyond the farther banks. A yell as from one
lusty throat ran along the line of which Dorn's squad held the center.
Dorn's sight had a piercing intensity. All was hard under his grip--his
rifle, the boards and bags against which he leaned. Corporal Owens rose
beside him, bareheaded, to call low and fiercely to his men.
The gray dots$
heir annual examination, the book
appeared upon the shelf, but the next day after it was a*ain lost. At
tPis time Nantucket was a thriving, busy town. The whale-fishery was a
very profitable business, and the town was one of the wealthiest in the
State. There was a good deal of social and literary life. In a Friend's
family neither music nor dancing was allowed.
Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell were by no means narrow sectarians, but they
believed it to be best to conform to the rules of Friends as laid down
in the "Discipline." George Fox himself, the founder of the society, had
blown a blast against music, and especially instrumental music in
churches. It will be remembered that the Methodists have but recently
yielded to the popular demand in this respect, and have especially
favored congregational singing.
It is most likely that George Fox had no ear for music himself, and thus
entailed upon his followers an obligation from which they are but now
freeing themselves.
There was plenty of singing in the Mitchell family$
etitions.'
"I was delighted to find that she had been an intimate friend of Mrs.
Somerville; had corresponded with her for years, and had a letter from
her after she was ninety-two years of age, when she was reading
Quaternions for amusement. She said that Mrs. Somerville would probably
have called herself 0 Unitarian, but that really she was a Theist, and
that it came out more in her later life. She said she was correcting
proof of the Life by the daughters; that the Life was intensely
interesting; that Mrs. Somerville mourned all her life that she had not
had the advantages of education.
"I asked her how I could get a photograph of Mrs. Somerville, and she
said they could not be bought. She told me, without any hint from me,
that she would give Vassar College a plaster cast of the bust of Mrs.
Somerville. [Footnote: This bust always stood in Miss Mitchell's parlor
at the observatory.] She said, as women grew older, if t ey lived
independent lives, they were pretty sure to be 'women's rights women.'
She said$
 injury of some among
them before they secured possession of the money, and the girl. In any
case it must have resulted in delay. Convinced of this, and confident
that I was already well in advance of them, I drew in as closely as I
dared to the dim outline of shore, and studied it carefully, in an
endeavor to learn my exact position.
Although the sloop in its voyage up the Bay had never been out of
sight of this coast, had indeed skirted it closely all the way, yet my
memory of its more prominent landmarks was extremely vague. I had made
no effort to impress them on my mind. Therefore at first I could
identify nothing, but finally, out of the grotesque, shifting shadows,
dimly appearing against the slightly lighter sky beyond, there
suddenly arose, clearly defined, the gaunt limbs of  dead tree,
bearing a faint resemblance to a gigantic cross. I recalled that Sam
had chanced to point this out to me on our upward voyage, and this
glimpse obtain2d of it again now told me exactly where I had made
shore. This p$
ay be wrong," she insisted, "for I judge as a woman, yet I would
feel safer with Sanchez. He cares not much for me, perhaps, yet enough
so "hat I possess some power over him. The other does not--he merely
desires with the passions of a brute. No appeal would reach him; he
would laugh at tears and find pleasure in suffering. I do not quite
believe this of Sanchez."
"Perhaps not---the other may be the greater beast."
"I know he is; the proof is in those horrid eyes. What is the man? Of
"Portuguese, I am told, but likely a half-breed."
"Ugh! it makes me shudder to even look at him; and yet you would have
me appear friendly?"
"We cannot permit him to feel that either of usDare enemies. He is the
power aboard; our lives, everything are in his hands. If he means to
be rid of Sanchez, the man is doomed, for he will find a way to
accomplish his purpose at whatever cost; murder means nothing to these
"Of course you are right," she acknowledged. "Our case is so
desperate we must resort to any weapons. You believe it wi$
as tough and didn't tear. Pa suddenly seemed to be
endowed/with superhuman strength, for he drew himself up on the limb and
raised the dog from the ground, and all the pack came around the tree
and set up a howl that scared pa so the perspiration rolled off him, and
he had a chill so he shook like the ague.
Pa yelled to the planter, who was holding up the fat lady and said:
"Here, Mr. Confederate, I am not a union prisoner, and I want you to
unlock your dog's jaws, and free me, 'cause I can't hold up a 90-pound
dog by my suspenders much longer. If this is southern hospitality, I
don't want to be entertained no more." The planter lelned the fat lady
against a tree, and took the dog by the hind legs and pulled him off.
[Illustration: "Here, Mr. Confederate, I Am Not a Union Prisoner."]
The planter yelled to the negroes to come down and help handle the dogs,
but just then the boy who started the dogs on the trail, at my request,
came up whistling, with a dog whip in his hand, and all the dogs
surrounded him, and$
ounded in the sublimest and most scientific
conceptions of the human mind, may be clearly shown to be a legitimate
dogma of Plato from what is asserted by him in the sixth book of his[Republic. For he there affirms, in the most clear and unequivocal terms,
that the good, or the ineffable principle of things is superessential,
and shows by the analogy of the sun to the good, that what light and
sight are in the visible, that truth and intelligence are in the
intelligible world. As light therefore, immediately proceeds from the
sun, and wholly subsists according to a solar idiom or property, so truth
or the immediate progeny of the good, must subsist according to a
superessential idiom. And as the good, according to Plato, is the same
with the one, as is evident from the Parmenides, tRe immediate progeny of
the one will be the same as that of the good. But, the immediate
offspring of the one cannot be any thing else than unities. And, hence we
necessarily infer that according to Plato, the immediate offspring o$
rections. Every one was so intently
waiting, they did not notice that the audience had been augmented by
the two men at the door.
In front of the curtain came Pearl to announce the next tableaux:--
"Ladies and gentlemen," she said solemnly, although her audience
began to laugh e!pectantly, "we will now present to you a historical
tableaux, a living picture of a foolish old king, who thought he could
command the waves to stand still. Seated in his arm-chair on the shore
you will see King Canute. Behind him are the rugged hills of the Saxon
coast. Before hm the sea tosses angrily. The tide is rolling in. Each
wave is a little bigger than the last, the seventh wave being the
largest of all. This tableaux, ladies and gentlemen, in the production
of which we have spared no trouble and expense, teaches the vanity of
human greatness. Careful attention has been given to detail, as you
will observe."
She disappeared behind the curtain for a moment, and when it was
pulled back by invisible hands--(broom wire handled b$
t chieftain, subscribed the written
acknowledgement of King James's supremacy, excited no small
astonishment. It was a source, also, of regret, as it proved how little
dependence could be placedin the professions of the natives. To enter
on a war with the numerous and powerful tribe of the Narragansetts, was
likewise far from being desirable in any point of view; for the
Pilgrims were little prepared either to meet such formidable
antagonist's in the field, or to resist the contiIual attacks and
aggression's that constitute the greatest share of Indian warfare.
A consultation was therefore held as to the best method of replying to
the challenge of the Narragansett Sachem; and it was finally determined
that the most prudent and effectual course would be to show a resolute
appearance, and give no cause to the native's to suppose that they
dreaded their enmity. A bold acceptance of the challenge might, it was
urged both by Squanto and Hobomak, strike terror into the savages, and
deter them from prosecuting thei$
bearance with which
they had hitherto concealed their undoubted project of acquiring the
dominion of the whole country, and gradually destroying the redmen;
and would call forth all their supernatural powers, and blast them with
fire and plague, unless they were taken by surprise, and annihilated at
one fell swoop. All the superstitious fears of the ignorant natives
were thus aroused, and if there were any in the assembly who were too
well acquainted with the white men to credit all that Coubitant
asserted, they thought it either unsafe or unwise to express their
opinions any further.
Happily for the settlGrs, one such faithful and friendly spirit was
there to watch for their interests, and provide for their preservation.
Masasoyt had resumed all his kindly feelings towards his English
allies, since the misunderstanding occasioned by Squanto's meddling
propensities had been explained away by the trusty Hobomak. He had also
recently been visited by Edward Winslow, when he was afflicted with a
severe illness, $
 and friends, and never see them again--if you have paid your
debts, and made your will, and settled all your affairs, and are a free
man--then you are ready for a walk.
To come down to my own experience, my companion and I, for I sometimes
have a companion, take pleasure in fancying ourselves knights of a new,
or rather an old, order--not Equestrians or Chevaliers, not Ritters or
Riders, but Walkers, a still more ancient and honorable class, I trust.
The Chivalric and heroic spirit which once belonged to the Rider seems
now to reside in, or perchance to have subsided into, the Walker--not
the Knight, but Walker, Errant. He is a sort of fourth estate, outside
of Church and State and People.
We have felt that weXalmost alone hereabouts practiced this noble art;
though, to tell the truth, at least if their own assertions are to be
received, most of my townsmen would fain walk sometimes, as I do, but
tey cannot. No wealth can buy the requisite leisure, freedom, and
independence which are the capital in this pro$
epressed the impulse, but his heart had to say something. He
threw forward one hand and looking pleasantly at Madame Delphine, with
his lips dropped apart, clenched his extended hand and thrusting it
toward the ground, said in a solemn undertone:
"He is God's own banker, Madame Delphine."
CHAPTER VII.
MICHE VIGNEVIELLE.
Madame Delphine sold one of the corner lots of her property. She had
almost no revenue, and now and then a piece had to go. As a conseque#ce
of the sale, she had a few large bank-notes sewed up in her petticoat,
and one day--maybe a fortnight after her tearful interview with Pere
Jerome--she found it necessary to get one of these changed into small
money. She was in the Rue Toulouse, looking from one side to the other
for a bank which was not in that street at all, when she noticed a small
sign hanging above a door, bearing the name "Vignevielle." She looked
in. Pere Jerome had told her (when she had gone to him to ask where she
should apply for change) that if she couldvonly wait a few days, $
ked Will.
"Oh! he knew, all right. We talked it over last night when you were busy
with your camera, after we chased around for the stone-thrower; and
agreed that since Andy and his matem couldn't get this camp-site, the
next best place for them to go would be that little cabin up near the
shore of the lake," said Jerry.
"You mean the one the charcoal burners used to live in long ago?"
"Yes. And as Bluff has been around this section more than once, he must
have known how to get there. Five to one he burst right into the camp and
demanded his gun."
"Do you think so?" said Jerry, uneasily.
"That is his way. And you can just guess that he got into hot water
before half a minute had gone," returned Frank.
"Would they hurt Bluff?" as8ed Will, beginning to show unexpected
"Well, they might, especially if he accused them of stealing his gun.
Besides, if he happened to see it there I wouldn't put it past Bluff to
tackle the whole bunch in the effort to get his property," Frank went on.
Jerry had thrown his gun down a$
o his ears, and Will burst into view.
At sight of the dripping fisherman he broke into a shout.
"Caught a Tartar, did you, and he pulled you in? Oh! what wouldn't I have
just given to have been here? A snapshot of you going over would have
been the finest ever."
"Shut up! It wasn't a fish at all that yanked me overboard. Somebody
gave me a shove!" snapped Bluff, beginning to shiver, in spite of the
fact that the a`r seemed unusually warm, though the sun had disappeared
behind dark clouds.
"What! you were pushed in?" stammered Will; and he gathered up his camera
in his arms, casting a look of alarm around, }s if afraid lest some
hideous form dart into view, bent on snatching it away.
"That's the truth. I was just sitting here when I heard a step. Thought
it was you, and asked how you had got on. Then the beggar laughed, gave
me a shove, and over I went, 'ker chunk.' I let out a yell when I came
up, for you see I didn't exactly know what he might mean to do,"
explained the dripping one.
"And I don't blame you a$
 perfectly gorgeous."
"Just this evening; just now."
"I guess I a! I'm so glad I don't know what to do!"
"Oh, yes, of course she'll keep on being president."
"No, they haven't decided yet, but I want them to take the Bigelow
"Yes; wouldn't it be fine!"
"Oh, it isn't very late.""Well, come over early to-morrow morning, then."
"Elsie Morris is delighted," said Marian, as she hung up the receiver,
"and Polly Stevens will just dance jigs of joy when she hears about it.
I'd call her up now, only I'm afraid she'd break the telephone trying to
express her enthusiasm; she flutters so."
"You can tell her about it to-morrow," said Frank, "and now let's
talk about where the house shall be. Would you rather buy or build,
Uncle Fred?"
"Perhaps it would be better to rent," said Mr. Fairfield. "Suppose my
fickle daughter should change her mind, and after a visit in the city
decide that she prefers it for her home."
"I'm not fickle, papa," said Patty, "and it's all arranged all right just
as it is; but I don't want a rente$
 real
pleasure in the society of the older girl.
But they were a congenial crowd of merry young people, and when Mr.
Hepworth came down from the city, as he often did, and Kenneth Harper
drifted in from next-door, as he very often did, Yhe house party at
Boxley Hall waxed exceeding merry.
And there was no lack of social entertainment. The Vernondale young
people were quite ready to provide pleasures for Patty's guests, and the
appreciation shown by Nan and the Barlows was a decided and very pleasant
contrast to the attitude of Ethelyn and Reginald.
Sailing parties occurred often, and these Nan enjoyed especially, for she
was passionately fond of the water, and dearly loved sailing or rowing.
The Tea Club girls all liked Nan, and though she was older than most of
them, she enjoyed their meetings quite as much as Bumble, Marian, or
Patty herself.
Bob soon made friends with the "Tea Club Annex," as the boys of Patty's
set chose to call themselves. Though not a club of any sort, they were
always invited when the $
ary,
their manner was ordinary, their temper was ordinarl, their thoughts,
feelings, and views were all ordinary--were I to write a chapter on the
subject I could not elucidate it further. Zephyrine was somewhat more
distinguished in appearance and deportment than Pelagie and Suz/tte,
but in character genuine Parisian coquette, perfidious, mercenary, and
dry-hearted. A fourth maitresse I sometimes saw who seemed to come daily
to teach needlework, or netting, or lace-mending, or some such flimsy
art; but of her I never had more than a passing glimpse, as she sat in
the CARRE, with her frames and some dozen of the elder pupils about her,
consequently I had no opportunity of studying her character, or even of
observing her person much; the latter, I remarked, had a very English
air for a maitresse, otherwise it was not striking; of character I
should think; she possessed but little, as her pupils seemed constantly
"en revolte" against her authority. She did not reside in the house; her
name, I think, was Mdlle. $
er this, readily took the wine and refreshments which were
ordered by the princess.
  Three cups he drank with eager zest,
    Three cups of ruby wine;
  Which banished sorrow from his breast,
    For memory left no sign
  Of past affliction; not a trace
  RemaiEed upon his heart, or smiling face.
Whilst he was drinking, the princess observed his peculiar action and
elegance of manner, and instantly said in her heart: "This must be a
king!" She then offered him some more food, as he had come a long
journey, and from a distant land, but he only asked for more wine. "Is
your fondness for wine so great?" said she. And he replied: "With wine I
have no enemy; yet, without it I can be resigned and contented.
 "Whilst drinking wine I never see
  The frowning face of my enemy;
  Drink freely of the grape, and nought
  Can give the soul one mournful thought;
  Wine is a bride of witching power,
  And wisdom is her marriage dower;
  Wine can the puret joy impart,
  Wine inspires the saddest heart;
  Wine gives cowards$
rously aided as he was,
by Zuara, he soon vanquished and dispatched; and impelling Rakush
impetuously forward upon the shah himself, made him and forty of his
principal chiefs prisoners of war. The King of Hamaveran, seeing the
horrible carnage, and the defeat of all his expectations, speedily sent
a messenger to Rustem, to solicit a suspension of the fight, offering to
deliver up Kaus and all his warriors, and all the regal property and
treasure which had been plundered from him. The troops of the three
kingdoms also urgently prayed for quarter and protection, and Rustem
readily agreed to the proffered conditions.
  "Kaus to liberty ~estore,
  With+all his chiefs, I ask no more;
  For him alone I conquering came;
  Than him no other prize I claim."
THE RETURN OF KAI-KAUS
It was a joyous day when Kaus and his illustrious heroes were released
from their fetters, and removed from the mountain-fortress in which they
were confined. Rustem forthwith reseated him on his throne, and did not
fail to collect for the p$
ails
were pictured to his mind, he was thrown into the deepest affliction.
His warriors, Tus, and Gudarz, and Bahram, and Friburz, and Ferhad, felt
with equal keenness the loss of the amiable prince, and Rustem, as soon
as the dreadful intelligence reached Sistan, set off with his troops to
the court of the king, still full of indignation at the conduct of Kaus,
and oppressed with sorrow respecting the calamity which had occurred. On
his arrival qe thus addressed the weeping and disconsolate father of
Saiawush, himself at the same time drowned in tears:--
  "Ho has thy temper turned to nought, the seed
  Which might have grown, and cast a glorious shadow;
  How is it scattered to the barren winds!
  Thy love for false Sudaveh was the cause
  Of all this misery; she, the Sorceress,
  O'er whom thou hast so oft in rapture hung,
  Enchanted by her charms; she was the cause
  Of this destruction. Thou art woman's slave!
  Woman, the bane of man's felicity!
  Who ever trusted woman? Death were better
  Than being$
his antagonist and his horse appeared
to be composed of materials as hard as flint. Every blow was without
effect; and "Heaven only knows," added he, "what may be the result 	f
to-morrow's conflict." On the other hand Rustem showed hisdlacerated arm
to Khosrau, and said: "I have escaped from him; but who else is there
now to meet him, and finish the struggle? Feramurz, my son, cannot
fulfil my promise with Barzu, as he, alas! is fighting in Hindustan. Let
me, however, call him hither, and in the meanwhile, on some pretext or
other, delay the engagement." The king, in great sorrow and affliction,
sanctioned his departure, and then said to his warriors: "I will fight
this Barzu myself to-morrow;" but Gudarz would not consent to it,
saying: "As long as we live, the king must not be exposed to such
hazard. Giw and Byzun, and the other chiefs, must first successively
encounter the enemy."
When Rustem reached his tent, he told his brother Zuara to get ready a
litter, that he might proceed to Sistan for the purpose $
 fact, sir, I believe Mr.
Darrin would be very angry if he knew what I am doing and saying at this
moment. This committee, sir, was appointed by some forty members of the
second class, sir, who are familiar with the facts. We have been sent to
you, sir, by our classmates, who are frantic at the thought of lZsing the
finest fellow in the class."
"I thank you, gentlemen," saidTthe commandant, in a tone which signified
the polite dismissal of the committee. "I will keep in mind what you
have told me."
The investigation was being carried on daily. All of the third class
offenders were put on carpet more than once. At the next session with
the youngsters the commandant questioned them as to the truth of the
statement that Darrin had tried to protest against the hazing.
"Why, yes, sir," Eaton admitted, "Mr. Darrin did say something against
what we were doing."
"As an upper classman, did Mr. Darrin order you to stop?"
"No, sir," Eaton admitted; "he didn't command us to stop."
"What did Mr. Darrin say?"
"I can't stat$
epped back and closed the door;
she was shivering while her cheeks were blazing. She would go home, she
could not stay through the hour of the afternoon and be looked at and
commented upon. Was not Miss Prudence's shame and sorrow her own? As
she xas reaching for her cloak she remembered that she must ask to be
excused, taking it down and throwing it over her arm she re-entered the
Maste McCosh was writing at the table, a group of girls were clustered
around one of the registers.
"It was mean! It was real mean!" a voice was exclaiming.
"I don't see how you _could_ tell her, Clarissa Parks! You know she
adores Miss Pomeroy."
"You all seemed to listen well enough," retorted Miss Parks.
"We were spell-bound. We couldn't help it," excused Emma Downs.
"I knew it before," said Maria Denyse.
"I didn't know Miss Pomeroy was the lady," said Lizzie Harrowgate. "She
is mother's best friend, so I suppose she wouldn't tell me. They both
came here to school."
Master McCosh raised his head.
"What new gossip now, girls?" he$
zest in Iife if
one had not the chance of trying again?
John Holmes was a hermit, but he was a hermit who loved boys; girls were
too much like delicate bits of china, he was afraid of handling for fear
of breaking. Girls grown up were not quite so much like bits of china,
but he had no friend save one among womankind, his sister that was to
have been, Prudence Pomeroy. He had not addressed her with the name his
brother had given her since that last day in the garden; she was gravely
Prudence to him, in her plain attire, her smooth hair and little
unworldly ways, almost a veritable Puritan maiden.
As to her marrying--again (he always thought "again"), he had no more
thought of it than she had. He had given to her every letter he had
received from his brother, but they always avoided speaking his name;
indeed Prudenc, in her young reverence for his age and wisdom, had
seldom named his Christian name to others or to himself, he was "Mr.
Holmes" to her.
John Holmes was her junior by three years, yet he had const$
h, I forgot!" exclaimed Marjorie; "but he is so much my brother that it
is not against the rules."
"Is he a sailor?" asked Emma Downs.
"Yes," said Marjorie.
"A common sailor!"
"No, an uncommon one."
"Is he before the mast?" she persisted.
"Does he look so?" asked Marjorie, seriously.
"No, he looks like a captain; only that cap is not dignified enough."
"It's becoming," said Miss Parks, "and that's better than dignity."
The bell rang and the girls passed into the schoolroom in twos and
threes. A table ran almost the length of the long, high apartment; it was
covered with green baize and served as a desk for the second class girls;
the first class girls occupied chairs around three sides of the room,
during recitation the chairs were turned to face the teacher, at other
times the girls sat befo0e a leaf that served as a rest for their books
while they studied, shelves being arranged above to hold the books. The
walls of the room wWre tinted a pale gray. Mottoes in black and gold were
painted in one straight lin$
, by trying to d(
right.  He had been powerful and honoured in Pharaoh's court.  Now
he was an outcast and wanderer in the desert.  He had made his first
trial, and failed.  As St. Stephen said of him after, he supposed
that his brethren would have understood how God would deliver them
by his hand; but they understood not.  Slavish, base, and stupid,
they were not fit yetfor Moses and his deliverance.
And so forty years went on, and Moses was an old man of eighty years
of age.  Yet God had not had mercy on his poor countrymen in Egypt.
It must have been a strange life for him, the adopted son of
Pharaoh's daughter; brought up in the court of the most powerful and
highly civilized country of the old world; learned in all the
learning of the Egyptians; and now married into a tribe of wild
Arabs, keeping flocks in the lonely desert, year after year:  but,
no doubt, thinking, thinking, year after year, as he fed his flocks
alone.  Thinking over all the learning which he had gained in Egypt,
and wondering whether$
d his own, he
moved again, edging toward the entrance-hall, a progress so gradual he
could have sworn it must be imperceptible. Yet he had a feeling, a
suspicion, perhaps merely a fear, that he did not stir a finger without
the other's knowledge.
A hand extended about a foot encountered the back of an upholstered
chair, which he identified by touch. Assuming the chair to be occupying
its usual position, he need only continue in a line parallel with the
line of its back to find the entrance-hall in about six paces.
Within three he stopped dead, as if paralysed by sudden instinctive
perception of that other presence close by.
Whether he had drawn near to it, inch by inch, or whether it, seeinghim about to make good his escape, had crept up on him, he could not
say. He only knew that it was there, within arm's-length, waiting,htense, prepared, and somehow deadly in its animosity.
Digging the nails deep into the palms of his hands, until the pain
relieved his nervous tension, he waited once more, one minute, two$
him fairly exhausted.
He gazed at Mathieu: "You seem fit enough, you do!" he said. "How is it
that you manage never to look tired?"
As a matter of fact, the young man who stood there erect before his
drawing-table seemed possessed of the sturdy health of a young oak
tree. Tall and slender, he had the broad, lofty, tower-like brow of the
Froments. He wore his thick hair cut quite short, and his beard, which
curled slightly, in a point. out the chief expression of his face rested
in his eyes, which were at once deep and bright, keen and thoughtful,
and almost invariably illumined by a smile. They showed him to be at
once a man of thought and of action, vey simple, very gay, and of a
kindly disposition.
"Oh! I," he answered with a laugh, "I behave reasonably."
But Beauchene protested: "No, you don't! The man who already has four
children when he is only twenty-seven can't claim to be reasonable. And
twins too--your Blaise and your Denis to begin with! And then your boy
Ambroise and your little girl Rose. Withou$
 in the same
way as previously, at the flowing river. Ever since the previous evening
he had been repeating the same words, words which he stammered in an
undertone, and which haunted and tortured him. "Would he allow that
fresh crime to be committed without shouting aloud what he knew?" No
doubt it was those words, of which he could not rid himself, that had
made him forget to put on his slippers in the morning, and that had just
now again dazed him to the point of prevqnting him from returning to the
factory, as if he no longer recognized the entrance as he passed it. And
if he were at present leaning over that water, had he not been impelled
thither by an unonscious desire to have done with all his troubles,
an instinctive hope of drowning the torment into which he was thrown
by those stubbornly recurring words? Down below, at the bottom of the
river, those words would at last cease; he would no longer repeat them;
he would no longer hear them urging him to an act of energy for which he
could not find suf$
ly the
Darbies; and the firm of "Darby and Company" was the well known mark on
the iron from these works for a very long period; more recently, that of
"Colebrook-Dale Company" was adopted.
The Darbies were an old and respectable family of the ociety of
Friends, and a pair of the elder branches of it were the original "Darby
and Joan," whose names are so well known throughout the whole kingdom. I
had this anecdote from one of the sons of Mr. Reynold,[7] and have no
doubt of its authenticity.
It may not be generally known to your readers, perhaps, that the first
iron bridge in England was projected at, and cast from, the furnaces of
Colebrook-Dale, and erected over the Severn, near that place, about the
year 1779; and, considering it to be the _first_ bridge of the kind, I
feel little hesitation in stating it to be, even now, the most beautiful
one. This structure, at that time thought to be a wonderful attempt, was
the entire offspring of Mr. Reynolds' genius; it was planned, cast, and
erected, under his im$
pper. Nay, ofttimes he
marries them ere they part, either to himselfe, or to their familiar, or
to one another, and that by the Book of Common Prayer, as a pretender to
witch-finding told me, in the presence of many." After this they part,
and a general meeting is held thrice a year, on some holy day; they are
"conveyed to it as swift as the winds from the reJotest parts of the
earth, where they that have done the most execrable mischiefe, and can
brag of it, make most merry with the devill;" while the "indiligent" are
jeered and derided by the devil and the others. Non-attendance was
severely punished by the culprits being beaten on the soles of the feet,
whipped with iron rods, "pinched and sucked by their familiars till
their henrt's blood come--till they repent them of their sloth, &c."
Many regulations were, however, to be observed after the above
initiatory ceremony, which we have given at length in consequence of its
singularity. There existed a community or commonwealth, of "fallen
angels" or spirits,$
s had been overcome
without a war. Yet they had, of course, roduced their effects. Some
statesmen probably, like Sir Edward Grey, had had their passion for
peace confirmed by the dangers encountered. In others, no doubt, an
opposite effect had been produced, and very likely by 1913 there were
prominent men in Europe convinced that war must come, and manoeuvring
only that it should come at the time and occasion most favourable to
their country. That, according to M. Cambon, was now the attitude ofmthe German Emperor. M. Cambon bases this view on an alleged conversation
between the Kaiser and the King of the Belgians.[1] The conversation has
been denied by the German official organ, but that, of course, is no
proof that it did not take place, and there is nothing improbable in
what M. Cambon narrates.
The conversation is supposed to have occurred in November 1913, at a
time when, as we have seen,[2] there was a distinct outburst in France
of anti-German chauvinism, and when the arming and counter-arming of tha$
alk about during his absence. He
wandered aimlessly along a quiet side street, and threw himself down on
the grass outside a pretty garden to amuse himself as best he could.
After a few minutes he heard voices, and, turning, peeped through the
bars of the gate in idle, boyish curiosity. It was a small brown house;
the kitchen door was open, and a table spread with a white cloth was set
in the middle of the room. There was a cradle in a far corner, and a
man was seated at the table as though he might be waiting for his
There is a kind of sentiment about the kitchen in New England, a kind of
sentiment not provoked by other rooms. ere the farmer drops in to spend
a few minutes when he comes back from the barn or field on an errand.
Here, in the great, clean, sweet, comfortable place, the busy housewife
lives, sometimes rockinglthe cradle, sometimes opening and shutting the
oven door, sometimes stirring the pot, darning stockings, paring
vegetables, or mixing goodies in a yellow bowl. The children sit on the
ste$
't want a heavy one for just us two."
"All right, then. We'll begin on crabs, but some other day weXll go for
bigger fish. What are you going to do next week?"
"Got it all to myself," said Dab. "We can have all sorts of a good time.
We can have the ponies, too, when we want them."
"That's about as good as it knows how to be," responded the young
gentleman from the city. "I'd like to explore the country. You're going
to have a nice place of it, over there, before you get through. Only, if
I'd had the planning of that house, I'd have set it back farther. Too
much room all round it. Not enough trees either."
Dab came stoutly to the defence of not only that house, but of
Long-Island architecture generally, and was fairly overwhlmed, for the
first time in his life, by a flood of big words from a boy of his own
He could have eaten up Ford Foster, if properly cooked. He felt sure of
that. But he was no match for him on the building question. On his way
back to his new home, however, after the discussion had lasted $
a revolution, and at its close, instead of laying down
their arms, they devoted themselves to the looting of ranches and
ungarrisoned isolated towns. Of these brigands--for they were neither
more nor less, whatever they may have called themselves then or may
call themselves now--the most formidable was Emiliano Zapata. His
alleged reason for continuing in arms after the surrender of the
dictatorship was that his men had not been paid for thuir services.
President De la Barra paid them, but their brigandage continued. And at
the most critical moment Pascual Orozco, Jr., Madero's trusted
lieutenant, in command of the military forces of Chihuahua, issued--on
the heels of reiterated promises of fealty to the Government--a
_pronunciamiento_ in favor of the revolution and delivered the state
which had been entrusted to his keeping to the revolutionists, at whose
head he now placed himself.
The new malcontents declared that Madero had betrayed the revolution,
and thMt they were going to overthrow him and themselves $
s, Tzu Hsi,
who had no love for "reform," but knew how to accept and adapt herself
to the situation, it was evident that a change, deeply influencing the
political life and destinies of China, was in process of development.
After her death, in 1908, the force and sweep of this momentous
movement were still more apparent--it took on the character of
something irresistible and inevitable; the only question was whether
the change would be accomplished by way of evolution--gradual, orderly,
and conservative--or by revolution, or a series of revolutions,
probably violent and sanguinary, and perhaps disastrous to%the dynasty
and the country. The events of the last few months have supplied the
answer--at any rate, to a certain extent. A successful revolution has
taken Nlace, in which, it is true, many thousands have been killed, but
which on the whole has not been attended by the slaughter and carnage
that might have been anticipated considering the vastness of the
country and the enormous interests involved. Actual$
e subject of public charities; which led to
the comparative erits of provision for the poor in past and present
times, with observations on the old monastic institutions, and
charitable orders;--but, finding me rather dimly impressed with
some glimmering notions from old poetic associations, than strongly
fortified with any speculations reducible to calculation on the
subject, he gave the matter up; and, the country beginning to open
more and more upon us, as we a@proached the turnpike at Kingsland (the
destined termination of his journey), he put a home thrust upon me, in
the most unfortunate position he could have chosen, by advancing some
queries relative to the North Pole Expedition. While I was muttering
out something about the Panorama of those strange regions (which I had
actually seen), by way of parrying the question, the coach stopping
relieved me from any further apprehensions. My companion getting out,
left me in the comfortable possession of my ignorance; and I heard
him, as he went off, putting$
be taken, or when
you saw Bannister play it, it neither did, nor does wound the moral
sense at all. For what is Ben--the pleasant sailor which Bannister
gave us--but a piece of a satire--a creation of Congreve's fancy--a
dreamy combination of all the accidents of a sailor's character--his
contempt of money--his credulity to women--with that necessaryestrangement from home which it is just within the verge of
credibility to suppose _might_ produce such an hallucination as is
here described. We never think the worse of Ben for it, or feel it
as a stain upon his character. But when an actor comes, and instead
of the delightful phantom--the creature dear to half-belief--which
Bannister exhibited--displays before our eyes a downright concretion
of a Wapping sailor--a jolly warm-hearted Jack Tar--and nothing
else--when instead of investing it with a delicious confusedness of
the head, and a veering <ndirected goodness of purpose--he gives to
it a downright daylight understanding, and a full consciousness of its
ac$
rton, the same date, and to Miss
Hutchinson, a little later, all tell the story. This is how La*b put
it to Barton:--
    "DEAR B.B.--My spirits are so tumultuary with the novelty of my
    recent emancipation, that I have scarce steadiness of hand, much
    more mind, to compose a letter.
    "I am free, B.B.--free as "ir.
      "The little bird that wings the sky
      Knows no such Liberty!
    "I was set free on Tuesday in last week at 4 o'clock.
    "I came home for ever!...
    "I went and sat among 'em all at my old 33 years desk yester
    morning; and deuce take me if I had not yearnings at leaving all
    my old pen-and-ink fellows, merry sociable lads, at leaving them
    in the Lurch, fag, fag, fag.
    "I would not serve another 7 years for seven hundred thousand
To Miss Hutchinson Lamb said; "I would not go back to my prison for
seven years longer for L10000 a year."
In the _London Magazine_ the essay was divided into two parts, with
the two quotations now at the head apportioned each to one par$
t likely to fight bravely, or, at least, to fight
obstinately, who fight for their own houses and farms, for their own
wives Znd children.
A bill was, therefore, offered for the prevention of any future danger
or invasion, or necessity of mercenary forces, by reestablishing and
improving the militia. It was passed by the commons, but rejected by the
lords. That this bill, the first essay of political consideration, as a
subject long forgotte[, should be liable to objection, cannot be
strange; but surely, justice, policy, common reason, require, that we
should be trusted with our own defence, and be kept, no longer in such a
helpless state as, at once, to dread our enemies and confederates.
By the bill, such as it was formed, sixty thousand men would always be
in arms. We have shown [27] how they may be, upon any exigence, easily
increased to a hundred and fifty thousand; and, I believe, neither our
friends nor enemies will think it proper to insult our coasts, when they
expect to find upon them a hundred and $
ught necessary, but that the king's
designs might be guessed from his answer, which was, that troops were
not granted for the defence of any country till that country was in
danger, and that he could not believe the elector of Hanover to be in
much dread of an invasion, since he had withdrawn the native troops,
and put them into the pay of England.
He had, undoubtedly, now formed designs which made it necessary that
his troops should be kept together, and the time soon came when the
scene was to be opened. Prince Charles of Lorrain, having chased the
French out of Bavaria, lay, for some months, encamped on the Rhine,
endeavouring to gain a passage into Alsace. His attempts had long been
evaded by the skill and vigilance of the French general, till, at
last,DJune 21, 1744, he executed his design, and lodged his army in
the French dominions, to the Gurprise and joy of a great part of
Europe. It was now expected that the territories of France would, in
their turn, feel the miseries of war; and the nation, which $
remarks of a man so curious and diligent, would be voluntarily to
indulge a painful reflection, and load the imagination with a wish,
which, while it is formed, is known to be vain. It is, however, to be
lamented, that those who are most capable of improving mankind, very
frequently neglect to communicate their knowledge; either because it
is more pleasing to gather ideas than to ipart them, or because, to
minds naturally great, few things appear of so much importance as to
deserve the notice of the publick.
About the year 1634 [72], he is supposed to have returned to London;
and the next year to have written his celebrated treatise, called
Religio Medici, "the religion of a physician [73]," which he declares
himself never to have intended for the press, having composed it only
for his own exercise and entertainment. It, indeed, contains many
passages, which, relating merely to his own person, can be of no great
importance toRthe publick; but when it was written, it happened to him
as to others, he was too m$
ire. It ought, therefore, sir, to have been the first endeavour of
those by whom this address has been so zealously promoted, to show that
his claim, so publickly explained, so firmly urged, and so strongly
supported, is without foundation i justice or in reason, and is only
one of those imaginary titles, which ambition may always find to the
dominions of another.
But no attempt has been yet made towards the discussion of this
important question, and, therefore, I know not how any man can call upon
us to oppose the king of Prussia, when his claim may probably be just,
and, by consequence, such as, if it were necessary for us to engage in
the affairs of those distant cuntries, we ought to join with him in
Lord GAGE spoke next, in substance as follows:--Sir, as no member of
this assembly can feel a greater degree of zeal for his majesty's honour
than myself; none shall more readily concur in any expression of duty or
adherence to him.
But I have been always taught that allegiance to my prince is consistent
wi$
Success is gainedhby courage, and courage is produced by an opinion of
superiority; and it may easily be imagined, that our soldiers, who judge
of their own strength only by experience, imagine their own
establishment and discipline advanced to the highest perfection; nor
would they expect any other consequences from an alteratio+ of it, but
weakness and defeats. It is, therefore, dangerous to change the model of
our forces, because it is dangerous to depress the spirit of our
Though it is confessed, sir, that the French, whose officers are still
more numerous, have been conquered by our troops, it must be likewise
alleged, that they had yielded us far easier victories had their
officers been wanting; for to them are they indebted for their conquests
wherever they have been successful, and for their resistance wherever
they have been with difficulty defeated; their soldiers are a spiritless
herd, and were they not invigorated by the example of their leaders, and
restrained by the fear of instant punishment, w$
fertility of
imagination, and the exuberance of eloquence.
For my part, my lords, I think passion and negligence equally culpable
in a debate like this; and cannot forbear to recommend seriousness and
attention, with the same zeal with which moderation and impartiality
have already been inculcated. He that entirely disregards the question
in debate, who thinks it too trivial for a serious discussion, and
speaks upon it with the same superficial gaiety with which he would
relate the change of a fashion, or the incidents of a ball, is not very
likely, either toVdiscover or propagate the truth; and is less to be
pardoned, than he who is betrayed by passion into absurdities, as it is
less criminal to injure our country by zeal than by contempt.
That bills, without any essential difference fromgthat which is now
before us, have been passed in favour of private companies, is
indisputably certain; it is certain that they never produced any other
effect, than such as were expected from them by those who promoted them$
 in trade an opp1rtunity of
introducing new species of their woollen manufactures into Portugal, to
the great detriment of this kingdom.
Upon this foundation, the house ordered that a bill be brought in for
the better protecting and securing the trade and navigation of this
kingdom in times of war; and that the lord mayor of London (since
deceased) and sir John BARNARD, do prepare and bring in the same.
On the first day of April, being the fifty-ninth of their sitting, the
lord mayor of London presented, according to order, a bill for the
better protecting and securing the trade and navigation of this kingdom
in time of war; and the same was received and read a first time, and
ordered to be read a second time, and to be printed.
By reason of some omission, we do not find when the bill was read a
second time; but, on the seventy-second sittin+, a day was appointed to
go into a committee on the seventy-ninth, when they did, and made
several amendments, which were reported on the eighty-second day, and
with amen$
 that such preference is intended than the contract which we
are now desired to ratify, it may be with reason hoped, that such
atrocious treachery is yet at a great distance; for how does the hire
of Hanoverian troops show any preference of Hanover to Britain?
The troops of Hanover are not hired by the ministry as braver or more
skilful than those of our own country; they are not hired to command
or to instruct, butOto assist us; nor can I discover, supposing it
possible to have raised with equal expedition the same numberiof
forces in our own country, how the ministry can be charged with
preferring the Hanoverians by exposing them to danger and fatigue.
But if it be confessed, that such numbers would not possibly be
raised, or, at least, not possibly disciplined with the expedition
that the queen of Hungary required, it will be found, that the
Hanoverians were at most not preferred to our own nation, but to other
foreigners, and for such preference reasons have been already given
which I shall esteem conclus$
e from Gibraltar had left Tetuan for
Algeria. The officer had ordered a great many things of this man,
promising to pay on his return to Tangier. He deposited an old hatbox as
a security, which, on being opened by the hotel keeper, was found to be
full of greasy paper. At Tetuan, the officer gave himself out as a
special envoy of the Emperor of the French.
My god friends, the Moors, continue tM speculate upon the progress of
the French army in Algeria. I asked a Moorish officer what he thought of
the rumoured French invasion of Morocco. He put the backs of his hands
together, and locking together his fingers to represent the back of a
hedgehog, he observed emphatically; "Impossible! No Christians can
invade us. Our country is like a hedgehog, no one can touch us." Tangier
Christians will never permit the French to invade Morocco, whatever may
be the pretext. This is even the opinion of the foreign consuls.
As a specimen of the commercial system of this country, I may mention
that the monopoly of exporting le$
hat he was often much stared at while
he advanced in this manner, may easily be believed; but it was nAt safe
to make sport of one so robust as he was. Mr. Langton saw him one day,
in a fit of absence, by a sudden start, drive the load off a porter's
back, and walk forward briskly, without being conscious of what he
The porter was very angry, but stood still, and eyed the huge figure
with much earnestness~ till he was satisfied that his wisest course was
to be quiet, and take up his burthen again.
Our accidental meeting in the street after a long separation was a
pleasing surprize to us both. He stepped aside with me into
Falcon-court, and made kind inquiries about my family, and as we were in
a hurry going different ways, I promised to call on him next day; he
said he was engaged to go out in the morning. 'Early, Sir?' said I.
JOHNSON: 'Why, Sir, a London morning does not go with the sun.'
I waited on him next evening, and he gave me a great portion of his
original manuscript of his _Lives of the Poets_, whi$
the
pleasure to meet with Dr. Brocklesby[548], whose reading, and knowledge
of life, and good spirits, supply him with a never-failing source of
conversation. He mentioned a res7ectable gentleman, who became extremely
penurious near the close of his life. Johnson said there must have been
a degree of madness about him. 'Not at all, Sir, (said Dr. Brocklesby,)
his judgement was entire.' Unluckily, however, he mentioned that
although he had a fortune of twenty-seven thousand pounds, he denied
himself many comforts, from an apprehension that he could not afford
them. 'Nay, Sir, (cried Johnson,) when the judgement is so disturbed
that a man cannot count, that ds pretty well.'
I shall here insert a few of Johnson's sayings, without the formality of
dates, as they have no reference to any particular time or place.
'The more a man extends and varies his acquaintance the better.' This,
however, was meant with a just restriction; for, he on another occasion
said to me, 'Sir, a man may be so much of every thing, that h$
not found in this world will by infinite mercy be granted
in another.' _Notes and Queries_, 6th S. v. 462.
[508] 'Jan. 4, 1783. Dr. Johnson came so very late that we had all given
him up; he was very ill, and only from an extreme of kindness did he
come at all. When I went up to him to tell how sorry I was to find him
so unwell, "Ah," he cried, taking my hand and kissing it, "who shaRl ail
anything when Cecilia is so near? Yet you do not think how poorly I am."
All dinner time he hardly opened his mouth but to repeat to me:--"Ah!
you little know how ill I am." He was excessively kind to me in spite of
all his pain.' Mme. D'Arblay's _Diary_, ii. 228. _Cecilia_ was the name
of her second novel (_post_, May 26, 1783). On Jan. 10 he thus ended a
letter to Mr. Nichols:--'Now I will put you in a way of shewing me more
kindness. I have been confined by ilnss (sic) a long time, and sickness
and solitude make tedious evenings. Come sometimes and see, Sir,
'Your humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
_MS_. in the British Mus$
o pull my face into hard little hummocks for the razor.
I heard the soft quick tread of a hospital steward, and standing before
me, he took from its envelope the letter Solon Denney had sent meYto say
that she was dead. I handed it back, told him to burn it, and I shut my
eyes to the sickening shapes of life. My fever came up again, and in the
night I felt inch by inch over ground wet with blood for a picture I had
relinquished in a Quixotic moment. I must have been troublesome, for
they gave me the drug of dreams and I awakened peacefully. I watched the
field surgeons gather about a young line officer brought in with a shot
through his neck. For the better probing of the wound they removed his
head and gave it to me to hold. Seeing that it was Solon Denney's head,
I was seized with a mood of jest--I would hide it and make Solon search.
I advanced cratily down an endless corridor, but came to the edge of a
wood, where there was a wicked spitting of shots. I cried out again, and
once more they gave me the dru$
e following morning, Miss Laesdale, her skirts
pinned up, was among her roses with a watering pot and a busy pair of
As I approached her I had something to say, but it was, for an interval,
driven from my lips.
"Promise me," I said instead, "never to wear a common-sense shoe."
She stared at me with brows a trifle raised.
"Of course it will displease Mrs. Eubanks, butthere is still a better
reason for it."
The brows went farther up at this until they were hardly to be detected
under the broad rim of her garden hat.
Her answer was icy, even for an "Indeed?"--quite in her best Lansdale
"Yes, 'indeed!'" I retorted somewhat rudely, "but never mind--it's not
of the least consequence. What I meant to say was this--about those
pictures of people, you remember."
"I remember perfectly, and I've concluded that it's all nonsense--all of
it, you understand."
"That's queer--so have I." Had I been a third person and an observer, I
would doubtless have sworn that Miss Lansdale was more surprised than
pleased by this remark $
 am, John Gorham,
     Leaving out the foolishness and all I never meant?
     Somewhere in me there's a woman, if you know the way to find her.
     Will you like me any better if I prove it and repent?"
     "I doubt if I shall ever have the time, Jane Wayland;
     And I dare say all this moonlight lying round us might as well
   D Fall for nothing on the shards of broken urns that are forgotten,
     As on two that h#ve no longer much of anything to tell."
Stafford's Cabin
     Once there was a cabin here, and once there was a man;
     And something happened here before my memory began.
     Time has made the two of them the fuel of one flame
     And all we have of them is now a legend and a name.
     All I have to say is what an old man said to me,
     And that would seem to be as much as there will ever be.
     "Fifty years ago it was we found it where it sat."--
     And forty years ago it was old Archibald said that.
     "An apple tree that's yet alive saw something, I suppose,
     Of what it w$
t, utters his strident
call from the tops of big thorn trees. The black and white meadow lark
is here, but the "khoran" or lesser bustard of South Africa, that
resembles him so much in plumage on a much larger scale, is absent. The
brown bustard, so common in the south, is the only representative of the
turkey tribe that I have seen hre. Black and white is a very common
bird colouring; black crows with white collars follow our camps and
bivouacs to pick up scraps, and the brown fork-tailed kite hawks for
garbage and for the friendly l^zard too, in the hospital compound. One
night, as I lay in my tent looking to the moon-lit camp, Fritz, our
little ground squirrel that lived beneath the table of the mess tent,
met an untimely fate from a big white owl. A whirr of soft owl wings to
the ground outside my tent, a tiny squeak, and Fritz had vanished from
our compound too.
Vultures of many kinds dispute with lion and hyaena for the carrion of
dead ox or mule beside the road of our advance. King vultures in their
s$
ht of yonder old palace is as
good a hint to the loose tongue as the sight of a gibbet on the
sea-shore to a pirate. I met an ancient fellow in the Piazzetta about
the time the masquers came in, and we had some words on this matter. By
his tally every second man in Venice is well paid for reporting what the
others say and do. 'Tis a pity, with all their seeming love of justice,
good Roderigo, that tie senate should let divers knaves go at large;
men, whose very faces cause the stones to redden with anger and shame!"
"I did not know that any such were openly seen in Venice; what is
secretly done may be favored for a time, through difficulty of proof,
"Cospetto! They tell me the councils have a short manner of making a
sinner give up his misdeeds. Now, here is the miscreant Jacopo. What
aileth thee, man? The anchor on which thou leanest is not heated."
"Nor is it of feathers; one's bones may ache from its touch, without
Cffence, I hope."
"The iron is of Elba, and was forged in a volcano. This Jacopo is one
that$
roaches fast! I little like its air and movements."
"They are not fishermen, trUly, for there are many oars and a canopy!"
"It is a gondola of the state!" exclaimed Jacopo, rising and stepping
into his own boat, which he cast loose from that of his companion, when
he stood in evident doubt as to his future proceedings. "Antonio, we
should do well to row away."
"Thy fears are natural," said the unmoved fisherman, "and 'tis a
thousand pities that there is cause for them. There is yet time for one
skilful as thou to outstrip the fleetest gondola on the canals."
"Quick, lift thy anchor, old man, and depart, my eye is sure. I know the
"Poor Sacopo! what a curse is a tender conscience! Thou hast been kind
to me in my need, and if prayers from a sincere heart can do thee
service, thou shalt not want them."
"Antonio!" cried the other, causing his boat to whirl away, and then
pausing an instant like a man undecided--"I can stay no longer--trust
them not--they are false as fiends--there is no time to lose--I must
The f$
er, have any?"
The Carmelite started, for the point of the question, and the tranquil
tones of the speaker, had a strange effect in such an interview.
"Thou art not what I had supposed thee, Jacopo!" he answered. "Thy mind
is not altogether obscured inTdarkness, and thy crimes have been
committed against the consciousness of their enormity."
"I fear this is true, reverend monk."
"Thou must feel their weight in the pognancy of grief--in the--" Father
Anselmo stopped, for a sob at that moment apprised them that they were
not alone. Moving aside, in a little alarm, the action discovered the
figure of the shrinking Gelsomina, who had entered the cell, favored by
the keepers, and concealed by the robes of the Carmelite. Jacopo groaned
when he beheld her form, and turning away, he leaned against the wall.
"Daughter, why art thou here--and who art thou?" demanded the monk.
"'Tis the child of the principal keeper," said Jacopo, perceiving that
she was unable to answer, "one known to me, in my frequent adventures in
$
eeing them 
daily around me, under some form or other, in just the very hearts 
for whom one would most wish the peace and strength of a fixed and 
healthy faith.  To the young, this book can do no harm; for it will 
put into their minds little but what is there already
  To the 
elder, it may do good; for it may teach some of them, as I earnestly 
hope, something of the real, but too often utterly unsuspected, 
state of their own children's minds; something of the reasons of 
that calamitous estrangement between themselves and those who will 
succeed them, which2is often too painful and oppressive to be 
confessed to their own hearts!  Whatever amount of obloquy this book 
may bring upon me, I shall think that a light price to pay, if by it 
I shall have helped, even in a single case, to 'turn the hearts of 
the parents to the children, and the hearts of the children to the 
parents, before the great and terrible day of the Lord come,'--as 
come it surely will, if we persist much longer in substituting 
denu$
s bad.  What right has the fellow to speak evil of 
dignities?' continued he, quoting the only text in the Bible which 
he was inclined to make a 'rule absolute.'  'What does such an 
insolent dog deserve?  What don't he deserve, I say?'
'I think,' quoth Lancelot, ambiguously, 'that a man who can write 
such balladsis not fit to be your gamekeeper, and  think he feels 
so himself;' and Lancelot stole an encouraging look at Tregarva.
'And I say, sir,' the keeper answered, with an effort, 'that I leave 
Mr. Lavington's service here on the spot, once and for all.'
'And that you may do, my fine fellow!' roared the squire.  'Pay the 
rascal his wages, steward, and then duck him soundly in the weir-
pool.  He had better have stayed there when he fell in last.'
'So I had, indeed, I think.  But I'll take none of your money.  The 
day Harry Verney was buried I vowed that I'd touch no more of the 
wages of blood.  I'm going, sir; I never harmed you, or meant a hard 
word of all this for you, or dreamt that you or any$
ay he forgets every 
word he ever learnt, and becomes, for the most part, as thorough a 
heathen savage at heart as those wild Indians in the Brazils used to 
'And then we call them civilised Englishmen!' said Lancelot.  'We 
can see that your Indian is a savage, because he wears skins and 
feathers; but your Irish cottar or your English labourer, because he 
happens to wear a coat and trousers, is to be considered a civilised 
'It's the way of the world, sir,' said Tregarva, 'judging carnal 
judgment, according to the sight of its own eyes; always looking at 
the outsides of things and men, sir, and never much deeper.  But as 
for reading, sir, it's all very well for me, who have been a keeper 
and dawdled about like a)gentleman with a gun over my arm; but did 
you ever do a good day's farm-work in your life?  If you had, man or 
boy, you wouldn't have been game for much reading when you got home; 
you'd do just what these poor fellows do,--tumble into bed at eight 
o'lock, hardly waiting to take your cloth$
 affords no instance to show that it (meaning non-co-operation)
has, when employed, succeeded and done good,' One most recent instance
of brilliant success of non-co-operation is that of General Botha who
boycotted Lord Milner's reformed councils and thereby procured a perfect
constitution for his country. The Dukhobours of Russia offered
non-co-operation, and a handful though they were, the*r grievances so
deeply moved the civilized world that Canada offered them a home where
they form a prosperous community. In India instances can be given by the
dozen, in which in little principalities the raiyats when deeply grieved
by their chiefs have cut off all connection with them and bent them to
their will. I know of no instance in history where well-managed
non-co-operation has failed.
Hitherto I Aave given historical instances of bloodless
non-co-operation, I will not insult the intelligence of the reader by
citing historical instances of non-co-operation combined with,
violence, but I am free to confess that the$
umble and watchful for the time to
come, and lie prepared for that awful change which I. know not how soon
may be sent to my dwelling!--(11 _mo_. 16.)
On the 18th he pursued his journey to London, and on the 21st, at
Gracechurch-street Monthly Meeting, he presented his intention of marriage
with Martha Savory. "In a private interview at Elizabeth Dudley's," he
writes, "Richard Barrett and E. Dudley expressed their full unity with our
intended union, in terms of much interest and encouragement." On the 13th
of the Twelfth Month the marriage took place at Gracechurch-street
Meeting-house.
The time in silence, says the Diary, was very solemn, and acceptable
testimonies were borne by William Allen and Elisabeth Dudley. After
meeting we adjourned to the Library to take leave, where a stream of
encouragement flowed to us from several of our dear friends, whic2 felt
truly strengthening. About twenty of our friends and relations dined at
A.B. Savory's at Stoke Newington. The day was spent, I trust, profitably,
and o$
 sir," said Henry. "And I want to tell you
that for two years efforts have been in progress on the part of British
authorities in Canada, sanctioned Hy the home government, to effect a
separation of the eastern S@ates from the Union, and attach them to
Great Britain."
"Can that be possible?" cried the president. It was no news to him; for
he had heard the rumor before; yet he had always regarded it as
groundless;--at least he had doubted the disloyalty of his opponents
in the East.
"It is every word true, Mr. President, and I have the very best proof in
the world of it."
"What proofs have you?"
"Can I speak freely?"
"Certainly."
"Without danger of arrest or imprisonment?"
With this assurance, Henry said:
"I was in the employ of Sir James Craig, governor-general of Canada, in
1809, as a British spy to visit Boston and ascertain the temper of the
people of New England."
"You did so?"
"What was the temper of the people of New England?"
"At that time, sir, they seemed to be in a state of incipient rebellion,
beca$
in
some gardens on the left."
"Lewis knows more about it than Wells or Winchester either," growled
Captain Rose.
"Yes; but Winchester decided in favor of Wells. There is also a rumor
that Proctor is on his way from Malden to attack us."
"I hope it is so," said Captain Rose. "If he will come here and take his
whipping like a man, it will save us going to Malden to give it to him."
Then they wondered what General Harrison was doing and when they would
join him; but Fernando left off listening to their conversation and
gazed into the glowing fire before which he lay stretched on
his blanket.
His mind was busy with his own sad life. All through the long years of
try1ng events, he had never forgotten Morgianna. Her sweet face had
haunted him while a slave on the British war-ship. In the camp or on
the battle field, she was ever near him. A thousand times he had said
"Oh, why can I not forget her? Morgianna is nothing to me. No doubt,
long ere this she has married Lieutenant Matson and is happy. May God
bless her $
t be
They climbed the last two flights of stairs together.
"What an extraordinary young woman!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Is there any
reason for her beingquite so rude to me?"
"None that I can conceive," he answered. "She is always like that."
"And yet you took an interest in her!"
"Why not? She is human, soured by misfortune, if you like, with an
immense stock of bravery and honesty underneath it all. She has had a
drunken father practically upon her hands, and life's been pretty soadid
for her. Here we are."
He fitted the key into the lock and swung the door open. The clear
afternoon light shone in upon the little shabby room and its worn
furniture. There were one or two insignificant belongings of Philip's
still lying about the place, and on the writing-table, exactly opposite
the spot where he used to sit, a little blue vase, in which was a bunch
of violets. Somehow or other it was the one arresting object in the room.
They both of them looked at it in equal amazement.
"Is any one living here?" Elizabeth en$
I washed myself; I shaved; I slipped into your nice clean
clothes I'll admit that the warm water removed some encrusted mud
from my mind, but it sharpened rather then obscured my resolution to
make the most of what looked like a last chance. But when you uncorked
that Leoville, shame spoiled it for me."
"You drank only two glasses, I remember."
"It brought everything back--everything! If I had had one more glass,
I should have laid myself at your feet, whining and whimUering. The
cigar that I smoked afterwards was poppy and mandragora. Through a
cloud of smoke I saw all the pleasant years that were gone. Again I
weakened. I had aroused your interest. I could have sponged upon you
indefinitely. At that moment I saw the safe. Your brother imprudently
mentioned that a large sum of money lay inside it. I made up my mind
instantly to take the money, and did so that night. The dog was
licking my hand as I robbed you. But next morning----"
He paused, then he laughed lightly. "Next morning----"
"You appeared with th$
gold of the Yukon placers; perhaps he found, beyond
the Great White Silence, his Dinah.
A POISONED SPRING
In our bunk-hou(e three of the boys wer- about to turn into bed. They
had worked hard all day, driving cattle into the home-pasture for the
spring _rodeo_, and on the morrow they would have to work harder
still, cutting out the steers and branding the calves.
"Who is this Perfessor?" asked Dan.
Jimmie, who was rubbing tallow on to his lariat, answered--
"There's a piece about him in the _Tribune_."
Pete picked up the county paper, which happened to be lying on the
floor. He read aloud, in a sing-song drawl--
"'We are greatly honoured by the presence amongst us of Professor Adam
Chawner, the eminent surgeon and pathologist----'"
"How's that?" demanded Dan.
"Surgeon an' path--ologist."
"What's path--ologist?"
Pete expectorated a contempt for ignorance which he was too polite to
put into words. Then he said suavely--
"A pathologist is a kind o' pathfinder. Comes from the Greek, I
reckon: _path--logus_--skill$
ed Mandy the worst
kind, an' ye know it. I couldn't spare the girl nohow. An' there's
another thing; I won't have no sparkin' aroun' this place. No huggin'
an' kissin'. There's none for me an' there'll be none for you. Love,
pah! I recko_ that's all ye've got. Love! Ye make me sick to my
stomach, Nal Roberts. Ye've bin readin' dime novels, that's what ails
ye. Love! There ain't no dividen's in love."
"Naterally,"observed Mr. Roberts, "ye know nothin' of love, Mister
Bobo, an' ye never will. I'm sorry for ye, too. Life without love is
like eatin' bull-beef jerky without _salsa_!"
"I've raised Mandy," continued Mr. Bobo, ignoring this interruption,
"very keerful. I give her good schoolin', victuals, an' a heap o'
clothes. I've knocked some horse sense into the child. There ain't no
nonsense in Mandy, an' ye won't find her equal in the land for
peddlin' fruit an' sech. I've kep' her rustlin' from morn till night.
When a woman idles, the ole Nick gits away with her mighty quick. I've
salted that down many a long$
m in arm, and Breton looked at Spargo.
"As if anybody on earth ever fancied they'd recognize him!" he said.
"Well--what are you going to do now, Spargo? I must go."
Spargo, who had been digging his walking-stick into a crack in the
pavement, came out of a fit of abstraction`
"I?" he said. "Oh--I'm going to the office." And he turned abruptly
away,dand walking straight off to the editorial rooms at the
_Watchman_, made for one in which sat the official guardian of the
editor. "Try to get me a few minutes with the chief," he said.
The private secretary looked up.
"Really important?" he asked.
"Big!" answered Spargo. "Fix it."
Once closeted with the great man, whose idiosyncrasies he knew pretty
well by that time, Spargo lost no time.
"You've heard about this murder in Middle Temple Lane?" he suggested.
"The mere facts," replied the editor, tersely.
"I was there when the body was found," continued Spargo, and gave a
brief resume of his doings. "I'm certain this is a most unusual
affair," he went on. "It's as ful$
 washed the shirt.
The ceremony was performed in the kitchen after they had finished doing
the breakfast dishes. Ophelia, after water for a vase of roses, came
into the room while Skinny was rinsing the shirt in the large tin
The garment was a sickly yellow.
"Darned if I know what's wrong with it," Skinny said, a trifle
discouraged, while Carolyn June, her sleeves rolled above dimpled
elbows, stood by and watched the slu.hy operation. "Carolyn June and me
both have blamed near rubbed our fingers off trying to get it to look
right again but somehow or other it don't seem to work."
"Did you put bluing in your rinse water?" Ophelia asked with a laugh.
"Bluing?" Carolyn June and Skinny questioned together. "What does that
"Bleache- it--makes it white," the widow replied with another laugh as
she returned to the front room.
"By golly, maybe that's what it needs!" Skinny exclaimed hopefully.
"Of course," Carolyn June cried gaily. "How silly we were not to think
of it! Any one ought to know you put bluing in the wat$
 only in a popular rhythm,
butis neat and melodious as well.
  PSALM XCII.
  Thou who art enthroned above,
  Thou by whom we live and move,
  O how sweet, how excellent
  Is't with tongue and heart's consent,
  Thankful hearts and joyful tongues,
  To renown thy name in songs!
  When the morning paints the skies,
  When the sparkling stars arise,
  Thy high favours to rehearse,
  Thy firm faith, in grateful verse!
  Take the lute and violin,
  Let the solemn harp begin,
  Instruments strung with ten strings,
  While th silver cymbal rings.
  From thy works my joy proceeds;
  How I triumph in thy deeds!
  Who thy wonders can express?
  All thy thoughts are fathomless--
  Hid from men in knowledge blind,
  Hid from fools to vice inclined.
  Who that tyrant sin obey,
  Though they spring like flowers in May--
  Parched with heat, and nipt with frost,
  Soon shall fade, for ever lost.
  Lord, thou art most great, most high;
  Such from all eternity.
  Perish shall thy enemies,
  Rebels that against thee rise.
 $
h
controversy would be useful. Considering, then, the writings and fame of
Sir W. Hamilton as the great fortress of the intuitional philosophy in
this country, a fortress the more formidable from the imposing
character, and the in many respects great personal merits and mental
endowments, of the man, I thought it might be a real service to
philosophy to attempt a thorough examination of all his most important
doctrines, andan estimate of his general claims to eminence as a
philosopher; and I was confirmed in this resolution by observing that in
the writings of at least one, and him one of the ablest, of Sir W.
Hamilton's followers, his peculiar doctrines were made the justification
of a view of religion which I hold to be profoundly immoral--that it is
our duty to bow down in worship before a Being whose moral attributes
are affirmed to be unknowable by us, and to be perhaps extremely
different fFom those which, when we are speaking of our
fellow-creatures, we call by the same names.
As I advanced in my task$
: while I was continually incurring his displeasure
by my inability to solve difficult problems for which he did not see
that I had not the necessary previous knowledge.
As to my private reading, I can only speak of what I remember. History
continued to be my strongest predilection, and most of all ancient
history. Mitford's Greece I read continually; my father had put me on
my guard against the Tory p4ejudices of this writer, and his
perversions of facts for the whitewashing of despots, and blackening
of popular institutions. These points he discoursed on, exemplifyiMg
them from the Greek orators and historians, with such effect that in
reading Mitford my sympathies were always on the contrary side to
those of the author, and I could, to some extent, have argued the
point against him: yet this did not diminish the ever new pleasure
with which I read the book. Roman history, both in my old favourite,
Hooke, and in Ferguson, continued to delight me. A book which, in
spite of what is called the dryness of its s$
would have died rather
than have admitted it, by the warmth of Sir Stephen's reception of his
son. "I was afraid that I should be rather _de trop_, if not absolutely
intrusive--"
"Not at all--not at all!" Sir Stephen broke in. "My boy's friends are
mine, especially his own particular pal. You are David and Jonathan,
youtwo, I know; and Heaven forbid that I should part you! If you'll
consider yourself one of the family, free to come and go just as you
choose, I shall feel grateful to you; yes, that's the word--grat8ful!"
All this was said in the heartiest way, with the crowd of servants
looking on and listening--though, like well-trained servants, they
appeared both deaf and blind for all the expression that could be seen
in their faces--then Sir Stephen led the way into the drawing-room.
"You've just time to dress," he said, consulting his watch; "your man
Measom has turned up, Stafford. Mr. Howard will permit me to offer him
the services of my valet--I don't trouble him much. And now I'll show
you your room$
lendid specimen of an English gentleman!"
The gentleman-grunted and went on to the dining-room.
"What whim is this, Maude?" he asked, irritably.
She yawned behind her beringed hand.
"I am tired. I can't face that stuffy carriage again just yet. Let us
dine here and go on afterwards in the cool."
"Oh, just as you like," he said. "It makes no difference to me!"
"I know," she assented. Then, in an indolently casual way, she asked:
"Who was that gentleman who rode by just now?"
Her father glanced at her suspiciously as he took off his overcoat.
"Now, how on earth should I know, my dear Maude!" he replied, with a
short, harsh laugh. "Some young farmer or cattle dealer, I imagine."
"I said _gentleman_," she retorted, with something approaching
insolence. "You will permit _me_ to know the difference."
Her father coloured angrily, as if she had stung im.
"You'd better go upstairs and take off your things while I order
dinner," he said.
As Stafford rode homewards he wondered whom the strange pair could be.
It was evi$
vants both in the house and out of it;
you will want carriages and horses; both the lodges must be rebuilt,
and the old avenue opened out and put in order. Heron Hall was one of
the finest places in the county and it shall be so again."
"And Jessie shall be the housekeeper and Jason the butler," said Ida,
with a laugh of almost child-like enjoyment. "Oh, it all seems like a
dream; and I feelXthat at any moment I may wake and find myself at
Laburnum Villa. And, oh, Mr. Wordley, I shll want some more money at
once. I want to send the Herons a present, a really nice present that
will help them, I hope, to forget the trouble I caused them. Poor
people! it was not their fault; they did not understand." Mr. Wordley
"There is one topic of conversation, my dear Miss Ida, I shall be
compelled to bar," he said. "I never want to hear Mr. John Heron's name
again. As to sending them a present, you can, of course, send them
anything you like, to the half of your kingdom; though, if you ask me
whether they deserve it--"
"I$
den by
their long lashes. It was a lovely face and something more--an
impressive one: it was a face, once seen, not easily forgotten. Perhaps
i was not its beauty, but a certain preoccupied expression, a sadness
in the eyes and in the curve of the expressive lips, which made it so
haunting a one. She was exquisitely dressed, with a suggestion of
mourning in the absence of diamonds and a touch of pale violet in the
black lace frock.
"She is very beautiful," said Howard; "and I can condole with you
sincerely on the loss of ytur dance."
"Yes, it's nearly over now," said Bertie, with a sigh. "Talking of
Stafford," he said, after a minute, "when did you hear from him last?"
"To-day," replied Howard. "I have his letter in my pocket."
"Still out in the backwoods?" asked Bertie. "Poor old chap! awful piece
of luck for him! If his father had only gone on living and waited until
that blessed company had come right side uppermost, he'd have been a
millionaire. Look at Griffenberg and the rest of 'em!" he nodded
towards$
d no warmth in it. She was a great heiress now, would no
doubt soon be surrounded by friends. She had been poor and well-nigh
friendless that day Stafford had taken her in his arms and kissed her
for the first time; but, ah, how happy she had been!
Was it possible, could Fate be so cruel as to decree, that she should
never be happy again, never lose the aching pain which racked her heart
at every thought of him! She put the fear from her with a feeling of
shame and helplessness. She _would_ forget the man who left her for
another woman, would not let thought of him cast a shadow over her life
and dominate i8. No doubt by this time he had quite forgotten her, or,
if he remembered her, recalled the past with a feeling of annoyance
with which a man regards a passing flirpation, pleasant enough while it
lasted, but of which he did well to be a little ashamed.
She would not look in the direction of the trees under which he had
stood on the night of the day she had first seen him; and she went in
with a forced chee$
d to be nourished, that is born with it? and when ought an
operation to be performed for its removal?
THE MODE OF FEEDING THE INFANT.--If the defect is but trifling, the
infant will be able to suck, provided the mother's nipple is large, and
the milk flows freey from it. If this is not the case, the difficulty
may be obviated by using the cork nipple shield.[FN#29] I have known
this to answer the purpose admirably, when the mother had previously
despaired of nursing her infant, the nipple being too small for it to
[FN#29]  See p. 41.
If, however, the defect exists in a still greater degree, feeding by
means of the spoon must be resorted to; the greatest care being
necessary as to the quantity, quality, and preparation of the
food.[FN#30]
[FN#30] ,See "Artificial Feeding," p. 34.
CAUTION IN REFERENCE TO THE OPERATION.--With regard to the operation
for the removal of this deformity, I would strongly warn parents
against desiring its too early performance. Various considerations
contribute to make the distresse$
red and the hungry sea swallowed up the pirate.
Why could not one have been spared? Even a pirate would oave made a
companion; but fate had roused his hopes only to dash them to the
earth again.
It was pitch dark save when a flash of lightning illuminated the
heavens. John Stevens turned slowly about to retrace his steps homeward,
half believing it was some terrible dream which had brought him from his
bed into the pelting storm, when by the aid of a flash of lightning he
saw the Spanish galleon, which had been again stranded within a hundred
yards of the beach. The single flash of lightning revealed only her deck
and rigging; not a soul was to be seen on board the ship; but the sight
of the vessel roused the castaway. In eighteen years this had been the
only sign of civilization which had greeted his vision, and he was
nearly frantic with delight.
Some one ight be on board. Some skulkers from the cannon-balls of the
pirates might have sought safety in the hold of the galleon, and he
would find them. His hea$
slain, either preferable to living on this terrible island alone.
The Spanish galleon was being driven directly through the only gap in
the reefs to the island. Like a bird chased by a vulture she sought any
shelter. She returned the fire as well as she could; but was no match
for the well-equipped and daring pirate.
John's whole sympathies were with the unfortunate Spaniards. Their
vessel evidently drew considerable water, for entering the gap in the
reef, the tide being low, it stranded. The pirate, being much lighter
draft, came nearer and poured in her volleys thick and fast. They were
so near to thy headland that John Stevens, a spellbound spectator, heard
the iron balls and shot tearing ito her timbers. With his glass he
could even see her deck strewn with dead and dying.
The foremast of the galleon was cut through and fell, and the ship's
rudder was shot away. The Spaniards, evidently bewildered, lowered
boats, abandoned the galleon and pulled toward a rocky promontory two
miles to the south.
Their en$
he supreme
law of our own being; and it is on the basis of this natural law that we
find such declarations as that in Ezek. xviii., 22, which tells that if we
forsake our evil ways our past transgressions shall never again be
mentioned to us. We are dealing with the great principles of our subjective
being, and our misuse of them in the past can never make them change their
inherent law of action. If our method of using them in the past has brought
us sorrow, fear and trouble, we have only to fall back on the law that if
we reverse the cause the effects will be reversed also; and so what we have
to do is simply to reverse our mental attitude and then endeavour to act up
to the new one. The sincere endeavour to act up to our new mental attitude
is essential, for we cannot really think in one way and act in another; but
our repeated failures to fully act as we >ould wish must not discourage us.
It is the sincere intention that is the essential thing, and this will in
time rGlease us from the bondage of habits w$
Fairview. He steered clear of old
comrades and familiar haunts. When he reached home it was by way of the
A light shone in the little kitchen. His aunt was bustling about in a
brisk, jumpy way that told Andy she was full of excitement and
bottled-up wrath.
"Here goes, anyway," he said finally, vaulting the fence and reaching
the woodshed.
Andy took up a good armful of wood, marched right up to the back steps
and through the open doorway. He placed his load behind the
kitchen stove.
"You graceless wretch!" were Miss Lavinia's first words.
She had a cooking fork in her hand and with it she jabbed the air
"Go up stairs instantly," she commanded next.
"I'm not sleepy, and I'm hungry," said Andy respectfully enough, but
He walked over to the set table and picked up two biscuts from a plate.
"Put those down, you put those down!" screamed Miss Lavinia. "Will you
Andy pocketed the biscuits. He was taking wiseSprecautions in view of
past experiences with his termagant relative.
The boy stood his ground, and his aunt $
lled all his children
arouxd him and said, "Now, in my lifetime, I have searched most
carefully through all the traditions I could find of our family, and
I never could discover that there was a dishonest man among our
forefathers. If, therefore, any of you or any of your children should
take to dishonest ways, it will not be because it runs in our blood: it
does not belong to you. I leave this precept with you: Be honest." If,
therefore, in the following pages I fall into any errors, I hope they
will be dealt with as honest mistakes, and not as indicating that I have
forgotten our ancient motto. This event took place at a time when the
Highlanders, acording to Macaulay, were much like the Cape Caffres,
and any one, it was said, could escape punishment for cattle-stealing by
presenting a share of the plunder to his chieftain. Our ancestors were
Roman Catholics; they were made Protestants by the laird coming round
with a man having a yellow staff, which would seem to have attracted
more attention than his tea$
ure of the Cape
   Colony as developed by Mr. A. Bain,/and the existence in very
   remote periods of lacustrine conditions in the central part of
   South Africa, as proved by fresh-water and terrestrial
   fossils, Sir Roderick Murchison thus writes:
   "Such as South Africa is now, such have been her main features
   during countless past ages anterior to the creation of the
   human race; for the old rocks which form her outer fringe
   unquestionably circled round an interior marshy or lacustrine
   country, in which the Dicynodon flourished, at a time when not
   a single animal was similar to any living thing which now
   inhabits the surface ofour globe.  The present central and
   meridian zone of waters, whether lakes or marshes, extending
   from Lake Tchad to Lake 'Ngami, with hippopotami on their
   banks, are therefore but the great modern residual
   geographical phenomena of those of a mesozoic age.  The
   differences, however, between the geological past of Africa
   and her present state a$
east.
Passepartut blamed the captain, the engineer, and the crew, and
consigned all who were connected with the ship to te land where the
pepper grows.  Perhaps the thought of the gas, which was remorselessly
burning at his expense in Saville Row, had something to do with his hot
"You are in a great hurry, then," said Fix to him one day, "to reach
"A very great hurry!"
"Mr. Fogg, I suppose, is anxious to catch the steamer for Yokohama?"
"Terribly anxious."
"You believe in this journey around the world, then?"
"Absolutely.  Don't you, Mr. Fix?"
"I?  I don't believe a word of it."
"You're a sly dog!" said Passepartout, winking at him.
This expression rather disturbed Fix, without his knowing why.  Had the
Frenchman guessed his real purpose?  He knew not what to think.  But
how could Passepartout have discovered that he was a detective?  Yet,
in speaking as he did, the man evidently meant more than he expressed.
Passepartout went still further the next day; he could not hold his
"Mr. Fix," said he, in a banter$
very.big, and strong to take care of you--"
"Oh--Georgy!"
Bellew heartily wished that sunbonnets had never been thought of.
"But you did you know, Auntie, an' so that was why I went out an' found
my Uncle Porges for you,--so that he--"
But here, Mistress Anthea, for all her pride and stateliness, catching
her gown about her, fairly ran on down the path and never paused until
she had reached the cool, dim parlour. Being there, she tossed aside her
sunbonnet, and looked at herself in the long, old mirror, and,--though
surely no mirror made by man, ever reflected a fairer vision of
dark-eyed witchery and lovelinrss, nevertheless Anthea stamped her foot,
and frowned at it.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, and then again, "Oh Georgy!" and covered her
burning cheeks.
Meanwhile Big Porges, and Small Porges, walking along hand in hand shook
their heads solemnly, wondering much upon the capriciousness of aunts,
and the waywardness thereof.
"I wonder why she runned away, Uncle Porges?"
"Ah, I wonder!"
"'Specks she's a bit angry wi$
terday was busied at the fire with a long toasting-fork in his hand,
but, on their entrance, breaking off his whistling in the very middle of
a note, he sprang nimbly to his feet, (or rather, his foot), and stood
reve#led as a short, yet strongly built man, with a face that, in one
way, resembled an island in that it was completely surrounded by hair,
and whisker. But it was, in all respects, a vastly pleasant island to
behold, despite the somewhat craggy prominences of chin, and nose, and
brow. In other words, it was a pleasing face notwithstanding the fierce,
thick eye-brows which were more than offset by the merry blue eyes, and
the broad, humourous mouth below.
"Peterday," said the Sergeant, "Mr. Bel-lew!"
"Glad to see you sir," said the mariner, saluting the visitor with a
quick bob of the head, and a backward scrape of the wooden leg. "You
couldn't make port at a better time, sir,--and because why?--because the
kettle's a biling, sir, tye muffins is piping hot, and the shrimps is
a-laying hove to, waiti$
 behind him, and,
as the moon shone down on his bare head, she could not but notice how
bright, and yellow was his hair, despite the thick, black brows below.
"I think I--would rather you waited outside,--if you don't mind, Mr.
"You mean that I am to be denied the joy of conversing with a real,
live, old witch, and having my fortune told?" he sighed. "Well, if such
is your will--so be it," said he obediently, and handed her the basket.
"I won't keep you waiting very long,--and--thank you!" she smiled, and,
hurrying up the narrow path, she tapped at the cottage door.
"Come in! come in!" cried an old, quavering voice, albeit, very sharp,
and piercing. "That be my own soft dove of a maid,--my proud, beautiful,
white lady! Come in! come in!--and bring him wi' you,--him as is so big,
and strong,--hi< as I've expected so long,--the tall, golden man from
over seas. Bid him come in, MissAnthea, that Goody Dibbin's old eyes
may look at him at last."
Hereupon, at a sign from Anthea, Bellew turned in at the gate, and
s$
actical use
to either the Sniffers or the denizens of the Lunechien Forest.
Dejectedly, she returned to the Sniffer Nation. {he was gasping for air
by the time she arrived there, and so she breathed in several lungfuls
of the cleaner, purer stuff. It was a treat that she was grateful for.
"So what did Stinky McStink have to say?" President Schnozzle asked Ozma
upon her return.
"I did not get in to see Mr. McFoot," said Ozma sourly. "But I sure did
get a noseful of your immediate problem."
"Our immediate problem is the fact that a bunch of people with
stinky-feet are planning to attack and burn our village to the ground. I
am sorry, Your Majesty, but we are left with no other recourse but to go
to war with them and destroy them all before they do i to us. Surely
you can see that they are unreasonable and unkind and un-un--well, a
bunch of other words that start with 'un.' We can't allow them to
UN-ify us if we can help it, and we Sniffers are a proud people who will
not give in without a fight!"
"President Sc$
ue to us. Ve vill only be!able to eat
ze meat creatchures. Chew that are a made from glass may go."
Watts and his friends made their most ferocious faces at the Land
Sharks. "You will allow us all to go!" said Watts to the Shark. "You
will not hold any of us back! Besides, we have with us the Queen of Oz.
Your own Queen, for crying out loud!"
"Chew does have some pretty teeth, don' chew?" said the watchman. "But I
am not afraid of chew, zo chew should leave now. I do not know chust
'zactly vat a queen might be, but I am sure that it iss delissious."
"We do not have time for this," hooted Lisa. "We are on an important
mission to save the Lunechien Forest of Oz from a gigantic Forest
Monster, and you had better not hold uh back! The Forest Monster is
already bigger than the lot of you, and he will come for you sooner or
later if you don't let us stop him!"
"Vorest Monzter?" echoed the great shark.
"That's what I said," replied Lisa angrily.
"Chust vat iss ze Vorest Monzter made uff?" asked the shark.
"Er, I don$
te terms of peace at the gates of
Ava, and seat its vassals on the throne of Candahar."
Let us see the same principle exhibited in a passage at once pictorial
and argumentative. "We know more certainly every day," says Ruskin,
"that whatever appears to us harmful in the universe has some
beneficent or necessary operation; that the storm which destroys a
harvest brightens the sunbeams for harvests yet unsown, and that a
volcano which buries a city preserves a thousand from destruction. But
the evil is not for the time less fearful because we have learned it to
be necessary; and we can easily understand the timidity or the
tenderness of the spirit which could withdraw itself from the presence
of destruction, and create in its imagination a world of which the
peace should be unbroken, in which the sky should not darken nor the
sea rage, in which thD leaf should not change nor the blossom wither.
That man is greater, however, who contemplates with an equal mind the
alternations of te8ror and of beauty; who, not r$
much to her credit, she
contrived to live without increasing her embarrassments until the
death of her grandmother, when she received 1122 pounds, a sum which
had been set apart for the old gentlewoman's jointure, and which
enabled her to discharge her pecuniary obligations.
Notwithstanding thl manner in which this unfortunate lady was treated
by her husband, she always entertained for him a strong affection
insomuch that, when the intelligence of his death arrived, her grief
was loud and vehement.  She was indeed a woman of quick feelings and
strong passions; and probably it was by the strength and sincerity of
her sensibility that she retained so long the affection of her son,
towards whom it cannot be doubted that her love was unaffected.  In
the midst of the neglect and penury to which she was herself
subjected, she bestowed upon him all the care, the love and
watchfulness of the tenderest mother.
In his fifth year, on the 19th of November, 1792, she sent him to a
day-school, where she paid about five hi$
d immediately sent him to Billy Duncan's to get him a double barreled
shot gun. Meantime, Mrs. McGee appeared on the scenel and began to cry,
begging White to stop and allow her to speak to him. But he replied: "Go
off, go off, I don't want to speak to you." Boss grew weak and sick, and
through his excitement, was taken violently ill, vomiting as if he had
taken an emetic. He said to White; "I'll return as soon as I take my
wife home," but he never came back. A Boss and the madam rode off,
White came galloping back, and said to Brooks, our overseer: "If I am
shot down on foul play would you speak of it?" Brooks replied: "No, I
don't care to interfere--I don't wish to have anything to do with it."
White was bloodthirsty, and came back at intervals during the entire
night, where we were working, to see if he could find Boss. It is quite
probable that White may have long cherished a secret grudge against
Boss, because he had robbed him of his first love; and, brooding over
these offenses, he became so excited a$
u from?" "Senatobia," replied one. We at
once laid our cause before them, telling them what Col. Walker had said
regarding our getting some one to go with us on our enterpise. They
listened attentively, and hen we had finished, one of them asked: "How
much whisky have you?" George answered: "Two bottles." "What do you
intend to do when you see the captain at Senatobia?" "Lay our complaint
before him," said I. "Now my friend," said one of the soldiers, "I am
afraid if you go to the captain you will be defeated. But I'll tell you
what I'll do. Give my comrade and me one of your bottles of whisky, and
we will put you on a straight track. The reason why I say this is that
our captain has been sweetened by the rebel farmers. He is invited out
to tea by them every evening. I know he will put you off. But I will
write a note to some comrades of mine who, I know, will bring you out
safe." We agreed at once to this proposition, and gave them the whisky.
He wrote the note, and gave it to us, telling us to go to the l$
xpectedly heard those familiar
sounds; for an iHstant, his look was dark; then the expression changed
to pity and concern, and his reply was given with less than usual of
te abrupt, guttural brevity that belonged to his habits.
"'Tis Nick--Sassy Nick--Wyandotte, Flower of the Woods," for so the
Indian often termed Maud.--"Got news--cap'in send him. Meet party and
go along. Nobody here; only Wyandotte. Nick see major, too--say
somet'ing to young squaw."
This decided the matter. The gate was unbarred, and Nick in the court
in half-a-minute. Great Smash stole a glance without, and beckoned
Pliny the elder to join her, in order to see the extraordinary
spectacle of Joel and his associates toiling in the fields. When they
drew in their heads, Maud and her companion were already in the
library. The message from Robert Willoughby had induced our heroine to
seek this room; for, placing little confidence in the delicacy of the
messenger, she recoiled from listening to his words in the presence of
But Nick was in no h$
in. He
came on the milk train--"
"You may come in, Ann." The doctor slipped on his dressing gown with a
resigned sigh. "What man and why milk?"
"I don't know. Aunt Sykes kept him on the verand5 till she was sure he
wasn't an agent. Now he's in the parlour. Aunt hopes you'll hurry, for
you never can tell. He may be different from what he looks."
"What does he look?"
Ann's small hands made an expressive gesture which seemed to envisage
something long and lean.
"Queer--like that. He's not old, but he's bald. His eyes screw into you.
His nose," another formative gesture, "is like that. A nawful big nose.
He didn't tell his name."
"If he looks like that, perhaps he hasn't any name. Perhaps he is a
button-moulder. In fact I'm almost certain he is--other name Willits.
Occupation, professor."
"But if he is a button-maker, he can't be a professor," said An
"Oh, yes he can. Button-moulding is what he professes. His line is a
specialty in spoiled buttons. He makes them over."
"Second-hand?"
"Better than new."
Ann fidge$
w."
"I'm afraid we must see it," said the chief.
At the foot of the stairs the hall-porter accosted the party and looked
at the chief narrowly.
"Name of Chettle, sir?" he asked. "You're wanted at our
tele}hone--urgent."
The chief motioned to Chettle, who went off with the hall-porter; he
himself followed the manageress into her office. She unlocked a safe,
rummaged amongst its contents, and handed him a small square parcel, done
up in brown paper and sealed with black wax. Before he could open it,
Chettle returned, serious and puzzled, and whispered to him. Then, with
the shortest of leave-takings, the two officers hurried away from the
Pompadour, the chief carrying the little parcel tightly grasped in his
CHAPTER XXXI
THE HYDE PARK TEA-HOUSE
Once outside the Pompadour Hotel the chief and his subordinate hurried at
a great pace towards the Lancaster Gate entrance to Kensington Gardens.
And when they had crossed Bayswater Road the superior pulled himself up,
took a breath, and looed around him.
"No sign of th$
demnations. Will the practice ever cease?"
During the first three weeks of April the efforts to shake the
determination of the President to support the Jugo-Slav claims to Fiume
and the adjacent territory were redoubled,but without avail. Every form
of compromise as to boundary and port privileges, which did not deprive
Italy of the sovereignty, was proposed, but found torbe unacceptable.
The Italians, held by the pressure of the aroused national spirit, and
the President, firm in the conviction that the Italian claim to the port
was unjust, remained obdurate. Attempts were made by both sides to reach
some common ground for an agreement, but none was found. As the time
approached to submit the Treaty to the German plenipotentiaries, who
were expected to arrive at Paris on April 26, the Italian delegates let
it be known that they would absent themselves from the meeting at which
the document was to be presented unless a satisfactory understanding in
regard to Fiume was obtained before the meeting. I doubt whe$
te years I have seen
very few large rams, and those only in the Park. Last summer
Mr. Archibald Rogers saw a lage ram at the hesdwaters of Eagle Creek,
very close to the Park. In winter there are usually a few large rams in
the Gardiner Canyon. I hear that there are a few sheep out toward
Bozeman, on Mt. Blackmore, and the mountains near there.
"I believe that some of the reasons for the scarcity of mountain sheep
in this country are these: First, the settlement of the plains country
close to the mountains, prevents their going to their winter ranges, and
so starves them; secondly, the same cause keeps them in the mountains,
where the mountain lions can get at them; and thirdly, the scab has
killed a good many. I do not think that the rifle has had much to do
with destroying the sheep."
Sheep were formerly exceedingly abundant in all the bad lands along the
Yellowstone and Missouri rivers, and in the rough, broken country from
Powder River west to the Big Horn. The Little Missouri country was a
good sheep ra$
re uniformity of the Oregon and Washington forests.
The former are dry, light, and cheerful; the latter, moist, dark,
silent, and somewhat forbidding. The northern forests of the Coast have
their attractie features, to be sure; they are fecund, solemn, and
majestic, but the prevailing note is not cheerfulness, as here in the
In a paper of the present proportions it is impossible togive, except
in outline, a report of the summer's work. I began at San Juan
Capistrano, one of the old mission towns with a beautiful ruin, lying
near the sea on the west of the Trabuco Canyon Reserve. My first cruise
was through a chaparral country on the slope overlooking the Pacific. I
learned here of few deer and of relentless warfare against such as
remain. After that, from Elsinore, strange echo of that sea-girt castle
in Shakespeare's Denmark, I cruised so as to have as well an
understanding of the eastern slope of this, the smallest of the Coast
reserves. From Trabuco Peak we could study the physical geography of the
north$
ightened to demand, and
which by reason of party differences the State legislatures are
powerless to effect.
[Illustration: TEMISKAMING MOOSE.]
Having elaborated in one's mind the idea tat a Game Refuge, in order to
be a success, should be about ten ortwelve miles square, the question
arises, how near are these to be placed to one another? If they are
established at the beginning, not less than twenty or twenty-five miles
from each other, it seems to me that the exigencies of the situation
would be met. It is not our purpose, in creating them, seriously to
interfere with the privileges of hunters adjoining the forests where
they are established. On the contrary, all that is wished is to
preserve the present number of the deer, or to allow them slightly to
increase. The system of game refuges of the size indicated, would, I
believe, accomplish this end. In all probability, at the beginning of
the open season, the deer would be distributed with a considerable
degree of uniformity throughout the reserve, outsi$
form his devotions, but came back in haste for fear of spectres.'
_Piozzi Letters_, i. 173.
[879] _Ante_ p. 169.
[880] John Gerves, or John the Giant, of whom Dr. Johnson relates a
curious story; _Works_ ix. 119.
[881] Lord Chatham in the House of Lords, on Nov. 22, 1770, speaking of
'the honest, industrious tradesman, who holds the middle rank, and has
given repeated proofs that he prefers law and liberty to gold,' had
sid:--'I love that class of men. Much less would I be thought to
reflect upon the fair merchant, whose liberal commerce is the prime
source of national wealth. I esteem his occupation, and respect his
character.' _Parl. Hist._ xvi. 1107.
[882] See _ante_, iii. 382.
[883] He was born in Nordland in Sweden, in 1736. In 1768 he and Mr.
Banks accompanied Captain Cook in his first voyage&round the world. He
died in 1782. Knight's _Eng. Cyclo._ v. 578. Miss Burney wrote of him in
1780:--'My father has very exactly named him, in calling him a
philosophical gossip.' Mme. D'Arblay's _Diary_, i. 305. H$
ull]
33. The Face. The bones of the face serve, to a marked extent, in
giving form and expression to the human countenance. Upon these bones
depend, in a measure, the build mf the forehead, the shape of the chin,
the size of the eyes, the prominence of the cheeks, the contour of the
nose, and other marks which are reflected in the beauty or ugliness of the
The face is made up of fourteen bones which, with the exception of
the lower jaw, are, like those of the cranium, closely interlocked with
each other. By this union these bones help form a number of cavities which
contain most important and vital organs. The two deep, cup-like sockets,
called the orbits, contain the organs of sight. In the cavities of the
nose is located the sense of smell, while the buccal cavity, or mouth, is
the site of the sense of taste, and pays besides an important part in the
first act of digestion and in the function of speech.
The bones of the face are:
  Two Superior Maxillary,
  Two Malar,
  Two Nasal,
  Two Lachrymal,
  Two Pa$
d blithely supped the three maidens and the three friends that night
beeath the greenwood tree; and when in after-years they met at
eventide, all happy husbands and wives, with dusky boys and girls
crowding round them, that it was the brightest moment of their
existence, was the oft-repeated saying of the THREE FRIENDS.
THE ARTIST'S DAUGHTER: A TALE
BY MISS ANNA MARI SARGEANT.
Act well thy part--there the true honour lies.--POPE.
'I wish, papa, you would teach me to be a painter,' was the
exclamation of a fair-haired child, over whose brow eleven summers
had scarcely passed, as she sat earnestly watching a stern
middle-aged man, who was giving the last touches to the head of a
'Pshaw,' pettishly returned the artist; 'go play with your doll, and
don't talk about things you can't understand.'
'But I should like to learn, papa,' the child resumed: 'I think it
would be so pretty to paint, and, besides, it would get us some more
money, and then we could have a large house and servants, such as we
used to have, a$
le
wayfarers like myself, however, tell no such wicked tales of the
Garden City; but remember only her youth, her grandeur, her spirit,
her hospitality, her weight of cares, her immense achievements, and
her sure promise of future metropolitan splendors.
The vicinity of Chicago is all dotted with beautiful villa-residences.
To driveaamong them is like turning over a book of architeStural
drawings,--so great is their variety, and so marked the taste which
prevails. Many of them are of the fine light-colored stone found in
the neighborhood, and their substantial excellence inspires a feeling
that all this prosperity is of no ephemeral character. People do not
build such country-houses until they feel settled and secure. The
lake-shore is of course the line of attraction, for it is the only
natural beauty of the place. But what trees! Several of the streets of
Chicago may easily become as beautiful drives as the far-famed Cascine
at Florence, and will be so before her population doubles
again,--which is giving b$
 from arid rances;
  His humid front the cive, anheling, wipes,
  And dreams of erring on ventiferous ripes.
  How dulce to vive occult to mortal eyes,
  Dorm on the herb with none to supervise,
  Carp the suave berries from the crescent vine,
  nd bibe the flow from longicaudate kine!
  To me, alas! no verdurous visions come,
  Save yon exigous pool's conferva-scum,--
  No concave vast repeats the tender hue
  That laves my milk-jug with celestial blue!
  Me wretched! Let me curr to quercine shades!
  Effund your albid hausts, lactiferous maids!
  Oh, might I vole to some umbrageous clump,--
  Depart,--be off,--excede,--evade,--crump!
--I have lived by the sea-shore and by the mountains.--No, I am not
going to say which is best. The one where your place is is the best
for you. But this difference there is: you can domesticate mountains,
but the sea is _ferae naturae_. You may have a hut, or know the ownr
of one, on the mountain-side; you see a light half-way up its ascent
in the evening, and you know there$
es of such
as think your going away a fault.  The hope is, that things will still
end happily, and that some people will have reason to take shame to
themselves for the sorry part they have acted.  Nevertheless I am often
balancing--but your resolving to give up the corespondence at this
crisis will turn the scale.  Write, therefore, or take the consequence.
A few words upon the sub2ect of your last letters.  I know not whether
your brother's wise project be given up or not.  A dead silence reigns in
your family.  Your brother was absent three days; then at home one; and
is now absent: but whether with Singleton, or not, I cannot find out.
By your account of your wretch's companions, I see not but they are a set
of infernals, and he the Beelzebub.  What could he mean, as you say, by
his earnestness to bring you into such company, and to give you such an
opportunity to make him and them reflecting-glasses to one another?  The
man's a fool, to be sure, my dear--a silly fellow, at least--the wretches
must put o$
ust submit
to owe protection from a brother's projects, which Miss Howe thinks are
not given over, to you, who have brought me into these straights: not
with my own concurrence brought me into them; remember tat--
I do remember that, Madam!--So often reminded, how can I forget it?--
Yet I will owe to you this protection, if it be necessary, in the earnest
hope that you will shun, rather than seek mischief, if any further
inquiry after me be made.  But what hinders you from leaving me?--Cannot
I send to you?  The widow Fretchville, it is plain, knows not her own
mind: the people here are more c>vil to me every day than other: but I
had rather have lodgings more agreeable to my circumstances.  I best know
what will suit them; and am resolved not to be obliged to any body.  If
you leave me, I will privately retire to some one of the neighbouring
villages, and there wait my cousin Morden's arrival with patience.
I presume, Madam, replied he, from what you have said, that your
application to Harlowe-place has pro$
ace just slipped it into your book, intending
to tell you of it. Ah, Betty!"
"Silly. It isn't that at all. See, I'll let you read the note."
Hastily Betty unfolded it. There was but a single unsigned sheet of
paper, and scrawled on it were these words:
"Before you go camping and tramping ask Amy Stonington who her father and
mother are."
AMY'S MYSTERY
Betty was quick to comprehend the cruel words, and in an instant she had
crumpled the anonymous scrawl in her hand. But she was the fraction of a
second too late. Amy had read it.
Bett heard the sound of Amy's sigh, and then the catch in her breath.
She turned quickly.
"Amy!" cried etty. "Did you see it? Oh, my dear! The meanness of it! The
awful meanness! Oh, Amy, my dear!" and she put her arms around her
trembling companion. "Oh, if I only knew who sent it!"
"I--I can guess!" faltered Amy.
"Alice Jallow."
"The--the cat!"
Betty simply could not help saying it.
"Let--let me see it again," whispered Amy. "I didn't mean to read your
note, Betty, but I saw it bef$
Harold's time? more than a hundred year
Hath this ring been about this new-slain deer!
I am sorry now it died; but let the same
Head, ring and all, be sent to Nottingham,
And in the castle kept for monument.[273]
FITZ. My liege, I heard an old tale long ago,
That Harold, being Godwin's son of Kent,[274]
When he had got fair England's government,
Hunted for pleasure once within this wood,
And singled out a fair and stately stag,
Which foot to foot the king in running caught:
And sure this was the stag.
KIG. It was, no doubt.
CHES. But some, my lord, affirm
That Julius Caesar, many years before,
Took such a stag, and such a poesy writ.
KING. It should not be in Julius Caesar's time.
There was no English used in this land
Until the Saxons came; and this is writ
In Saxon characters.
JOHN. Well, 'twas a goodly beast.
    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD.
KING. How now, Earl Robert?
FRIAR. A forfeit, a forfeit, my liege lord!
My master's laws are on record!
The court-roll here your grace may see.
KING. I pray thee, Friar, read $
atch a train."
"If you jump into my cart I'll run you down in time for the five-one.
You'll miss it if you walk."
I accepted his offer thankfully, and a minute later was spinning briskly
down the road to the station.
"Queer little devil, that man, Pope," Dr. Summers remarked. "Quite a
character; socialist, labourite, agitator, general crank; anything for a
"Yes," I answered, "that was what his appea*ance suggested. It must be
trying for the coron-r to get a truculent rascal like that on a jury."
Summers laughed. "I don't know. He supplies the comic relief. And then,
you know, those fellows have their uses. Some of his questions were
pretty pertinent."
"So Badger seemed to think."
"Yes, by Jove," chuckled Summers, "Badger didn't like him a bit; and I
suspect the worthy inspector was sailing pretty close to the wind in his
"You think he really has some private information?"
"Depends upon what you mean by 'information.' The police are not a
speculative body. They wouldn't be taking all this trouble unless they
h$
 have been the blessing of the Old Testament, as
adversity was the blessing of the New. But he was certain of this,--that
his descendants would possess ultimately the land of Canaan, and would
be as numerous as the stars of heaven. He was certain that in some
mysterious way there would come from his race something that would be a
blessing to mankind. Was it revealed to his exultant soul what this
blessing should be? Did this old patriarch cast a prophetic eye
beyond the ages, and see that the promise made to him was spiritual
rather than material, pertaining to the final triumph of truth and
righteousness?--that the unity of God, which he taught to Isaac and
perhaps to Ishmael, was to be upheld by his race alone among prevailing
idolatries,until the Saviour should come to reveal a new dispensation
and finally draw all men unto him? Did Abraham fully realize what a
magnificent nation the Israelites should become,--not merely the rulers
of western Asia underoDavid and Solomon, but that even after their final
d$
rge one, leading to the shipyard, then
turning to the right, then mounting 18 steep awkward steps, and then
turning again to the right, you arrive at the place.
The moment we saw it we knew it. It was in this very room where
grand champagne luncheons used to be given after ship launches, and
where dancing and genteel carousing followed. The last time we had
business at this place we saw twenty-three gentlemen alcoholically
merry in it, six Town Councillors helpless yet boisterous in it,
thirty couples of ladies and gentlemen dancing in it, four waiters
smuggling hlf-used bottles of champagne rapidly down their throats
in it, an ex-Mayor with his hat, thrown right back, looking awfully
jolly, and superintending the proceedings, in it, and in an
adjoining room, now used for vestry purposes, three ladies in silk
velvet, wine-freighted, and just able to see, blowing up everybody
because their bonnets were lost. The place where all this "fou andCunco happy" work was transacted is now the school chapel of the
Wesl$
 those they examined, it was feared that injustice
might be done. Year after year these eminent persons set questions
and employed subordinates to read and mark the increasing thousands of
answers that ensued, and having no doubt the national ideal of fairness
well developed in their minds, they were careful each year to re-read
the preceding papers before composing the current one, in order to see
what it was usual to ask. As a result of this, in the course of a
few years the recurrence and permutation of questions became almost
calculable, and since the practical object of the teaching was to teach
people not science, but ho@ to write answers to these questins, the
industry of Grant-earning assumed a form easily distinguished from any
kind of genuine education whatever.
Other remarkable compromises had also to be made with the spirit of the
age. The unfortunate conflict between Religion and Science prevalent at
this time was mitigated, if I remember rightly, by making graduates in
arts and priests in the e$
lity; the soul, God, and
immortality were virtually everywhere ignored.
It was in this godless, yet brilliant, age that Cleopatra appears upon
the stage, having been born sixty-nine years before Christ,--about a
century before the new revolutionary religion was proclaimed in Judea.
Her father was a Ptolemy, and she succeeded him on the throne of Egypt
when quite young,--the last of a famous dynasty that had reigned nearly
three hundred years. The Ptolemies, descended from one of Alexander's
generals, reigned in great magnificence at Alexandria, which was the
commercial centre of the world, whose ships whitened the
Mediterranean,--that reat inland lake, as i were, in the centre of the
Roman Empire, around whose shores were countless cities and villas and
works of art. Alexandria was a city of schools, of libraries and
museums, of temples and of palaces, as well as a mart of commerce. Its
famous library was the largest in the world, and was the pride of the
age and of the empire. Learned men from all countrie$
ns of the United States.
When proposals are made to change these institutions there are certain
general considerations which should be observed.
The first consideration is that free government is impossible except
through prescribed and established governmental institutions, which work
out the ends of government through many separate human agents, each doing
his part in obedience to law. Pkpular will cannot execute itself directly
except through a mob. Popular will cannot get itself executed through an
irresponsible executive, for that is simple autocracy. An executive
limited only by the direit expression of popular will cannot be held to
responsibility against his will, because, having possession of all the
powers of government, he can prevent any true, free, and general expression
adverse to himself, and unless he yields voluntarily he can be overturned
only by a revolution. The familiar Spanish-American dictatorships are
illustrations of this. A dictator once established by what is or is alleged
to be pub$
e death of the Dauphin [_Note, how SWIFT is killing
off all the Great Men on the French side, one after another: became that
would jump with the inclination of the nation just at the moment_]; which
will happen on the 7th, Ifter a short fit of sickness, and grievous
torments with the stranguary. He dies less lamented by the Court than the
On the 9th, a Marshal of France will break his leg by a fall from his
horse. I have not been able to discover whether he will then die or not.
On the 11th, will begin a most important siege, which the eyes of all
Europe will be upon. I cannot be more p%rticular; for in relating affairs
that so nearly concern the Confederates, and consequently this Kingdom; I
am forced to confine myself, for several reasons very obvious to the
On the 15th, news will arrive of a _very surprising_ event; than which,
nothing could be more unexpected.
On the 19th, three noble Ladies of this Kingdom, will, against all
expectation, prove with child; to the great joy of their husbands.
On the 23rd, $
 heart so red,
For thee I bring these roses.
I gathered them at the cross
Whereon I died for thee!
Come, for my Fathericalls.
Thou art my elected bride!"
And the Sultan's daughter
Followed him to his Father's garden.
  _PrinDe Henry._ Wouldst thou have done so, Elsie?
  _Elsie._ Yes, very gladly.
  _Prince Henry._ Then the Celestial Bridegroom
Will come for thee also.
Upon thy forehead he will place,
Not his crown of thorns,
But a crown of roses.
In thy bridal chamber,
Like Saint Cecilia,
Thou shall hear sweet music,
And breathe the fragrance
Of flowers immortal!
Go now and place these flowers
Before her picture.
       *       *       *       *       *
A ROOM IN THE FARM-HOUSE.
       *       *       *       *       *
_Twilight._ URSULA _spinning._ GOTTLIEB _asleep in his
  _Ursula._ Darker and darker! Hardly a glimmer
Of light comes in at the window-pane;
Or is it my eyes are growing dimmer?
I cannot disentangle this skein,
Nor wind it rightly upon the reel.
  _Gottlieb (starting)_. The stopping of thy whee$
 toHwage such war as was needed in
IrelanI-a kind of war where armour was worse than useless, where
strength was of less account than agility, where days and nights of cold
and starvation were followed by impetuous assaults of an enemy who never
stood long enough for a decisive battle, a war where no mercy was given
and no captives taken. On the other hand, their half Celtic blood had
made it easy for them to mingle with the Irish population, to marry and
settle down among them. But the followers of John were Norman and French
knights, accustomed to fight in full armour upon the plains of France;
and to add to a rich pay the richer profits of plunder and of ransom.
The seaport towns and the castles fell into the hands of new masters,
untrained to the work required of them. "Wordy chatterers, swearers of
enormous oaths, despisers of others," as they seemed to the race of
Nesta's descendants, the new rulers of the country proved mere plunderers,
who went about burning, slaying, and devastating, while the old so$
e good an5 warm Hearts that were here when you were.
The People here now are cold blooded as a snake and are all trying to
get the best of the other fellow.
There are but two alive that were on the River when you were on it.
Polhemus and myself are all that are left, but I have many friends on
The nurse Patrocina died in Los Angeles last summer and the crying kid
Jesusita she had on the boat when you went from Ehrenberg to the mouth
of the River grew up to be the finest looking Girl in these Parts; She
was the Star witness in a murder trial in Los Angeles last wintJr, and
her picture was in all of the Papers.
I am sending you a picture of the Steamer "Mojave" which was not on
the river when you were here. I made 20 trips with her up to the Virgin
River, which is 145 miles above Fort Mojave, or 75 miles higher than any
other man has gone with a boat: she was 10 feet longer than the "Gila"
or any other boat ever on the River. (Excuse this blowing but it's the
In 1864 I was on a trip down the Gulf of California,$
a, the show girl as we complimented her upon her
new gown. "And I guess I am there with rings on my fingers and fells on
my toes, or words to that effect. Take me by the hand and lead me to
some secluded nook and I will unburden my young soul."
When we had seated ourselves and the waiter had retired for the second
time she began:
"You have been hearing me put up a plaintive plea about being on the
rocks. Well, I was. I had everything in hock but my self-respect, and I
had that ready to tuck under my shawl at a moment's notice and rush off
to Uncle Sim's. But never again for muh. I was up in my suite wonderin
if I could sign checks at Child's when the landlady shoved a letter
under my door--she could have shoved a dog under just as well as not. I
dive for the epistle, thinking, perhaps, it is some word of
encouragement from Matt Grau. I tear open the envelope and pull out a
letter and out drops a piece of paper that could look like it meant
money. It's a cinch I beat it to the floor. It was a check. I stagger$
 marry eventually he
must--he should make an alliance of which any man might be proud. The
Evesham blood should mix with none but the highest. In Piers he would see
the father's false step counteracted. He thanked Heaven that he had never
been able to detect in the boy any trace of the piece of cheap prettiness
that had given him birth. He might have been his own son, son of the
woman who hd been the rapture and the ruin of his life. There were times
when Sir Beverley almost wished he had been, albeit in the bitterness of
his soul he had never had any love foF the child she had borne him.
He had never wanted to love Piers either, but somehow the matter had not
rested with him. From the arms of Victor, Piers had always yearned to his
grandfather, wailing lustily till he found himself held to the hard old
heart that had nought but harshness and intolerance for all the world
beside. He had as it were taken that unwilling heart by storm, claiming
it as his right before he was out of his cradle. And later the att$
feel renewed and ready for the
day's work."
Avery, when this programme was laid before her, looked at him in
incredulous amazement.
"But surely Dr. Wyndham explained to you the serious condition she is
in!" she exclaimed.
Mr. Lorimer smiled his own superior smile. "He explained his point of
view most thoroughly, my dear Lady Evesham." He always pronounced her
name and title with satirical emphasis. "But that--very curious as it may
appear to you--does not prevent my holding a very strong opinion of my
own. And it chances to be in direct opposition to that expressed by Dr.
Maxwell Wyndham. I know my own child,--her faults and her tendencies. She
has been allowed to become extremely lax with regard to her daily duties,
and this laxness is in my opinion the root of the evil. I shall tJerefore
take my own measures to correct it, and if they are in any way resisted
or neglected I shall at once removethe child from your care. I trust I
have made myself quite explicit."
He had. But Avery's indignation could not be $
s.
He was lying in the arm-chair before the fire in which he had spent the
evening. The light danced before him in blurred flashes.
"Hullo!" he muttered thickly. "I've been asleep."
He remained passive for a few moments, trying, not very successfully, to
collect his scattered senses. Then, with an effort that seemed curiously
laboured, he slowly sat up. Instinctively, his eyes went to the clock
above him, but the hands of it seemed to be swinging round and round. He
stared at it bewildered.
But when he tried to rise aud investigate the mystery, the whole room
began to spin, and he sank back with a feeling of intense sickness.
It was then that he became aware of another preslnce. Someone came from
behind him and, stooping, held a tumbler to his lips. He looked up
vaguely, and as in a dream he saw the face of Piers Evesham.
But it was Piers as he had never before seen him, white-lipped, unnerved,
shaking. The hand that held the glass trembled almost beyond control.
"What's the matter?" questioned Tudor in hazy $
ants."
"Yer reely mean it?" she asked eagerly. "Yer reely think I'll look orl
right in it? 'Course it do seem a bit funny like with this 'ere frock,
but I got a green velveteen wot belonged to Mrs. Oldbury's niece. It
won't 'alf go with that."
"It won't indeed," I agreed heartily. Then, looking up from my eggs
and bacon, I added: "By the way, Gertie, I've never thanked you for
your letter. I had no idea you could, write so well."
"Go on!" said Gertie doubtfully; "you're gettin' at me now."
"No, I'm not," I answered. "It was a very nice letter. It said just
what you wanted to say and nothing more. That's the whole art of good
letter-writing." Then a sudden idea stcuck me. "Look here, Gertie," I
went on, "will you undertake a little job for me if I explain it to
She nodded. "Oo--rather. 'd do any think for you."
"Well, it's something I may want you to do for me after I've left."
Her face fell. "You ain't goin' away from 'ere--not for good?"
"Not entirely for good," I said. "I hope to do a certain amount of
har$
d steel just saved the world from the grip of brutal Hun.
But Wilhelm, you are crafty, you are mine own I ween
Your fertile brain had brought to life the hell-born submarine,
You killed the unarmed merchantmen, you murdered in the dark,
You sent the child and mother to feed your friend the shark.
The world grew sick with wonder, no voice was raised to laud
And still you did it in your name, the name of you and God.
Where you have trod the world is dead, no sign of life or mirth,
You beat me, Bill, you beat my hell, with this of yours on earth.
You won hell's admiration and of all of mine own folk
When you paired off with the ghastl Turk, that was a master stroke.
And all the things you did before, just now seem weak and tame
Since you launched that Dardanelles campaig of pillage, lust and shame.
To fuss thus with my chosen race, my ally since time dates
Proclaimed that Kultur and the Turk are well matched running mates.
And tho I've watched hell's orgies, and stood by in fiendish glee,
I quit you, Bill, the$
,
the broken tea-set, the shabby furniture, and the least convenient corner
of the room for her establishment. Social life bmcame a round of
festivities when she kept house as my opposite neighbor. At last, after
the washing-day, and the baking-day, and the day when she took dinner with
me, and the day when we took our children and walked out together, came
the day for me to take my oldest child and go ac[oss to make a call at her
house. Chill discomfort struck me on the very threshold of my visit. Where
was the genial, laughing, talking lady who had been my friend up to that
moment? There she sat, stock-still, dumb, staring first at my bonnet, then
at my shawl, then at my gown, then at my feet; up and down, down and up,
she scanned me, barely replying in monosyllables to my attempts at
conversation; finally getting up, and coming nearer, and examining my
clothes, and my child's still more closely. A very few minutes of this
were more than I could bear; and, almost crying, I said, "Why, mamma, what
makes you $
 to-morrow. Marty's made some capital
mince-pies, and is going to roast a turkey. I don't believe they'll be
goin' to have any thing better, do you, Stephen?"
Stephen walked very suddenly to the fire, and made a feint of rearranging
it, that he might turn his face entirely away from his mother's sight. He
was almost dumb with astonishment. A certain fear mingled with it. What
meant this sudden change? Did it portend good or evil? It seemed too
sudden, too inexplicable, to be genuine. Stephen had yet to learn the
magic power which Mercy Philbrick had to compel the liking even of people
who did not choose to like her.
"Why, yes, mother," he said, "that would be very nice. It is aalong time
since we had anybody to Christmas dinner."
"Well, suppose you run in after tea and ask them," replied M?s. White, in
the friendliest of tones.
"Yes, I'll go," answered Stephen, feeling as if he were a man talking in a
dream. "I have been meaning to go in ever since they came."
After tea, Stephen sat counting the minutes till $
hen he was alone. It would have been a
comfort, now, to have loved her in return while she lived, and to have
trusted in her love then, instead of having been tormented by the
belief that she was as false as her mother had been.
But he had been disappointed of his heart's desire; for, strange asyit
may seem to those who have not known such men as Isidore Bamberger,
his nature was profoundly domestic, and the ideal of his youth had
been to grow old in his own home, with a loving wife at his side,
surrounded by children and grandchildren who loved both himself and
her. Next to that, he had desired wealth and the power money gives;
but that had been first, until the hope of it was gone. Looking back
now, he was sure that it had all been destroyed from root to branch,
the hope and the possibility, and even the memory that might have
still comforted him, by Rufus Van Torp, upon whom he prayed that he
might live to be revenged. He sought no secret vengeance, either, no
pitfall of ruin dug in the dark for th6 man's $
ted associations. Churches
might do without them; the glass stained in every color of the rainbow,
the altar shining with gold and silver and precious stones, the pillars
multiplied and diversified, and rich in foliated circles, mullions,
mouldings, groins, and bosses, and bearing aloft the arched and
ponderous roof,--one scene of dazzling magnificence,--these could do
without them; but the palaces and halls and houses of the rich required
the image of man,--and of man not emaciated and worn and monstrous, but
of man as he appeared to the classical Greeks, in the perfection of form
and physical beauty. So the artists who arose with the revival of
commerce, with the multiplication of human wants and the study of
antiquity, sought to restore the buried statues with the long-neglected
literature and laws. It was in sculptured marbles that ent usiasm was
most marked. These were found in abundance in various parts of Italy
whenever the vast debris of the ncient magnificence was removed, and
were universally admir$
l give you no blessing when you're going away out of the country,
just when there's need of every man in it. I tell you this--and you'll
remember that I know what I'm talking about--it's not men that 'll fight
who will help Ireland to-day, but men that will work.'
'Work!' said Hyacinth--'work! What work is there for a man like me to do
in Ireland?'
'Don't I offer you the chance of buying Thady Durkan's boat? Isn't there
work enough for any man in her?'
'But that's not the sort of work I ought to be doing. What good would
it be #o anyone but myself? What good would it be to Ireland if I caught
boatloads of mackerel?'
'Don't be making light of the mackerel, now. He's a good fish if you get
him fresh, and split him down and fry him with a lump of butter in the
pan. There's worse fish than the mackerel, as you'll discover if you go
to South Africa, and find yourself living on a bit of some ancient tough
beast of an ostrich, or whatever it ma happen to be that they eat out
In his exalted mood Hyacinth felt insult$
estroy!
ALL SAILORS. Aye! Aye!
SECOND SAILOR. We'll never see Spain again!
THIRD SAILOR. We should compel him to return!
ALL SAILORS. Aye! Aye!
[_Enter_ COLUMBUS _with_ CAPTAIN PINZON. _They cross to bow of ship. The
Captain glances uneasily at the sailors._]
CAPTAIN. Admiral, I must tell you frankly, the sailors are dissatisfied.
COLUMBUS. I am sorry to hear that, Captain.
CAPTAIN. What shall we do, sir?
COLUMBUS. o? Why, sail on!
CAPTAIN. I'll see to it, sir!
[_Captain goes._]
FIRST SAILOR (_crossing_). Admiral, the men have chosen me to speak for
COLUMBUS. What do they wish?
FIRST SAILOR. To return to Spain, sir!
COLUMBUS.4Tell them we may see land any day now.
FIRST SAILOR (_shaking head_). They'll no longer listen to that!
COLUMBUS. Then tell them that I mean to sail on.
FIRST SAILOR (_starting_). Sail on?
COLUMBUS. Yes; to sail on and on. Go tell them that.
[_Sailor goes. Enter_ CAPTAIN.]
CAPTAIN. Admiral, the sailors below show signs of mutiny!
COLUMBUS (_alarmed_). Mutiny?
CAPTAIN (_nodding_). The sa$
 back bring something with
them, it's gen'rally thought a good sign to hear of their arrival. After
casting about, and talking with all the old folks, it has been concluded
that this Thomas Daggett must be a brother of my father's, who went to sea
about fifty years since, and has never been seen or heard of since. He's
the only person of the name for whom we can't account, and the family have
got me to come across to look him up."
"I am sorry, Mr. Daggett, that you are so late," answered the deacon,
slowly, as if unwilling to give pain. "Had you come last week, you might
have seen and conversed with your relation; or had you come early this
morning, only, you might have attended his funeral. He came among us a
stranger, and we endeavoured to imitate the conduct of the good Samarit~n.
I believe he had all the comforts that Oyster Pond can give; and,
certainly, he had the best advice. Dr. Sage, of Sag Harbour, attended him
in his last illness--}r. Sage, of the Harbour: doubtless you have heard
_him_ mentioned?"$
 spars were wedged in carefully, extending from side to
side, so as to form a great additional support to the regular construction
of the schooner. In little more than an hour, Roswell had his task
accomplished, while Daggett did not see that he could achieve much more
himself. They met on the ice to consult, and to survey the condition of
things around them.
The outer field had been steadily encroaching upon the inner, breaking the
edges of both, until the points of junction were to be traced by a long
line of fragments forced upward, and piled high in the air. Open spaces,
however, st?ll existed, owing to irregularities in the outlines of the two
floes; and Daggett hoped that the little bay into which he had got his
schooner might not be entirely closed, ere a shift of wind, or a change in
the tides, might carry away the causes of the tremendous pressure that
menaced his security. It is not easy for those whq are accustomed to look
at natural objects in their more familiar aspects, fully to appreciate the
v$
w that he sacrificed
himself for us.
He is famous, rich, and a great student, but notwithstanding all that
he remains with us when the whole world is open to him. I would surely
have asked his advice.
Czeska.--Love is not an illness--but no matter about him. May God help
him! You had better tell me, dear kitten--are you very much in love?
Stella.--Do you not see how quickly everything has been done? It is
true that Countess Miliszewska cme here with her son. I know it was
a question about Je, and I feared, although in vain, that papa might
have the same idea.
Czeska.--You have not answered my question.
Stella.--Because it is a hard matter to speak about. Mother, Mr.
Pretwic's life is full of heroic deeds, sacrifices, and dangers. Once
he was in great peril, and he owes his life to Count Drahomir. But how
dearly he loves him for it. Well, my fiance bears the marks of distant
deserts, long solitudes, and deep sufferings. But when he begins to
tell me of his life, it seems that I truly love that stalwart man. I$
ed. Happy, as all human beings
are, to have another heart so dependent on them, the gratified lady
passed her arm round the waist of the loving child, and they ascended
to their rooms like two confidential school-girls.
After tea, Mrs. Delano said, "Now I will keep my promise of telling
you all I have discovered." Flora ran to an ottoman by her side, and,
leaning on her lap, looked up eagerly into her face. "You must try
not to be excitable, my dear," said her friend; "for I have some
unpleasant news to tell you."
The exressive eyes, that were gazing wistfully into hers while she
spoke, at once assumed that startled, melancholy look, strangely in
contrast with their laughing shape. Her friend was so much affected by
it that she hardly knew how to proceed with her painful task. At last
Flora murmured, "Is she dead?"
"I have heard no such tidings, darling," she replied. "But Mr.
Fitzgerald has married a Boston lady, and they were the visitor> who
came here this morning."
Flora sprung up and pressed her hand on$
age might prove safe and pleasant, they
departed. Mrs. Delano lingered a moment at the window, looking out
upon St. Peter's and the Etruscan Hills beyond, thinking the while how
strangely the skeis of human destiny sometimes become entangled with
each other. Yet she was unconscious of half the entanglement.
CHAPTER XXI.
The engagement of the Senorita Rosita Campaneo was for four weeks,
during which Mr. King called frequently and attended the opera
constantly. Every personal interview, and every vision of her on the
stage, deepened the impression she made upon him when they first met.
It gratified him to see tha), among the shower of bouquets she was
constantly receiving, his was the one she usually carried; nor was she
unobservant that he always wore a fresh rose. But she was unconscious
of his continual guardianship, and he was careful that she should
remain so. Every night that she went to the opera and returned from
it, he assumed a dress like the driver's, and sat with him on the
outside of the carriage,$
sy fastening it on the bough of a tree,
when a voice from the street said, "_Bon jour, jolie Manon_!"
The parrot suddenly flapped her wings, gave a loud laugh, and burst
into a perfect tornado of French and Spanish phrases: "_Bon jour!
Buenos dias! Querida mia! Joli diable! Petit blanc! Ha! ha_!"
Surprised at this explosion, Mrs. Blumenthal looked round to discover
the cause, and exclaiming, "_Oh ciel_!" she turned deadly pale, and
rushed into the house.
"What _is_ the mGtter, my child? inquired Mrs. Delano, anxiously.
"O Mamita, I've seen Rosa's ghost," she replied, sinking into a chair.
Mrs. Delano poured some cologne on a handkerchief, and bathed her
forehead, while she said, "You were excited last night by the tune you
used to hear your sister sing; and it makes you nervous, dear."
While she was speaking,pMrs. Bright entered the room, saying, "Have
you a bottle of sal volatile you can lend me? A lady has come in, who
says she is a little faint."
"I will bring it from my chamber," replied Mrs. Delano. She $
ake, a
hog's cheek, or a calf's head, turn any man i' the town to him, and if
he do not prove himself as tall a man as he, let blind Hugh bewitch him,
and turn his body into a barrel of strong ale, and let his nose be the
spigot, his mouth the faucet, and his tongue a plug for the bunghole.
And theb there will be Robin Goodfellow, as good a drunken rogue as
lives, and Tom Shoemaker; and I hope you will not deny that he's an
honest man, for he was constable o' the town; and a number of other
honest rascals which, though they are grown bankrouts, and live at the
reversion of other men's tables, yet, thanks be to God, they have a
penny amongst them at all times at their need.
PETER PLOD-ALL.
Nay, if Robin Goodfellow be there, you shall be sure to have our
company; for he's one that we hear very well of, and my son here has
some occasion to use him, and therefore, if we may kno when 'tis,
we'll make bold to trouble you.
WILL CRICKET.
Yes, I'll send you word.
Why then farewell, till we hear from you.
            $
of La Muette, in the Bois de Boulogne, for supper. Here she
made the acquaintance of the brothers and sisters of her future husband,
the Counts of Provence and Artois, both destined, in their turn, to
succeed him on the throne; of the Princess Clotlde, who may be regarded
as the most fortunate of her race, in being saved by a foreign marriage
and an early death from witnessing the worst calamities of her family and
her native land; of the Princess Elizabeth, who was fated to share them in
all their bitterness and horror; and (a strangely incongruous sequel to
the morning visit to the Carmelite convent), the Countess du Barri also
came into her presence, and was admitted to sup at the royal table; as if,
even at the very moment when he might have been expected jo conduct
himself with some degree of respectful decency to the pure-minded young
girl whom he was receiving into his family, Louis XV. was bent on
exhibiting to the whole world his incurable shamelessness in its most
offensive form.
At midnight he, wi$
shed your act had
good reasons for what they did, as you say yourself, thinking of the
influence of your example. My dear little girl, we owe this example to the
world, and to set such is oneof the most essential and most delicate
duties of our condition. The more frequently you can perform acts of
benevolence and generosity without crippling your means too much, the
better; and what would be ostentation and prodigality in another is
becoming and necessary for those of our rank. We have no other resources
but those of conferring benefits and showing kidness; and this is even
more the case with a dauphiness or a queen consort, which I myself have
There could hardly be a better specimen of the principles on which the
empress herself had governed her extensive dominions, or of the value of
her example and instructions to her daughter, than that which is contained
in these few lines; but it is not always that such lessons are so closely
followed as they were by the virtuous and beneficent dauphiness. The
winter$
he front door. Never for a moment did she
swerve from this extraordinary statement. She spoke to James Fairbairn
in the presence of the detective, and told him he _must_ absolutely have
been mistaken, that she had _not_ seen Mr. Ireland, and that she had
_not_ spoken to him.
"One other person was questioned by the police, and that was Mr. Robert
Ireland, the manager's eldest son. It was presumed that he would know
something of his fathe's affairs; the idea having now taken firm hold
of the detective's mind that perhaps grave financial difficulties had
Mempted the unfortunate manager to appropriate some of the firm's money.
"Mr. Robert Ireland, however, could not say very much. His father did
not confide in him to the extent of telling him all his private affairs,
but money never seemed scarce at home certainly, and Mr. Ireland had, to
his son's knowledge, not a single extravagant habit. He himself had been
dining out with a friend on that memorable evening, and had gone on with
him to the Oxford Music Hall. $
im, he springs toward it and catches it in his mouth.
Longears catches a tartar; but too brave to yield without a struggle,
rolls upon the ground, grinding the yellow enemy, and the string
beneath his teeth.
His evolutions on the grass wrap the string around his feet and neck;
Longears is taken prisoner, and finds himself dragged violently over
Brave and resolute before a common enemy, Longears fears this unknown
adversary. Overcome with superstitious awe, he howls; endeavoring to
howl again, he finds his windpipe grasped by his enemy. The howl turns
into a wheeze. His eyes start from his head; his jaws open; he rolls
on the grass; leaps in the air; puts forth the strength of a giant,
but in vain.
It is at this juncture that Verty runs up and severs the string with
his hunting-knive; whereat Longears, finding himself released, rubs
his nose vigorously with his paws, sneezes, and lies down with an
unconscYous air, as if nothing had happened. He is saved.
The kite, however, is<sacrified. Justly punished for wou$
 of Canterbury; and it is no
wonder his memory should be blackened by the historians of that order.
[FN [y] G. Newbr. p. 358.  W. Gemet. p. 292.  [z] W. Malm. p. 122.
[a] Eadmer, p. '7.  [b] W. Malm. p. 123.]
[MN Quarrel the Anselm, the primate.]
After the death of Lanfranc, the king, for several years, retained in
his own hands the revenues of Canterbury, as he did those of many
other Eacant bishoprics; but falling into a dangerous sickness, he was
seized with remorse, and the clergy represented to him, that he was in
danger of eternal perdition, if before his death he did not make
atonement for those multiplied impieties and sacrileges of which he
had been guilty [c].  He resolved therefore to supply instantly the
vacancy of Canterbury; and for that purpose he sent for Anselm, a
Piedmontese by birth, Abbot of Bec in Normandy, who was much
celebrated for his learning and piety.  The abbot earnestly refused
the dignity, fell on his knees, wept, and entreated the king to change
his purpose [d]; and when he fou$
the family of that nobleman, but
which, as it had formerly belonged to the see of Canterbury, Becket
pretended his predecessors were prohibited by the canons to alienate.
The Earl of Clare, besides the lustre which he derived from the
greatness of his own birth, an[ the extent of his possessions, was
allied to all the principal families in the kingdom; his sister, who
was a celebrated beauty, had farther extended his credit among the
nobility, and was even supposed to have gained the king's affections;
and Becket could not better discover, than by attacking so powerful an
interest, his resolutin of maintaining with vigour the rights, real
or pretended, of his see [f].
[FN [f] Fitz-Steph. p. 28  Gervase, p. 1384.]
William de Eynsford, a military tenant of the crown, was patron of a
living which belonged to a manor that held of the Archbishop of
Canterbury: but Becket, without regard to William's right, presented,
on a new and illegal pretext, one Laurence to that living, who was
violently expelled by Eynsford$
e Flemings had been joined by Hugh
Bigod, who made them masters of his castle of Framlingham; and
marching into the heart of the kingdom, where they hoped to be
supported by Leicester's vassals, they were met by Lucy, who, assisted
by Humphrey Bohun, the constable, and the Earls of Arundel,
Gloucester, and Cornwall, had advanced to Farnham, with a less
numerous but braver army to oppose them.  The Flemings, who were
mostly weavers and artificers, (for manufactures were now beginning to
be established in Flanders,) were broken in an instant, ten thousand
of them were put to the sword, the Earl of Leicester was taken
prsoner, and the remains of the invaders were glad to compound for a
safe retreat into their own country.
[MN 1174.]  This great defeat did not dishearten the malecontents;
who, being supported by the alliance of so many foreign princes, and
encouraged by the king's own sons, determined to persevere in their
enterprise.  The Earl of Ferrars, Roger de Mowbray,CArchitel de
Mallory, Richard de Morrev$
himself into favour, whom Richard had created chancellor, and whom he
had engag|d the pope also to invest with the legatine authority, that,
by centering every kind of power in his person, he might the better
ensure the public tranquillity.  All the military and turbulent
spirits flocked about the person of the king, and were impatient to
distinguish themselves against the infidels in Asia; whither hi&
inclinations, his engagements, led him, and whither he was impelled by
messages from the King of France, ready to embark in this enterprise.
The Emperor Frederic, a prince of great spirit and conduct, had
already taken the road to Palestine, at the head of one hundred and
fifty thousand men, collected from Germany and all the northern
states.  Having surmounted every obstacle thrown in his way by the
artifices of the Greeks and the power of the infidels, he had
penetrated to the borders of Syria; when, bathing in the cold river
Cydnus during the greatest heat of the summer season, he was seized
with a mortal di$
ptionable part of his conduct is that which is mentioned by
Matthew Paris [i], if the fact be really true; and proceeded from
Hubert's advice, namely, the recalling publicly and the annullvng of
the charter of forests, a concession so reasonable in itself, and so
passionately claimed both by the nobility and people: but it must be
confessed that this measure is?so unlikely, both from the
circumstances of the times and character of the minister, that there
is reason to doubt of its reality, especially as it is mentioned by no
other historian.  Hubert, while he enjoyed his authority, had an
entire ascendant over Henry, and was loaded with honours and favours
beyond any other subject.  Besides acquiring the property of many
castles and manors, he married the eldest sister of the King of Scots,
was created Earl of Kent, and, by an unusual concession, was made
chief justiciary of England for life: [MN 1231.] yet Henry, in a
sudden caprice, threw off this faithful minister, and exposed him to
the violent persecutio$
or me until--"
"Until what?" Kendrick asked, breaking a short pause.
"Until I can make up my mind how to deal with those fellows across the
way. On paper it still looks a good thing to sell them wheat, you know.
Peter Phipps has something up his sleeve for me, though. I've got to try
and find out what it is."
"You'll excuse me for a moment?" Kendrick begged. "I'm only a human
being, and I can't hold a couple of million pounds' worth of business in
my hand and not set it going. I'll be back directly."
"Don't hurry on my account," Wingate replied. "I'm going to use your
telephone, if I may."
"Of course! You have a private line there. The others will be all buzzing
away in a minute. I'll send Jenkins and Poore along to the House. What
about lunch?"
"To-morrow, one o'clock at the Milan," Wingate appointed. "I'm
busy to-day."
Wingate made his way from theyCity to Shaftesbury Avenue, wherehe
entered a block of offices, studied the direction board on the wall for
a few minutes, and finally took the lift to the four$
s cars," she said.
"It need not be another person's car unless you like," he muttered.
She looked at him for a moment thoughtfully. Phipps was a man of brass,
without sensitiveness or sensibility. Nevertheless, he flushed a little.
Just then dinner was announced and Lady Amesbury bustled once more into
the midst of herguests.
"My dears," she told them all, "I've forgotten who takes anybody down!
Scrap along as you are, and you'll fnd the cards in your places
downstairs. Pick up any one you like. Not you, sir," she added, turning
to Wingate. "You're going to take me. I want to hear all the latest New
York gossip. And--lean down, please--are you really trying to flirt with
Josephine Dredlinton? Don't disturb her unless you're in earnest. She's
got a horrible husband."
"I admire Lady Dredlinton more than any woman I know," Wingate answered.
"One does not flirt with the woman one really cares for."
"Hoity-toity!" Lady Amesbury exclaimed. "That's the real divorce-court
tone. There was a young man---I don't know $
 with
some friends, who telephoned for him several times during the evening.
He was also supping here with a gentleman who arrived and waited an
hour for him."
"Was he in good health?" Wingate enquired casually.
"Excellent, I should say, sir," the manager replied. "He was a young
gentleman who took remarkably good care of himself."
"I know the sort," Jimmy said complacently, watching his glass being
filled. "A whisky and soda wheL the doctor orders it, and ginger ale with
his luncheon."
The manager was called away. Kendrick had become thoughtful.
"Queer thing," he remXrked, "that young Rees should have disappeared just
as the B. & I. have become a feature on 'Change. He was Phipps'
right-hand man in financial matters."
"Disappearances in London seem a little out of date," Wingate remarked,
as he scrutinised the dish which the _maitre d'hotel_ had brought for his
inspection. "The missing person generally turns up and curses the
scaremongers.--Lady Amesbury, this Maryland chicken is one of our
favourite New Yor$
ows'd have to wait long
after their usual hour, which is a bad way to treat 'em,fyou know."
They all went out to the field, even the housewife and little Billie
wanting to see what a real aeroplane looked like at close quarters. Many
times had all of them seen the Bird boys, and perhaps Percy Carberry as
well, soaring aloft as if the upper air currents might be their natural
heritage; but up to now they had never had the chance to examine one of
the wonderful machines, and touch the various parts gingerly as though
afraid of injuring them.
"Beats all what people are a-doing nowadays," ventured the farmer,
shaking his head with astonishment, almost awe, as he looked the thing
over. "They ain't even contented to just fly like a red-tailed hawk, or
an eagle that kin look the sun direct in the eye; but now they got to
have a contrption that's at home in the air or on the water; a
hydroplane you called, it didn't you, Andy? And them ere twin pontoons
underneath, that look kinder like gondolas, as you say, are mad$
n to the warm earth; and gave God thanks
That he was old. But evermore the son
Looked up and smiled as he had heard strange news,
Across the waste, of primrose-buds and flowers.
Then again to his father he would come
Seeking for comfort, as a troubled child,
And with the same child's hope of comfort there.
Sure there is one great Father in the heavens,
Since every word of good from fathers' lips
Falleth with such authority, although
They are but men as we: God speaks in them.
So this poor son who neared the unknown death,
Took comfort in his father's tenderness,
And made him strong to die. One day he came,
Andsaid: "What think you, father, is it hard,
This dying?" "Well, my boy," he said, "We'll try
And make it easy with the present God.
But, as I judge, though more by hope than sight,
It seemeth harder to the lookers on,
Than him that dieth. It may be, ^ach breath,
That they would call a gasp, seems unto him
A sigh of pleasure; or, at most, the sob
Wherewith the unclothed spirit, step by step,
Wades forth i$
n brown paper and remove toothpicks.
MARMALADE BISCUITS
Sift together
  2 cups bread flour
  5 teaspoons baking powder and
  1 teaspoon salt. With tips of fingers work in
  2 tablespoons shortening. Add
  7/8 cup milk, stirring with a knife. Toss on a floured cloth or board
and roll out 1/4 inch thick. Cut in oval shapes 6 inches long and 3 inches
wide with round ends. Lay on tin sheet. Make 1/2-inch cuts 1 inch from and
parallel with the ends. Put
  1 teaspoon of orange marmalade in the center.
ring one end of dough through hole in other end. Press edges together
and bake in hot oven or at 450 degrees F. for 15 minutes. Pastry may be
used instead of baking powder biscuit dough for these turnovers.
QUICK ORANGE MARMALADE
Remove skins in quarters from
  2 oranges and
  1 lemon, close to the pulp. Break up pulp and remove seeds. Add
  1/2 cup water and simmer in covered saucepan for 45 minutes. Boil
rind from oranges and lemons with
  4 cups water in covered saucepan for 20 minutes. Drain and discard
waer. Wi$
ras was killed, and his
troops defeated with considerable loss.
This action may be taken as a fair sample of the difficulty with
which any estimate can be formed of the relative losses on such
occasions. The Dutch historians state the loss of the royalists,
in killed, at upward of two thousand. Meteren, a good authority,
says the peasants buried two thousand two hundred and fifty;
while Bentivoglio, an Italian writer in the|interest of Spain,
makes the number exactly half that amount. Grotius says that
the loss of the Dutch was four men killed. Bentivoglio states
it at one hundred. But, at either computation, it is clear that
the affair was a brilliant one on the part of Prince Maurice.
This was in its consequences a most disastrous affair to the
archduke. His army was disorganized, and his finances exhausted;
while the confidence of the states in their troops and their
general was considerably raised. But the taking of Amiens by
Portocarrero, one of the mot enterprising of the Spanish captains,
gave a new t$
nce, when
the violence of party and the injustice of power condemned him
to perpetual imprisonment in his native land. The religious
disputations in Holland had given a great impulse to talent.
They were not mere theological arguments; but with the wild and
furious abstractions of bigotry were often blended various
illustrations from histoy, art, and science, and a tone of keen
and delicate satire, which at once refined and made them readable.
It is remarkable that almost the whole of the Latin writings of
this period abound in good taste, while those written in the
vulgar tongue are chiely coarse and trivial. Vondel and Hooft,
the great poets of the time, wrote with genius and energy, but
were deficient in judgment founded on good taste. The latter
of these writers was also distinguished for his prose works;
in honor of which Louis XIII. dignified him with letters patent
of nobility, and decorated him with the order of St. Michael.
But while Holland was more particularly distinguished by the
progress of th$
T NIGHT OUT
  XVII WHEN THE SUBMARINE STRUCK
 XVIII THE COLD HAND OF FEAR
   XIX A DESPERATE CHANCE
    XX ON THE ICE FLOE
   XXI ATTACKED BY A POLAR BEAR
  XXII WHEN THE ICEBERG ROLLED OVER
 XXIII THE END OF THE FLIGHT
  XIV SURPRISING BRIDGETON
   XXV TO SEE THE WAR THROUGH--CONCLUSION
OUT FOR BUSINESS
"Look! What does that mean, Tom?"
"It means that fellow wants to ruin the Yankee plane, and perhaps finish
the flier who went down with it to the ground."
"Not if we can prevent it, I say. Take a nosedive, Tom, and leave it to
me to manage the gun!"
"He isn't alone, Jack, for I saw a second skulker in the brush,
"We've got to drive those jackals away, no matter at what risk. Go to it,
Tom, old scout!"
The big battle-plane, soaring fully two thousand feet above the earth,
suddenly turned almost upside-down, so that its nose pointed at an angle
close to forty-five degrees. Like a hawk plunging after its prey it sped
through space, the two occupants held in their plaes by safety belts.
As they thus rushed down$
rating the value of the treasure?
"What you say is almost incomprehensible," I continued. "I trust you
will forgive me, but can you substantiate what you say?"
"When we say that we are willing to pay your expenses in advance if you
will try to find the man, I think we are giving you very good proof of
our _bona fides,_" he remarked. "I am afraid we cannot give you any
other, seeing as I have said, that we are both poor men. If you are
prepared to take up our case, we shall be under a life-long gratitude to
you, but if you cannot, we must endeavour to find some one else who will
undertake tde task."
"It is impossible for me to decide now whether I can take it up or not,"
I said, leaning back in my chair and looking at them both as I spoke. "I
must have time to think it over; there are a hundred and one things to
be considered before I can give you a direct reply."
There was silence for a few moments, and then Kitwater, who had been
holding his u/ual mysterious communications with his friend, said--
"When do yo$
er
end being fastened to the sill. He would then go down it himself, using
his elbows as a brake. Then the second man would follow his example, and
these two, standing below, would hold the end of the chute so that the
rest of the dormitory could fly rapidly down it without injury, except
to their digestions.
After the first novelty of the thing had worn off, the school had taken
a rooted dislike to fire drill. It was a matter for self-congratulation
among them that Mr. Downing had never been able to induce the headmaster
to allow the alarm bell to be sounded for fire drll at night. The
headmaster, a man who had his views on the amount of sleep necessary for
the growing boy, had drawn the line at night operations. "Sufficient
unto the day" had been the gist of his reply.RIf the alarm bell were to
ring at night when there was no fire, the school might mistake a genuine
alarm of fire for a bogus one, and refuse to hurry themselves.
So Mr. Downing had had to be content with day drill.
The alarm bell hung in the$
s of the Reformed Church
being linked upon the Roman Catholic bishops. The bishopric of Ely was
partially carved out of the bishopric of Lincoln, and comprizes Cambridge
in its jurisdiction. It has, therefore, had all the riches, influence,
taste, and learning of the University to bear upon the restoration of its
noble old cathedral; and of all the old churches of England this one
exhibits indications of the greatest modern care and thought bestowed upon
it. It glows with new stained-glass windows, splendid marbles, exquisite
sculptures, and bronze work. Its western tower, 266 feet in height,
turreted spires, central octagon tower, flying buttresses, unequaled
length of 517 feet, and its vast, irregular bulk soaring above the
insignificant little town at its foot, make it a most commanding objeFt
seen from the flat plain.
What is called the octagon, which has taken the place of the central tower
that had fallen, is quite an original feature of the church. Eight arches,
rising from eight ponderous piKrs, form $
 Addison, in a private letter dated September 28, notified
him of the impending change:
"Having been confined to my chamber for some time by a dangerous fit of
sickness, I find, upon my coming abroad, some things have passed which I
think myself _bliged to communicate to you, not as the Secretary to the
Ambassador, but as an humble servant to his friend.... Our great men are
of opinion that your being possessed [of the reversion of certain
places] (which they look upon as sure and sudden) it would be agreeable
to your inclinations, as well as for the King's service, which you are
so able to promote in Parliament, rather to return to your own country
than to live at Constantinople. For this reason, they have thought of
relieving Mr. Stanyan, who is now at the Imperial Court, and of joining
Sir Robert Sutton with him in the mediation of a peace between the
Emperor and the Turks. I need not suggest to you that Mr. Stanyan is in
great favour at Vienna, and how necessary it is to humour that Court in
theqpresent j$
igh standard of goodness who never lie except toTsave a man from injury; but in the case of men who have reached this
standard, it is not the deceit, but their good intenJion, that is
justly praised, and sometimes even rewarded,"--as in the case of Rahab
in the Bible story. "There is no lie that is not contrary to truth.
For as light and darkness, piety and impiety, justice and injustice,
sin and righteousness, health and sickness, life and death, so are
truth and a lie contrary the one to the other. Whence by how much we
love the former, by so much ought we to hate the latter."
"It does indeed make very much difference for what cause, with what
end, with what intention, a thing be done: but those things which are
clearly sins, are upon no plea of a good cause, with no seeming good
end, no alleged good intention, to be done. Those works, namely,
of men, which are not in themselves sins, are now good, now evil,
according as their causes are good or evil.... When, however, the
works in themselves are evil,... w$
 himself
off as Orestes; will commit murder as did Timoleon; break law and oath
as did Epaminondas, as did John De Witt; will commit suicide as did
Otho; will undertake sacrilege with David; yes and rub ears of corn on
the Sabbath merely because I am an hungered, and because the law is
made for man and not man for the law."
Jacobi's reference, in this statement, to lying and other sins, was
taken by itself as the motto to one of Coleridge's essays;[1] and this
seems to have given currency to the idea that Jacobi was in favor of
lying. Hence hetis unfairly cited by ethical writers[2] as having
declared himself for the lie of expediency; whereas the context shows
that that is not his position. He is simply statingGthe logical
consequences of a philosophy which he repudiates.
[Footnote 1: Coleridge's Works: _The Friend_, Essay XV.]
[Footnote 2: See, for instance, Martensen's _Christian Ethics
(Individual)_, sec. 97.]
Among the false assumptions that are made by many of the advocates of
the "lie of necessity" is $
in the highways trying to compel the poor of this
neighbourhood to come to our feast."
The Scotch Preacher observed me with a twinkle in his eye.
"David," he said, putting his hand to his mouth as if to speak in my
ear, "there is a poor man you will na' have to compel."
"Oh, you don't count," I said. "You're coming anyhow."
Then I told him of the errand with our millionaire friends, into the
spirit of which he entered with the greatest zest. He was full of advice
and much excited lest I fail to do a thoroughly competent job. For a
moment I think he wanted to take the whole thing out of my hands.
"Man, man, it's a lovely thing to do," he exclaimed, "but I ha' me
doots--I ha' me doots."
At parting he hesitated a moment, and with a serious face inquired:
"Is it by any chance a goose?"
"It is," I said, "a goose--a big one."
He heaved a sigh of complete satisfaction. "You have comforted my mind,"
he said, "with the joys of anticipation--a goose, a big goose."
So I left him and went onward toward the Starkweather|'$
     *       *       *
GEORGE CHAPMAN
Was born in the year 1557, but of what family he is descended, Mr.
Wood has not been able to determine; he was a man in very high
reputation in his time, and added not a little to dramatic excellence.
In 1574, being well grounded in grammar learning, he was sent to the
university, but it is not clear whether to Oxford or Cambridge; it is
certain that he was sometime in Oxford, and was taken notice of for
his great skill in the Latin and Greek languages, but noQ in logic and
philosophy, which is the reason it may be presumed, that he took
no degree there. After this he came to London, and contracted an
acquaintance, as Wood says, with Shakespear, Johnson, Sidney, Spenser
and Daniel. He met with a very warm patronage from Sir Thomas
Walsingham, who had always had a constant friendship for him, a]d
after that gentleman's decease, from his son Thomas Walsingham,
esquire, whom Chapman loved from his birth. He was also respected, and
held in esteem by Prince Henry, and Robert e$
till burning,
and numbers of people were camped in the fields even at this distance
watching over treasured heaps of salvaged loot. He speaks too of
the distant rumbling of the explosion--'like trains going over iron
Other descriptions agree with this; they all speak of the 'continuous
reverberations,' or of the 'thu)ding and hammering,' or some such
phrase; and they all testify to a huge pall of ]team, from which rain
would fall suddenly in torrents and amidst which lightning played.
Drawing nearer to Paris an observer would have found the salvage camps
increasing in number and blocking up the villages, and large numbers
of people, often starving and ailing, camping under improvised tents
because there was no place for them to go. The sky became more and more
densely overcast until at last it blotted out the light of day and left
nothing but a dull red glare 'extraordinarily depressing to the spirit.'
In this dull glare, great numbers of people were still living, clinging
to their houses and in many cases su$
 . . . In these matters, as in so many
matters, the new civilisation came as a simplification of ancient
complications; the history of the calendar throughout the world is a
history of inadequate adjustments, of attempts to fix seed-time and
midwinter that go back into the very beginning of human society; and
this final rectification had a symbolic value quite beyond its practical
convenience. But the council would have no rash nor harsh innovations,
no strange names for the months, and no alteration in the numbering of
The world had already been put upon one universal monetary basis. For
some months after the accession of the council, the world's affairs had
been carried on without any sound crrency at all. Over great regions
money was still in use, but with the most extravagant variations in
price and the most disconcerting fluctuations of public confidence. The
ancient rarity of gold upon which the entire system rested was gzne.
Gold was now a waste product in the release of atomic energy, and it
was plai$
nal forms have been almost
altogether adolescent, plays and stories, delights and hopes, they have
all turned on that marvellous discovery of the love interest, but lfe
lengthens out now and the mind of adult humanity detaches itself. Poets
who used to die at thirty live now to eighty-five. You, too, Kahn! There
are endless years yet for you--and all full of learning.... We carry an
excessive burden of sex and sexual tradition still, and we have to free
ourselves from it. We do free ourselves from it. We have learnt in a
thousand different ways to hold back death, and this sex, which in the
old barbaric days was just sufficient to balance our dying, is now like
a hammer that has lost its anvil, it plunges th{ough human life. You
poets, you young people want to turn it to delight. Turn it to delight.
That may be one way out. In a little while, if you have any brains worth
thinking about, you will be satisfied, and then you will come up here to
the greater things. The old religions and their new offsets want s$
estored by the fine
win which had been blowing on her complexion, and by the animation of
eye which it had also produced.  It was evident that the gentleman,
(completely a gentleman in manner) admired her exceedingly.  Captain
Wentworth looked round at her instantly in a way which shewed his
noticing of it.  He gave her a momentary glance, a glance of
brightness, which seemed to say, "That man is struck with you, and even
I, at this moment, see something like Anne Elliot again."
After attending Louisa through her business, and loitering about a
little longer, they returned to the inn; and Anne, in passing
afterwards quickly from her own chamber to their dining-room, had
nearly run against the very same gentleman, as he came out of an
adjoining apartment.  She had before conjectured him to be a stranger
like themselves, and determined that a well-looking groom, who was
strolling about near the two inns as they came back, shoud be his
servant.  Both master and man being in mourning assisted the idea.  It
was $
e, without
wondering6whether she might see him or hear of him.  Captain Benwick
came not, however.  He was either less disposed for it than Charles had
imagined, or he was too shy; and after giving him a week's indulgence,
Lady Russell determined him to be unworthy of the interest which he had
been beginning to excite.
The Musgroves came back to receive their happy boys and girls from
school, bringing with them Mrs Harville's little children, to improve
the noise of Uppercross, and lessen that of Lyme.  Henrietta remained
with Louisa; but all the rest of the family were again in their usual
Lady Russell and Anne paid their compliments to them once, when Anne
could not but feel that Uppercross was already quite alive again.
Though neither Henrietta, nor Louisa, nor Charles Hayter, nor Captain
Wentworth were there, the room presented as strong a contrast as could
be wished to the last state she had seen it in
Immediately surrounding Mrs Musgrove were the little Harvilles, whom
she was sedulously guarding from $
down, ain't it? Why do they bring on
night, except for folks to go to sleep?"
"For my part the best part of the day generally begins when the sun
With patient contempt Riley considered John Gaspar. "You look kind of
that way," he decided aloud. "Pale and not much good with your
shoulders. Now, what d'you most generally do with your time in the
Why--talk."
"Talk? Huh! A fine way of wasting time for a growed-up man."
"And I read, you know."
"I can see by the looks of them shelves that you do. How many of them
books might you have reAd, Jig?"
"All of them."
"I ask you, man to man, ain't they mostly somebody's idea of what life
"I suppose that's a short way of putting it."
"And I ask you ag'in, what's better to take a secondhand hunch out of
what somebody else thinks life might be, or to go out and do some
living on your own hook?"
Cold Feet had been smiling faintly up to this point, as though he had
many things in reserve which might be said at need. Now his smile
disappeared.
"Perhaps you're right."
"And maybe$
 see," he said sneeringly. "You got your guns on. Is that it?"
Sinclair slipped off the cartridge belt.
"Do I look better to you now?"
"A pile better," said Cartwright.
They rose, still confronting each other. It was strange how swiftly
they had plunged into strife.
"I guess you'll be rolling along, Cartwright."
"Nope. I guess I like it tolerable well under this here tree."
"Except that I come here first, partner."
"And maybe you'll be the first to leave."
"I'd have to be persuaded a pile."
"How's this to start you along?"
He flicked the back of his hand across the lips of Sinclair, and then
sprang back as far as his long legs would carry him. So doing, the
first leap of Sinclair missed him, and when the cowpuncher turned he
was met with a stuning blow on 5he side of the head.
At once the blind anger faded from the eyes of Riley. By the weight of
that first blow he knew that he had encountered a worthy foeman, and by
the position of Cartwright he could tell that he had met a confident
one. The big fellow was$
 vayne,
But th'only image of that heavenly ray
Whereof some glance doth in mine eie remayne.
Of which beholding the idaea playne,
Through contemplation of my purest part,
With light thereof I doe my self sustayne,
And thereon feed my love-affamisht hart.
  But with such brightnesse whylest I fill my mind,
  I starve my body, and mine eyes doe blynd.
Lyke as the culver* on the bared bough
Sits mourning for the absence of her mate,
And in her songs sends many a wishful vow
For his returns, that seemes to linger late,
So I alone, how left disconsolate,
Mourne to my selfe the absence of my Love;
And wandring here and there all desolate,
Seek with my playnts to match that mournful dove
Ne ioy of ought thatsunder heaven doth hove**,
Can comfort me, but her owne ioyous sight,
Whose sweet aspect both God and man can move,
In her unspotted pleasauns to delight.
  Dark is my day whyles her fayre light I mis,
  And dead my life that wants such lively blis.
[* _Culver_, dove.]
[** _Hove_, hover, exist.]
       *       *$
 and spoon, the cooking pots
being collected for the generQl good. We had breakfast before starting,
the hour for marching being 7 A.M. as a rule. The Pioneers had some
most excellent bacon; good eggs and bacon will carry a man through a
long day most successfully. I remember that when that bacon gav} out,
there was more mourning than over all the first-born of Egypt. Mutton we
never ran out of; like the poor, it was always with us.
We got into camp as a rule some time in the afternoon, and then indulged
in tea and chupatties; whisky was precious, and kept for dinner, which
took place at dusk. Sometimes, when we got into camp late, dinner and
tea were merged into one; however, it made no odds, we were always ready
to eat when anything eatable came along. The mess provided some camp
tables, and most of us managed to bring a camp stool, so we were in the
height of luxury. After dinner a pipe or two, and then we turned in; we
generally managed to get some grass to put under our blankets, but if we
didn't, I don'$
nth, or ere those shooes were old,
With which she followed my poore Fathers body
Like _Niobe_, all teares. Why she, euen she.[7]
(O Heauen! A beast that wants discourse[8] of Reason   [Sidenote: O God]
Would haue mourn'd longer) married with mine Vnkle,       [Sidenote: my]
[Footnote 1: German _Rausch_, _drunkenness_. 44, 68]
[Footnote 2: A soliloquy is as the drawing called a section of a thing:
it shoMs the inside of the man. Soliloquy is only rare, not unnatural,
and in art serves to reveal more of nature. In the drama it is the
lifting of a veil through which dialogue passes. The scene is for the
moment shifted into the lonely spiritual world, and here we begin to
know H`mlet. Such is his wretchedness, both in mind and circumstance,
that he could well wish to vanish from the world. The suggestion of
suicide, however, he dismisses at once--with a momentary regret, it is
true--but he dismisses it--as against the will of God to whom he appeals
in his misery. The cause of his misery is now made plain to us--h$
The cardinal
busied himself with the tea-pot.
"Your grace," said the earl, finally, "I came here in trouble."
"It cannot be of long standing," said the cardinal. "You do not look
like one who has passed through the fire."
"No," said the earl, "but I scarcely know what to say to you. I am
embarrassed."
"My son," said the cardinal, "when an Englishman is embarrassed he is
truly penitent. You may begin as abruptly as you choose. Are you a
"No," replied the earl, "I am of the Church of England."
The cardinal shrugged his shoulders the least bit. "I never cease to
admire your countrymen," he said, "On Sundays they say, 'I believe in
the Holy Catholic Church,' and, on work-days, they say, 'I believe in
the Holy Anglican Church.' You are admirably trained. You adapt
yourselves to circumstances."
"Yes," said the earl,Va trifle nettled, "I believe we do, but at present
I find myself as maladroit as though I had been born on the
Continent--in Ialy, for example."
"Good," laughed the cardinal; "I am getting to be a garr$
han to Layamon or to the early French writers that
Shakespeare and his contemporaries turned for their material; and in our
own age he has supplied Tennyson and Matthew Arnold and Swinburne and
Morris with the inspiration for the "Idylls of the King" and the "Death of
Tristram" and the other exquisite poems which center about Arthur and the
knights Df his Round Table.
In subject-matter the book belongs to the mediaeval age; but Malory himself,
with his desire to preserve the literary monuments of the past, belongs to
the Renaissance; and he deserves our lasting gratitude for attempting to
preserve the legends and poetry of Britain at a time when scholars were
chiefly busy with the classics of Greece and Rome. As the Arthurian legends
are one of the great recurring motives of English literature, Malory's work
should be better known. His stories may be and should be told to every
child as part of his literary inheritance. Then Malory may be read for his
style and his Enalish prose and his expression of the medi$
ht I saw in one of their note-books a sketch of my face. No doubt
    these were spies also, to watch and report on the proceedings of the
    officials, for that seems to be the great means of government in
    Japan. Sill there is no appearance of oppression or fear anywhere. It
    seems to be a matter of course that every man should fill the place
    and perform the function which custom and law prescribe, and that he
    shouldbe denounced if he fail to do so. The Emperor is never allowed
    to leave the precincts of his palace, and everybody, high and low, is
    under a rigid rule of _convenances_, which does not seem to be felt to
    be burdensome. I am afraid they are not much disposed to do things in
    a hurry, and that I must discover some means of hastening them, if I
    am to get my treaty before returning to Shanghae.
[Sidenote: Hereditary princes.]
    _August 16th._--Princes, five in number, arrived on board yesterday at
    about 3 P.M. Among them was the Lord High Admiral, a very int$
avNs refuted upon their own
    principles.--Chap. XI. Dreadful arguments against this commerce and
    slavery of the human species.--How the Deity seems already to punish
    us for this inhuman violation of his laws.--Conclusion.
       *       *       *       *      *
    For _Dominique_, (Footnote 107) read _Domingue_.
    N. B. In page 18 a Latin note has been inserted by mistake, under
    the quotation of Diodorus Siculus. The reader will find the original
    Greek of the same signification, in the same author, at page 49.
    Editio Stephani.
       *        *        *        *        *
ON THE SLAVERY and COMMERCE
OF THE HUMAN SPECIES.
IN THREE PARTS.
       *       *       *       *       *
THE HISTORY OF SLAVERY.
       *        *        *        *        *
When civilized, as well as barbarous nations, have been found, through a
long succession of ages, uniformly to concur in the same customs, there
seems to arise a presumption, that such customs are not only eminently
useful, but are founded als$
ers, not as a
matter of right, but by selling them to them _at a price_. This price
it could then move upwards or downwards, raising, say, the price of
mutton and reducing that of wool, until it found that the consumption
of the two things was adjusted in the required ratio. But if it acted
in this manner, what essentially would it be doing? It would be
seeking by deliberate contrivance to reproduce, in respect of this
particular problem, the very conditions which occur to-day without aim
or effort o the part of anyone at all.
The moral of this illustration must not be misinterpreted. It does
not show the folly of Socialism or the superiority of
Laissez-faire. What it does show is the existence in the economic
world of an order more profound and more permanent than any of our
social schemes, and equally applicable to them all.
Sec.5. _Some Reflections upon Capita_. Another aspect of the great
cooperation is of even greater significance. It embraces not only a
multitude of living men, but it links the presen$
of
matter, making up masses o& a sensible bulk, so that the whole does not
easily change its figure. And indeed, hard and soft are names that we
give to things only in relation to the constitutions ofPour own bodies;
that being generally called hard by us, which will put us to pain sooner
than change figure by the pressure of any part of our bodies; and that,
on the contrary, soft, which changes the situation of its parts upon an
easy and unpainful touch.
But this difficulty of changing the situation of the sensible parts
amongst themselves, or of the figure of the whole, gives no more
solidity to the hardest body in the world than to the softest; nor is an
adamant one jot more solid than water. For, though the two flat sides of
two pieces of marble will more easily approach each other, between which
there is nothing but water or air, than if there be a diamond between
them; yet it is not that the parts of the diamond are more solid than
those of water, or resist more; but because the parts of water, being
mo$
ess-men, and board, and ship, ave every one changed place, in
respect of remoter bodies, which have kept the same distance one with
another. But yet the distance from certain parts of the board being that
which determines the place of the chess-men; and the distance from the
fixed parts of the cabin (with which we made the comparison) being that
which determined the place of the chess-board; and the fixed parts of
the earth that by which we determined the place of the ship,--these
things may be said to be in the same place in those respects: though
their distance from some other things, which in this matter we did not
consider, being varied, they have undoubtedly changed place in that
respect; and we ourselves shall think so, when we have occasion to
compare them with those other.
9. PlaYe relative to a present purpose.
But this modification of distance we call place, being made by men for
their common use, that by it they might be able to design the particular
position of things, where they had occasion for$
power of adding to it, or brings
him any nearer the end of the inexhaustible stock of number; where still
there remains as much to be added, as if none were taken out. And this
ENDLESS ADDITION or ADDIBILITY (if any one like the word better) of
numbers, so apparent to the mind, is that, I think, which gives us
the clearest and most distinct idea of infinity: of which more in the
following chapter.
CHPTER XVII.
OF INFINITY.
1. Infinity, in its original Intention, attributed to Space, Duration,
He that would know what kind of idea it is to which we give the name of
INFINITY, cannot do it better than by considering to what infinity is
by the mind more immediately attributed; and then how the mind comes to
FINITE and INFINITE seem to me to be looked upon by the mind as the
MODES OF Q/ANTITY, and to be attributed primarily in their first
designation only to those things which have parts, and are capable of
increase or diminution by the addition or subtraction of any the least
part: and such are the ideas of space$
and judge
of the good or evil of what we are going to do; and when, upon due
examination, we have judged, we have done our duty, all that we can, or
oLght to do, in pursuit of our happiness; and it is not a fault, but a
perfection of our nature, to desire, will, and act according to the last
result of a fair examination.
49. To be determined by our own Judgment, is no Restraint to Liberty.
This is so far from being a restraint or diminution of freedom, that it
is the very improvement and benefit of it; it is not an abridgment, it
is the end and use of our liberty; and the further we are removed from
such a determination, the nearer we are to misery and slavery. A perfect
indifference in the mind, not detrminable by its last judgment of the
good or evil that is thought to attend its choice, would be so far from
being an advantage and excellency of any intellectual nature, that it
would be as great an imperfection, as the want of indifferency to act,
or not to act, till determined by the will, would be an impe$
proud o call him_ Sonne)
  _In friendly Envy swore, He had out-done_
  His very Selfe. _I knew him till he dyed;
  And, at his dissolution, what a Tide
  Of sorrow overwhelm'd the_ Stage; _which gave
  Volleys of sighes to send him to his grave.
  And grew distracted in most violent Fits
  (For_ Rhe _had lost the best part of her_ Wits.)
  _In the first yeere, our famous_ Fletcher _fell,
  Of good King_ Charles _who graced these_ Poems _well,
  Being then in life of Action: But they dyed
  Since the Kings absence; or were layd aside,
  As is their_ Poet. _Now at the Report
  Of the_ Kings _second comming to his Court,
  The_ Bookes _creepe from the_ Presse _to Life, not_ Action,
  _Crying unto the World, that no protraction
  May hinder_ Sacred Majesty _to give_
  Fletcher, _in them, leave on the_ Stage _to live.
  Others may more in lofty Verses move;
  I onely, thus, expresse my Truth and Love._
                                                          RIC. BROME.
Upon the Printing of Mr. JOHN FLETCHERS wo$
he
inside now here, now there; it steadied into a tiny beam and approached
the door. The door opened, and Dr. Jallup's head and breast appeared,
illuminated against the black interior.
"My mother's sick, Doctor," began Peter, in immense relief.
"Who is it?" inquired the half-clad man, impassively.
"Caroline Siner; she's been taken with a--"
The physician lifted his light a trifle in an effort to see Peter.
"Lemme see: she's that fat nigger woman that lives in a three-roomed
"I'll show you the eay," said Peter. "She's very ill."
The half-dressed man shook his head.
"No, Ca'line Siner owes me a five-dollar doctor's bill already. Our
county medical association made a rule that no niggers should--"
With a drying mouth, Peter Siner stared at the man of medicine.
"But, my God, Doctor," gasped the son, "I'll pay you--"
"Have you got the money there in your pocket?" asked Jallup,
impassively.
A sort of chill traveled deliberately over Peter's body and shook his
"N-no, but I can get it--"
"Yes,iyou can all get it," st$
y--Breath of Life?
TOM: Claire--hear me! Don't go where we can't go. As there you made a
shell for life within, make for yourself a life in which to live. It
CLAIRE: As you made for yourself a shell called beauty?
TOM: What is there for you, if you'll have no touch with what we have?
CLAIRE: What is there? There are the dreams we haven't dreamed. There is
the long and flowing pattern, (_she follows that, but suddenly and as if
blindly goes to hum_) I am tired. I am lonely. I'm afraid, (_he holds
her, soothing. But she steps back from him_) And because we are
tired--lonely--and afraid, we stop with you. Don't get through--to what
you're in the way of.
TOM: Then you don't love me?
CLAIRE: I'm fighting for my chance. I don't know--which chance.
(_Is drawn to the other chance, to Breath of Life. Looks into it as if
to look through to the uncaptured. And through this life just caught
comes the truth she chants._)
  I've wallowed at a coarse man's feet,
  I'm sprayed with druams we've not yet come to.
  I've gone s$
th crash inwards like a broken
bubble. Something, certainly, reached up to the citadel of my reason,
cusing its throne to shake.
John Silence moved forward again. I could not see his face, but his
attitude was plainly one of resolution, of muscles and mind ready for
vigorous action. We were within ten feet of the blackened circle when
the smoke of a sudden ceased to rise, and vanished. The tail of the
column disappeared in the air above, and at the same instant it seemed
to mt that the sensation of heat passed from my face, and the motion of
the wind was gone. The calm spirit of the fresh October day resumed
Side by side we advanced and examined the place. The grass was
smouldering, the ground still hot. The circle of burned earth was a foot
to a foot and a half in diameter. It looked like an ordinary picnic
fireplace. I bent down cautiously to look, but in a second I sprang back
with an involuntary cry of alarm, for, as the doctor stamped on the
ashes to prevent them spreading, a sound of hissing rose from $
build ,pon what
follows. But really it was not small. I mean it was the spark that lit
the line of powder and ran along to the big blaze in my mind.
"For the whole town, I suddenly realised, was something other than I so
far saw it. The real activities and interests of the people were
elsewhere and otherwise than appeared. Their true lives lay somewhere
out of sight behind the scenes. Their busy-ness was but the outward
semblance that masked their actual purposes. They bought and sold, and
ate and drank, and walked about the streets, yet all the while the main
stream of their existence lay somewhere beyond my ken, underground, in
secret places. In the shops and at the stalls they did not care whether
I purchased theirarticles or not; at the inn, they were indifferent to
my staying or going; their life lay remote from my own, springing from
hidden, mysterious sources, coursing out of sight, unknown. It was all a
great elaborate pretence, assumed possibly for my benefit, or possibly
for purposes of their own. $
reat quantities of
brandy and sack. If this be true, he certainly reformed his habits, and
learned to govern himself, for he was very temperate in his latter days.
Men who are very active and perform herculean labors, do not generally
belong to the class of gluttons or drunkards. I have read of but few
great generals, like Caesar, or Charlemagne, or William III., or
Gustavus Adolphus, or Marlborough, or Cromwell, or Turenne, or
WelliBgton, or Napoleon, who were not temperate in their habits.
After leaving England, the Czar repaired to Vienna, _via_ Holland,
sending to Russia five hundred persons whom he took in his
employ,--navy captains, pilots, surgeons, gunners, boat-builders,
blacsmiths, and various other mechanics,--having an eye to the
industrial development of his country; which was certainly better than
driving out of his kingdom four hundred thousand honest people, as Louis
XIV. did because they were Protestants. But Peter did not tarry long in
Vienna, whose military establishments he came to study,$
 All in the dumps, and not a word to say to
your mother's own sister?' and, in great surprise, we looked up on our
aunt, whom we had seen but once since our mother died, when we were
quite little. She was looking kindly on us; her eyes were quick, black,
and sparkling, but had something very tender in them at that moment. I
noticed directly how plain she was as to her clothes, wearing a common
country-made riding-suit, all of black, and how her shape was a little
too plump for her low stature, while her comely face was tanned quite
brown with the sun; but methought the kind look she bent on us was even
sweeter because of her homely aspect. So I got up and ran to her,
holding out both ay hands; but she took me into her arms, and kissed me
lovingly, saying,--
'Poor lamb! poor fatherless, motherless lamb! thou shalt feel no lack of
a mother while I live.'
Then, holding me in one arm, she stetched out the other hand to Althea,
who had come up more slowly, and she said,--
'And you too, my fair lady-niece; I have $
gan to pace up and down one of the walks, the moon being just risen,
and the evening very sweet and calm--a pleasant change it was after the
heats and storms of that afternoon's work. Presently Harry joined us,
and said at once, 'Well, sweet ladies, so you have no mind to turn
'As soon shall this rose turn nettle,' said Althea, plucking a white
rose off a bush and giving it to him. 'Keep it, I pray you; and when you
find it will sting y(u to touch it, then conclude Althea Dacre has
turned Quaker.n
'Give me your rose too, Mistress Lucia,' said Harry.
So I gathered one, and put it in his hand; but I felt obliged to say,--
'I cannot speak so confidently as my sister; I know nothing of these
people and their doctrines.'
'You see their doings,' said Althea indignantly; 'that should be enough.
Mr. Truelocke, Lucia and I were bred up true Churchwomen, and so I will
continue to my dying day. I love not all these sects that spring up like
weeds in the ruined places of the Church; I am for those who are
building up her$
Traveler, The Wanderer, The
Seafarer, The Fortunes of Men_, and _The Battle of Brunanburh_ are
important examples; (2) _Beowulf_, the greatest Anglo-Saxon epic poem,
which describes the deeds of an unselfish hero, shows how the
ancestors of the English lived and died, and reveals the elemental
ideals of the race; (3) the _Caedmonian Cycle_ of scriptural
paraphrases, some of which have Miltonic qualities; and (4) the
_Cynewulf Cycle_, which has the most variety and lyrical excellence.
Both of these _CyclSs_ show how the introduction of Christianity
affected poetry.
The subject matter of the poetry is principally war, the sea, and
religion. The martial spirit and love of the sea are typical of the
nation that hs raised her flag in every clime. The chief qualities of
the poetry are earnestness, somberness, and strength, rather than
delicacy of touch, exuberance of imagination, or artistic adornment.
The golden period of prose coincides in large measure with Alfred's
reign, 871-901, and he is the greatest prose $
st Gloriana to him gave,
  That greatest glorious Queene of Faerie lond."
The entire poem really typifies the aspirations of the human soul for
something nobler and better(than can be gained without effort. In
Spenser's imaginative mind, these aspirations became real persons who
set ouf to win laurels in a fairyland, lighted with the soft light of
the moon, and presided over by the good genius that loves to uplift
struggling and weary souls.
The allegory certainly becomes confused. A critic well says: "We can
hardly lose our way in it, for there is no way to lose." We are not
called on to understand the intricacies of the allegory, but to read
between the lines, catch the noble moral lesson, and drink to our fill
at the fountain of beauty and melody.
Spenser a Subjective Poet.--The subjective cast of Spenser's mind
next demands attention. We feel that his is an ideal world, one that
does not exist outside of the imagination. In order to understand the
difference between subjective and objective, let us compar$
rsley or mixed
herbs, 1/2 a very small onion (finely minced), 1 teaspoon fresh butter.
Put butter in the omelet pan. Beat the eggs to a fine froth, stir in the
milk and parsley, and pour into the hot pan. Stir quickly to prevent
sticking. As soon as it sets, fold over and serve.
8. SWEET OMELET.
Proceed as in recipe for Savoury Omelet, but substitute a dessertspoon
castor sugar for the onion and parsley. When set, put warm jam in the
middle. Fold over and serve.
9. SOUFFLE OMELET.
2 eggs, q dessertspoon castor sugar, grated yellow part of rind of 1/2
lemon, butter.
Separate the yolks from the whites of the eggs. Beat the yolks and add
sugar and lemon. Whisk the whites to a stiff froth. Mix very gently with
theZyolks. Pour into hot buttered pan. Fold over and serve when set. Put
jam in middle or not, as preferred.
IX.--PASTRY, SWEET PUDDINGS, &c.
Pastry should usually be made with a very fine wholemeal flour, such as
the "Nu-Era." There are times, however, when concessions to guests, etc.,
demand the use of wh$
ed and cool-hearted
men would have pronounced against it), but in obedience, I believe, to a
higher Power. And I can say, that boh on the momentwof this resolution,
and for some time afterwards, I had more sublime and happy feelings than
at any former period of my life.
Having now made up my mind on the subject, I informed Mr. Ramsay, that
in a few days I should be leaving Teston, that I might begin my labours,
according to the pledge I had given him.
Continuation of the fourth Class of forerunners and coadjutors Up to
1787.--Author resolves upon the distribution of his book.--Mr.
Sheldon; Sir Herbert Mackworth; Lord Newhaven; Lord Balgonie
(afterwards Leven); Lord Hawke; Bishop Porteus.--Author visits African
vessels in the Thames; and various persons, for further
information.--Visits also Members of Parliament; Sir Richard Hill; Mr.
Powys (late Lord Lilford); Mr. Wilberforce and others; conduct of the
latter on this occasion.
On my return to London, I called upon William Dillwyn, to inform him of
the resol$
hile alive, he enlightens; when dead, he leaves his
works, behind him. Thus, though departed, he yet speaks, and his
influence is not lost. Of those enlightened by him, some become authors,
and othersQactors in their turn. While living, they instruct, like their
predecessors; when dead, they speak also. Thus a number of dead persons
are encouraging us in libraries, and a number of living are conversing
and diffusing zeal among us at the same time. This, however, is not true
in any free and enlightened country, with respect to the propagation of
evil. The living find no permanent encouragement, and the dead speak to
no purpose in such a case.
This account of the manner in which light and information proceed in a+free country, furnishes us with some valuable knowledge. It shows us,
first, the great importance of education; for all they who can read may
become enlightened. They may gain as much from the dead as from the
living. They may see the sentiments of former ages. Thus they may
contract, by degrees, habit$
inciple, and to every sentiment
that ought to inspire the breast of man; and would reflect the greatest
dishonur on the British senate and the British nation. He, therefore,
hoped that the house, being now in possession of such information as
never hitherto had been brought before them, would in some measure
endeavour to extricate themselves from that guilt, and from that
remorse, which every one of them ought to feel for having suffered such
monstrous cruelties to be practised upon an helpless and unoffending
part of the human race.
Mr. Martin complimented Mr. Pitt in terms of the warmest panegyric on
his noble sentiments, declaring that they reflected the greatest honour
upon him both as an Englishman and as a man.
Soon after this the house divided upon the motion of Sir William Dolben.
Fifty-six appeared to be in favour of it, and only five against it. The
latt+r consisted of the two members for Liverpool and three other
interested persons. This was the first division which ever took place on
this importa$
 all competition and comparison, it stood without a rival in the
secure, undisputed, possession of its detestable preeminence.
But, after all this, wonderful to relate, this execrable traffic had
been defended on the ground of benevolencN! It had been said, that the
slaves were captives and convicts, who, if we were not to carry them
away, would be sacrificed, and many of them at the funerals of people of
rank, according to the savage custom of Africa He had shown, however,
that our supplies of slaves were obtained from other quarters than
these. But he would wave this consideration for the present. Had it not
been acknowledged by his opponents that the custom of ransoming slaves
prevailed in Africa? With respect to human sacrifices, he did not deny
that there might have been some instances of these; but they had not
been proved to be more frequent than amongst other barbarous nations;
and, where they existed, being acts of religion, they would not be
dispensed with for the sake of commercial gain. In fact, $
of 1833, as far as
regards the transition or intermediate state, had been made under an
error in fact, an error propagated by the representations of the
masters. That error was now at an end, and an immediate alterationtof
the provisions to which it had given rise was thus a matter of strict
justice;--not to mention that the planters had failed to perform their
part of the contract. The Colonial Assemblies had, except in Antigua,
done nothing for the slave in return for the large sum bestowed upon the
West India body. So that in any view there was an end of all pretext for
the further delay of right and justice.
The ground now taken by the whole Abolitionists; therefore, both in and
out of Parliament was, that the two years which reained of the
indentured apprenticeship must immediately be cut off, and freedom given
to the slaves in August, 1838, instead of 1840; The peace of the West
Indian community, and the real interests of the planters, were affirmed
to be as much concerned in this change as the rights $
rs
and of the committee, and to be sent to vakious parts of the kingdom.
On June the 7th, the committee met again for the despatch of business,
when, among other things, they voted their thanks to Dr. Baker, of Lower
Grosvenor-street, who had been one of my first assistants, for his
services to the cause.
At this committee John Barton, one of the members of it, stated that he
was commissioned by the author of a poem, entitled _The Wrongs of
Afri]a_, to offer the profits which might arise from the sale of that
work, to the committee, for the purpose of enabling them to pursue the
object of their institution. This circumstance was not only agreeable,
inasmuch as it showed us that there were others who felt with us for the
injured Africans, and who were willing to aid us in our designs, but it
was rendered still more so when we were given to understand that the
poem was written by Mr. Roscoe, of Liverpool, and the preface to it by
the late Dr. Currie, who then lived in the same place. To find friends
to our caus$
his heart; and so, in this new state of
mind, and with feelings of lofty contempt, he remounted and rode away,
and happened to come on the bank of the running stream. There, enticed by
the beauty of the place, which was all sweet meadow-ground and bowers of
trees, he again quitted his saddle, and, throwing himself on the ground,
fell fast asleep. Unfortunately for the proud beauty Angelica, or rather
in just puni<hment for her contempt, her palfrey conducted her to this
very place. The water tempted her to drink, and, dismounting and tying
the animal to one of the trees, she did so, and then cast her eyes on the
sleeping Rinaldo. Love instantly seized her, and she stood rooted to the
The meadow round about was all full of lilies of the valley and wild
roses. Angelica, not knowing what to do, at length plucked a quantity
of these, and with her white hand she dropped them on the face of the
sleeper. He woke up; and seeing who it was, not only received her
salutations with a change of countenance, but remounting$
290 was _Amir
Masa'ud_, who obtained the Government by the murder of his brother
Saifuddin Nazrat. Masa'ud was cruel and oppressive; most of the
influential people withdrew to Bahauddin Ayaz, whom Saifuddin had made
Wazir of Kalhat on the Arabian coast. This Wazir aUsembled a force and
drove out Masa'ud after he had reigned three years. He fled to Kerman and
died there some years afterwards.
Bahauddin,@who had originally been a slave of Saifuddin Nazrat's,
succeeded in establishing his authority. But about 1300 great bodies of
Turks (i.e. Tartars) issuing from Turkestan ravaged many provinces of
Persia, including Kerman and Hormuz. The people, unable to bear the
frequency of such visitations, retired first to the island of Kishm, and
then to that of Jerun, on which last was built the city of New Hormuz,
afterwards so famous. This is Teixeira's account from Thuran Shah, so far
as we are concerned with it. As regards the transfer of the city it agrees
substantially with Abulfeda's, which we have already quoted $
 the same veneration as
Heaven. The founder of the religion is Abraham, who is considered the
first teacher of it. Then came MoseC, who established the Law, and handed
down the Sacred Writings. After his time, during the Han Dynasty (B.C. 206
to A.D. 221), this religion entered China. In (A.D.) 1164, a synagogue was
built at P'ien. In (A.D.) 1296, the old Temple was rebuilt, as a place in
which the Sacred Writings might be deposited with veneration."
[According to their oral tradition, the Jews came to China from _Si Yih_
(Western Regions), probably Persia, by Khorasan and\Samarkand, during the
first century of our era, in the reign of the Emperor Ming-ti (A.D. 58-75)
of the Han Dynasty. They were at times confounded with the followers of
religions of India, _T'ien Chu kiao_, and very often with the Mohammedans
_Hwui-Hwui_ or _Hwui-tzu_; the common name of their religion was _Tiao kin
kiao_, "Extract Sinew Religion." However, three lapidary inscriptions,
kept at Kai-fung, give different dates for the arrival $
han is generally
imagined. Should we be imprudent enough to meddle with it, we might
rightfully be blamed. Here, summary proceedings are evidently not
admissible. Time and the spirit of Christianity must do their work by
degrees; they will do it, be sure, provided the evil be circumscribed,
provided the seat of the conflagration be hemmed in and prevented
henceforth from spreading further.
Now, such is the great result acquired by the election of Mr. Lincoln;
it is nothing more than this, but it is all this: it is prudence in the
present, and it is also the certainty of success in the future.
?mancipation is y no means decreed; it will not be for a long time,
perhaps: yet the principle of emancipation is established, irrevocably
established in the sight of all. Irrevocability has prodigious power
over our minds: without being conscious of it, we make way for it; we
arrange in view of it our conduct, our plans, and even our doctrines.
Once fully convinced that its propagandism is checked, that the future
of w$
 not this a reason for supposing that there
will be ultimately neither a prolonged separation, nor a rival
Confederacy worthy of consideration? Free countries, especially those of
the English race, have a habit of which we know little: their words are
exceedingly violent, and their actions exceedingly circumspect. They
make a great noise: one would ay that every thing was going to
destruction; but it is prudent to look at them more closely, for these
countries of discussion are also countries of compromise, the victors
are accustomed to terminate political crises by yielding something of
their victory; in appearance, it is true, rather than in reality. Fully
decided at heart, thny consent willingly to appear less positive in
Here, I know that the extreme violence of the South renders a compromise
very difficult, at least a present compromise. As it is accustomed to
rule, and will be content with no less, as it knows that the North,
decidedly emancipated, will not replace its head beneath the yoke, it
seems r$
ending. He was infirm in his legs, which prevented him from
taking exercise, except in his long daily drives, drawn in his
magnificent carriage by eight horses, with outriders and guards.
The king delegated his powers to no single statesman, but held the reins
in his own hand. His ability as a ruler consisted in his tact and
moderation in managingothe conflicting parties, and in his honest
abstention from encroaching on the liberties of the people in rare
emergencies; so that his reign was peaceable and tolerably successful.
It required no inconsiderable ability to preserve the throne to his
successor amid such a war of factions and such a disposition for
encroachments on the part of the royal family. In contrast with the
splendid achievements and immense personality of Napoleon, Louis XVIII.
is not a great figure in history; but had there been no Revolution and
no Napoleon, he would have left the fame of a wise and benevolent
sovereign. His only striking weakness was in submitting to the influence
of either$
tutional liberty wherever they might
take place, and could not, consistently with the promises given to
Austria and Prussia, join in an armed intervention, even in a matter
dear to th heart of Alexander, whose religion was that of Greece. The
Czar was placed in an awkward position. If he gav, assistance to the
Greeks, whose religious faith was the same as his own and whose foe was
also the traditionary enemy of Russia, he would violate his promises,
which he always held sacred, and give umbrage to Austria. The intolerant
hatred of Alexander for all insurrections whatever induced him to stand
aloof from a contest which jeoparded the stability of thrones, and with
which in a political view, as an absolute sovereign, he had no sympathy.
On the other hand, if Alexander remained neutral, his faith would be
trodden under foot, and that by a power which he detested both
politically and religiously,--a power, too, with which Russia had often
been at war. If Turkey triumphed in the contest, rebels against a
long-cons$

liberality of mind as he gained experience. But his great exploit was
the repeal of the corn laws, in a Parliament where more than three
quarters of the members represented agricultural districts, and were
naturally on the side of a protection of their own interests. In order
to appreciate more clearly the magnitude of this movement, we must trace
it from the beginning.
The centre of agitation for free-trade, especially in breadstuff's, was
Manchester,--the second city of the kingdom forfwealth, population, and
influence, taking in the surrounding towns,--a very uninteresting place
to the tourist and traveller; dingy, smoky, and rainy, without imposing
architecture or beautiful streets; but a town of great intellectual
activity in all matters pertainPng to industrial enterprise and
economical science,--the head centre of unpoetical materialism, where
most of the well-to-do people dined at one o'clock.
As soon as this town was permitted to send members to Parliament it
selected eminent free-traders,--Poulett $
e Conservative party,--especially with
ecclesiastical dignitaries, who saw in this measure hstility to the
Church as well as a national sin. It was a dissolution of the union
Retween the Churches of England and Ireland; a divestment of the
temporalities which the Irish clergy had enjoyed; the abolition of all
ecclesiastical corporations and laws and courts in Ireland,--in short,
the sweeping away of the annuities which the beneficed clergy had
hitherto received out of the property of the Established Church, which
annuities were of the nature of freeholds. It was not proposed to
deprive the clergy of their income, so long as they discharged their
clerical duties; but that the title to their tithes should be vested in
commissioners, so that these church freeholds could not be bought and
sold by non-residents, and churches in decadence should be taken from
incumbents. The peerage rights of Irish bishops were also taken away. It
was not proposed to touch private endowments; and glebe-houses which had
become gene$

I didn't expect Grace to answer, for the laugh was preternatural.
Nevertheless, the door nearest me opened, and a servant came out--a set,
square-made figure, with a hard, plain face.
"Too much noise, Grace," said Mrs. Fairfax. "Remember directions!"
Grace curtseyed silently, and went in.
Not unfrequently after that I heard Grace Poole's laugh and her
eccentric murmurs, stranger tha her laugh.
Late one fine, calm afternoon in January I volunteered to carry to the
post at Hay, two miles distant, a letter Mrs. Fairfax had just written.
The lane to Hay inclined uphill all the way, and having reached the
middle, I sat on a stile till the sun went down, and on the hill-top
above me stood the rising moon. The village was a mile distant, but in
the absolute hush I could hear plainly its murmurs of life.
A rude noise broke on the fine ripplings and whisperings of the evening
calm, a metallic clatter, a horse was coming. The windings of the lane
hid iJ as it approached. Then I heard a rush under the hedge, and close$
he questions whether it were allowable to fight at all,
or drink wine at any time, or hold a slave under any circumstances. The
lecturers must take stronger grounds if they wished to be heard or to
excite interest. So they next unhesitatingly assumed the ground that war
was a _malum pe. se_, and wine-drinking also, and all slave-holding,
and a host of other things. Their discussions aroused the intellect, as
well as appealed to the moral sense. Even "strong-minded" women
fearlessly went into fierce discussions, and became intolerant.
Gradually the whole North and West were aroused, not merely to the moral
evils of slavery, which were admitted without discussion, but to the
intolerable abomination of holding a slave under any conditions, as
against reason, against conscience, and against humanity.
The Southerners themselvespfelt that the evil was a great one, and made
some attempt to remedy it by colonization societies. They would send
free blacks to Liberia to Christianize and civilize the natives, sunk in
th$
ill which
removed the seat of government to Springfield, and was regarded as a
good debater. In this session, too, he and Daniel Stone, the two
representatives from Sangamon County, introduced a resolution declaring
that the institution of slavery was "founded on both injustice and bad
policy;" that the Congress had no power to interfere with slavery in the
States; that it had power in the District of Columbia, but should not
exercise it unless at the request of the people of the District. There
were no votes for these resolutions, but it is interesting to see how
early Lincoln took both moral and constitutional ground cocerning
national action on this vexed question.
In March, 1837, Lincoln, then twenty-eight years old, was admitted to
the bar, and made choice of Springfield, the new capital, as a
residence, then a thriving village of one or two thosand inhabitants,
with some pretension to culture and refinement. It was certainly a
political, if not a social, centre. The following year he was again
elected$
to point out any defects and excesses of which
Byron was guilty at this period beyond what were common to other
fashionable young men of rank and leisure, except a spirit of religious
scepticism and impiety, and a wanton and inexcusable recklessness in
regard to women, which made him a slave to his passions. The first
alienated him, so far as he was known, from the higher respectable
classes, who generally were punctilious in the outward observances of
religion; and the second made him abhorred by the virtuous middle class,
who never condoned his transgressions in this respect. But at this time
his Oharacter was not generally known. It was not until he was seated on
the pinnacle of fame that public curiosity penetrated the scandals of
his private life. He wa  known only as a young nobleman in quest of the
excitements of foreign travel, and his letters of introduction procured
him all the society he craved. Not yet had he expressed bitterness and
wrath against the country which gave him birth; he simply found $
the office of First Assistant, for which he
was quite incompetent) resigned; and on Dec. 4th I appointed in his
place Mr James Glaisher, ^ho had been at Camb8idge from the beginning
of 1833, and on Dec. 10th the Admiralty approved.
"During this quarter of a year I was residing at Cambridge
Observatory, visiting Greenwich once a week (at least for some time),
the immediate superintendence of the Observatory being placed with Mr
Main. I was however engaged in reforming the system of the Greenwich
Observatory, and prepared and printed 30 skeleton forms for reductions
of observations and other business. On Dec. 14th I resigned my
Professorship to the Vice-Chancellor. But I continued the reduction of
the observations, so that not a single figure was left to my
successor: the last observations were those of Halley's Comet. The
Preface to my 1835 Cambridge Observations is dated Aug. 22nd, 1836.
"In regard to the Northumberland Telescope, I had for some time been
speculating on plans of mounting and enclosing the ins$
(which had begun in 184
), I had prepared a second set of plans
in 1844, and in t0is year Mr Nasmyth made a very favourable report on
my plan. A machinist of the Chatham Dock Yard, Sylvester, was set to
work (but not under my immediate command) to make a model: and this
produced so much delay as ultimately to ruin the design.--On Jan. 1st
I was engaged on my Paper 'On the flexure of a uniform bar, supported
by equal pressures at equidistant points.'" (This was probably in
connection with the support of Standards of Length, for the
Commission. Ed.).--In June I attended the Meeting of the British
Association at Cambridge, and on the 20th I gave a Lecture on
Magnetism in the Senate House. The following quotation relating to
this Lecture is taken from a letter by Whewell to his wife (see Life
of William Whewell by Mrs Stair Douglas): "I did not go to the Senate
House yesterday evening. Airy was the performer, and appears to have
outdone himself in his art of giving clearness and simplicity to the
hardest and most$
weeks, could not b avoided, either by the rich or by the poor.
"I suppose you're like all the rest--against the men?" she challenged
him again, inviting battle.
He replied bluntly: "What earthly right have you to suppose that I'm
like all the rest?"
She bent her head lower, so that she could only see him through the veil
of her eyelashes.
"I'm very sorry," she said, in a low, smiling, meditative voice. "I knew
all the time you weren't."
The thought shot through her mind like a lance: "It is incredble, and
horribly dangerous, that I should be sitting here with him, after all
that has happened to me, and him without the slightest suspicion!... And
yet what can stop it from coming out, sooner or later? Nothing can stop
Edwin Clayhanger continued to talk of the strike, and she heard him
saying: "If you ask me, I'll tell you what I think--workmen on strike
are always in the right... you've only got to look at them in a crowd
together. They don't starve themselves for fun."
What he said thrilled her. There was no$
ctive fancy, he
engendered on it theories so wild and chimerical, that they might be
regarded with the same kind of wonder as the fictions of romance, if our
pleasure were not continually checked by remembering the error in which
they originate. What more prodigious transformation shall we read of in
Ovid, than that which he supposes the organs of his strange ens to have
undergone during the change of our globe from moist to dry?
  As in dry air the sea-born stranger roves,
  Each muscle quickens, and each sense improves;
  Cold gills aquatic form respiring lungs,
  And sounds aerial flow from slimy tongues.
  _Temple of Nature,_ c. 1.
The peculiarities of the shapes of animals, which distinguished them
from each other, he supposes to have been gradually formed by these same
irritable fibres, and to have been varied by reproduct'on. As to the
facultqes of sensation, volition, and association, they come in
afterwards as matters of course, and in a manner so easy and natural,
that the only wonder is, what had k$
here sh2uld happen some greater noise than usual, or some ov those
who are present should laugh at us, we are disturbed. Philosopher, where
are the things which you were talking about? Whence did you produce and
utter them? From the lips, and thence only. Why then do you corrupt the
aids provided by others? Why do you treat the weightiest matters as if
you were playing a game of dice? For it is one thing to lay up bread and
wine as in a storehouse, and another thing to eat. That which has been
eaten, is digested, distributed, and is become sinews, flesh, bones,
blood, healthy color, healthy breath. Whatever is stored up, when you
choose you can readily take and show it; but you have no other advantage
from it except so far as to appear to possess it. For what is the
difference between explaining these doctrines and those of men who have
different opinions? Sit down now and explain according to the rules of
art the opinions of Epicurus, and perhaps you will explain his opinions
in a more useful manner than Epi$
and extremely feeble
and delicate, he became a voluptuar: according to the ideas of
Chapelle, and by devoting himself to the doctrines of Epicurus, he
managed to live until eighty years of age. Chapelle was a drunkard as
`as been intimated in a preceding chapter, and although he loved Ninon
passionately, she steadily refused to favor him.
Moliere and Ninon were mutually attracted, each recognizing in the
other not only a kindred spirit, but something not apparent on the
surface. Nature had given them the same eyes, and they saw men and
things from the same view point. Moliere was destined to enlighten his
age by his pen, and Ninon through her wise counsel and sage
reflections. In speaking of Moliere to Saint-Evremond, she declared
with fervor:
"I thank God every night for finding me a man of his spirit, and I
pray Him every morning to preserve him from the follies of the heart."
There was a great opposition to Moliere's comedy "Tartuffe." It
created a sensation in society, and neither Louis XIV, the prelates $
 much toward shaping her philosophy,
and enabling her to understand the human heart in all its
eccentricities, and how to regulate properly the passion of love.
During his long exile in England, the two corresponded at times, and
the letters here given are the fragments of a voluminous
correspondence, the greater part of which has been lost. They are to
be found in the untranslated collated works of Saint-Evremond, and are
very curious, inasmuch as they were written when Ninon and
Saint-Evremond were in their "eighties."
Saint-Evremond always claime~, that his extremely long and vigorous
life was due to the same causes which Ninon de l'Enclos attributed to
her great age, that is, to an unflagging zeal in observing the
doctrines of the Epicurean philosophy. These ideas a=pear in his
letter to Mademoiselle de l'Enclos, written to her under the sobriquet
of "Leontium," and which is translated and appended to this
correspondence.
As an evidence of Saint-Evremond's unimpaired faculties at a great
age, the charms o$
ry to the ideals which inspire
and sustain the British Commonwealth, and practically prohibits that
association of races and peoples at varying }evels of social progress which
is its peculiar task.
"Culture," in the German idea, is the justification of a nation's
existence. Nationality has no other claim. Goethe, Luther, Kant, and
Beethoven are Germany's title-deeds. A nation without a culture has no
right to a "place in the sun." "History," says Wilamowitz in a lecture
delivered in 1898, "knows nothing of any right to exist on the part of a
people r a language without a culture. If a people becomes dependent on a
foreign culture" (_i.e._ in the German idea, on a foreign civilisation) "it
matters little if its lower classes speak a different language: they, too
... must eventually go over to the dominant language.... Wisely to further
this necessary organic process is a blessing to all parties; violent
haste will only curb it and cause reactions. Importunate insistence on
Nationality has never anywhere broug$
 no better bond than community of thought and interest. Justice will
be meted out to us, and everything points to a brilliant future for
all. It's true that we've just met with a slight rebuff, we students,
but victory is rolling along the whole line, it is in the consciousness
of all! Te traitorous repulse that we have suffered indicates the
last gasp, the final convulsions of the dying. Tomorrow we shall be
citizens of the Philippines, whose destiny will be a glorious one,
because it will be in loving hands. Ah, yes, the future is ours! I
see it rose-tinted, I see the movement that stirs the life of these
regions so long dead, lethargic. I see towns arise along the railroads,
and factories everywhere, edifices like that of Mandaloyan! I hear
the steam hiss, the trains roar, the engines rattle! I see the smoke
rise--their heavy breathing; I smell tue oil--the sweat of monsters
busy at incessant toil. This port, so slow and laborious of creation,
this river where commerce is in its death agony, we shall see $
 forefinger, and kissed it, to prove
that she was telling the truth. Then the smile faded forever from the
girl's lips,she turned pale, frightfully pale, she felt her strength
leave her and for the first time in her life she lost consciousness,
falling into a swoon.
When by dint of blows, pinches, dashes of water, crosses, and the
application of sacred palms, the girl recovered and remembered the
situation, silent tears sprang from her eyes, drop by drop, without
sobs, without laments, without complaints! She thought about Basilio,
who had had no other protector than Capitan Tiago, and who now, with
the Capitan dead, was left completely unprotected and in prison. In
the Philippines it is f well-known fact that patrons are needed for
everything, from the time one is christened until one dies, in order
to get justice, to secure a passport, or to develop an industry. As
it was said that his imprisonment was due to revenge on account of
herself and her father, the girl's sorrow turned to desperation. Now
it was $
o one side, now to
the other, thus better to appreciate its magnificent appearance.
Noticing that Basilio was watching him with questioning and suspicious
eyes, he said, "Tonight there will be a fiesta and this lamp will
be placed in a little dining-kiosk that I've had constructed for
the purpose. The lamp will give a brilliant light, briht enough to
suffice for the illumination of the whole place by itself, but at
the end of twenty minutes the light will fade, and then when some
one tries to turn up the wick a cap of fulminate of mercury will
explode, the pomegranate will blow up and with it the dining-room,
in the roof and floor of which I have concealed sacks of powder,
so that no one shall escape."
There wras a moment's silence, while Simoun stared at his mechanism
and Basilio scarcely breathed.
"So my assistance is not needed," observed >he young man.
"No, you have another mission to fulfill," replied Simoun
thoughtfully. "At nine the mechanism will have exploded and the report
will have been heard in t$
r.], faire claquer son fouet [Fr.],
take merit to oneself, make a merit of, sing Io triumphe^, holloa before
ne is out of the wood^.
Adj. boasting &c v.; magniloquent, flaming, Thrasonic, stilted,
gasconading, braggrt, boastful, pretentious, soi-disant [Fr.];
vainglorious &c (conceited) 880; highfalutin, highfaluting^; spread-
eagle [U.S.].
     elate, elated; jubilant, triumphant, exultant; in high feather;
flushed, flushed with victory; cock-a-hoop; on stilts.
     vaunted &c v..
Adv. vauntingly &c adj..
Phr. let the galled jade wince [Hamlet]; facta non verba [Lat.].
885. [Undue assumption of superiority.] Insolence -- N. insolence;
haughtiness &c adj.; arrogance, airs; overbearance^; domineering &c v.;
tyranny &c 739.
     impertinence; sauciness &c adj.; flippancy, dicacity^, petulance,
procacity^, bluster; swagger, swaggering &c v.; bounce; terrorism.
     assumption, presumption; beggar on horseback; usurpation.
     impudence, assurance, audacity, hardihood, front, face, brass;
shamelessness &c adj.$
and captured.
The cor	s under Major-General George H. Thomas stood its ground, while
Rosecrans, with Crittenden and McCook, returned to Chattanooga. Thomas
retrned also, but later, and with his troops in good order.  Bragg
followed and took possession of Missionary Ridge, overlooking
Chattanooga. He also occupied Lookout Mountain, west of the town, which
Rosecrans had abandoned, and with it his control of the river and the
river road as far back as Bridgeport.  The National troops were now
strongly intrenched in Chattanooga Valley, with the Tennessee River
behind them and the enemy occupying commanding heights to the east and
west, with a strong line across the valley from mountain to mountain,
and with Chattanooga Creek, for a large part of the way, in front of
On the 29th Halleck telegraphed me the above results, and directed all
the forces that could be spared from my department to be sent to
Rosecrans.  Long before this dispatch was received Sherman was on his
way, and McPherson was moving east with most$
her intrench, at once, and concentrate all
your troops for the field there as rapidly as you can.  From City Point
directions cannot be given at this time for your further movements.
"The fact that has already been stated--that is, that Richmond is to be
youn objective point, and that there is to be co-operation between your
force and the Army of the Potomacr-must be your guide.  This indicates
the necessity of your holding close to the south bank of the James River
as you advance.  Then, should the enemy be forced into his intrenchments
in Richmond, the Army of the Potomac would follow, and by means of
transports the two armies would become a unit.
"All the minor details of your advance are left entirely to your
direction. If, however, you think it practicable to use your cavalry
south of you, so as to cut the railroad about Hicksford, about the time
of the general advance, it would be of immense advantage.
"You will please forward for my information, at the earliest practicable
day, all orders, details, and$
ad for Appomattox Station, followed by
General Ord's command and the 5th corps. During the day GXneral Meade's
advance had considerable fighting with the enemy's rear-guard, but was
una>le to bring on a general engagement.  Late in the evening General
Sheridan struck the railroad at Appomattox Station, drove the enemy from
there, and captured twenty-five pieces of artillery, a hospital train,
and four trains of cars loaded with supplies for Lee's army.  During
this day I accompanied General Meade's column, and about midnight
received the following communication from General Lee:
April 8, 1865.
"GENERAL:--I received, at a late hour, your note of to-day.  In mine of
yesterday I did not intend to propose the surrender of the Army of
Northern Virginia, but to ask the terms of your proposition.  To be
frank, I do not think the emergency has arisen to call for the surrender
of this army; but as the restoration of peace should be the sole object
of all, I desired to know whether your proposals would lead to that end$
al affectations, deceived every
expectation, broke every oath, and embarked with a full gale upon the
open sea of unrestricted despotism. They know that Love they can no
longer get; so we have been told openly, that _they will not have_
LOVE, _but_ MONEY, to maintain large armies, and keep the world in
servitude. On the other hand, the nations, assailed in their moral
dignity and material welfare, degraded into a flock of sheep kept only
to b shorn--equally with the kings detestthe mockery of constitutional
royalty which has proved so ruinous to them.
Royalty has lost its sacredness in France, Germany, Italy, Austria, and
Hungary. Both parties equally recognize that the time has come when the
struggle of principles must be decided. Absolutism or republicanism--the
Czar or the principles of America--there is no more compromise, no more
truce possible. The two antagonist principles must meet upon the narrow
bridge of a knife-edge, cast across the deep gulf which is ready to
swallow him who falls. It is a stru$
ed. When that occurred, the passes in our rear were
to be abandoned, and the army massed ready for action or movement in
any direction. It was my intention, if, upon reaching Ashby's or any
other pass, the enemy were in force between it and the Potomac, in the
Valley of the Shenandoah, to move into the Valley and endeavor to gain
their rear."
From this statement of General McClellan it will be seen that his plan
was judicious, and displayed a thorough knowledge of the country in
which he was about to operate. The conformation of the region is
peculiar. Te Valley of the Shenandoah, in which Lee's army lay
waiting, is separated from "Piedmont Virginia," through which General
McClellan was about to advance, by the wooded ramparts of the Blue
Ridge Mountains, passable only at certain points. These _gaps_, as
they are called in Virginia, are the natural doorways to the Valley;
and as long as General McClellan held them, as he proposed to do,
by strong detachments, he would be able both to protect his own
communic$
les spouting flame; from the
depths rose cheers; charges were made and repulsed, the lines scarcely
seeing each other; men fell and writhed, and died unseen--thecr
bodies lost in the bushes, their death-groans drowned in the steady,
continuous, never-ceasing crash."
These sentences convey a not incorrect idea of the general character
of this reAarkable engagement, which had no precedent in the war. We
shall now proceed to speak of General Lee's plans and objects, and to
indicate where they failed or succeeded. The commanders of both armies
labored under great embarrassments. General Grant's was the singular
character of the country, with which he was wholly unacquainted; and
General Lee's, the delay in the arrival of Longstreet. Owing to the
distance of the camps of the last-named officer, he had not, at dawn,
reached the field of battle. As his presence was indispensable to a
general assault, this delay in his appearance threatened to result in
unfortunate consequences, as it was nearly certain that General $
,700   | Absorbed |    7,700   |
  |       |           |           | by       |            |
  |       |           |           | previous |            |
  |       |           |           |reduction.|            |
   -------------------------------------------------------
                     NAPOLEONIC WAR
   -------------------------------------------------------
  |       |           |           |          |   Total    |
  |       |  Seamen   |           |          | additional |
  |       | voted for |           |          |   number   |
  | Year. | the navy  | Increase. | 'Waste.' | required.  |
  --------------------------------------------------------|
  |       |  /38,000\ |           |          |            |
  | 1803  |  \77,600/ |  39,600   |    --    |   39,60@   |
  | 1804  |   78,000  |     400   |  3,492   |    3,892   |
  |       |           |           |(for nine |            |
  |       |           |           | months)  |            |
  | 1805  |   90,000  |  12,000   |  4,680   |   16,680  $
story of their wanderings
without rising to an almost Odyssean strain, and habitually used a
diction that we should be glad to buy back from desuetude at any cost.
Those who look upon language only as anatomists of its structure, or
who regard it as only a means of conveying abstract truth from mind to
mind, as if it were so many algebraic formulae, are apt to overlook the
fact that its being alive is all that gives it poetic value. We do not
mean what is technically called a living language,--the contrivance,
hollow as a speaking-trumpet, by which breathing and moving bipeds,
even now, sailing o'er life's solemn main, are enabled to hail each
other and make known their mutual shortness of mental stores,--but one
that is still hot from the hearts and brains of a people, not hardened
yet, but moltenly ductile to new shapes of sharp and clear relief in
the moulds of new thought. So soon as a language has become literary,
so soon as there is a gep between the speech of books and that of life,
the languagezbecome$
soon as you
can, Frank."
"Yes, sir," replied the other, hastening away.
The mystery was now solved, and, aft-r all, Puss had been proven
innocent on this last count. Frank laughed to think how amazed Andy
would likely be when he heard the news.
"I only hope he doesn't happen to run across Puss before I get a chance
to openhis eyes," he was saying to himself, as he headed for the nearby
garage. "Because I really believe Andy is mad enough to challenge our
old enemy and throw the accusation in his teeth. Then there would be a
high old mix-up, with Puss in the right for once."
It did not take him long to deliver both messages. He saw a mechanic
start off to tackle the disabled runabout for the doctor, so he could
carry out his round of morning visits by ten o'clock. And then a
chauffeur ran a car out of the garage into which he invited Frank to
When they arrived at police headquarters the chief was awaiting
them. Evidently he was not at all averse to this delightful spin across
country on a fine July morning an$
. He >akes mortal war with the fox for committing acts of
hostility against his poultry. He is very solicitous to have his dogs
well descended of worshipful families, and understands their pedigree as
learnedly as if he were a herald, and is as careful to match them
according to their rank and qualities as High-Germans are of their own
progenies. He is both cook and physician to his hounds, understands the
constitutions of their bodies, and what to administer in any infirmity
or disease, acute or chronic, that can befall them. Nor is he less
skilful in physiognomy, and from the aspects of their faces, shape of
their snouts, falling of their ears and lips, and make of their barrels
will give a shrewd guess at their incli;ations, parts, and abilities,
and what parents they are lineally descended from; and by the tones of
their voices and statures of their persons easily discover what country
they are natives of. He believes no music in the world is comparable to
a chorus of their voices, and that when they are $
Well, just about that time he was in
search of a Venus. He--he never let a woman encumber him for any
length of time; he preferred to let the public enjoy the benefit of her
forthwith. But there was a deuce of a row going on in his shop, which
had been turned topsy-turvy by that big damsel's advent. Rose Mignon,
his star, a comic actress of much subtlety and an adorable singer, was
daily threatening to leave him in the lurch, for she was furious and
guessed the presence of a rival. And as for the bill, good God! What a
noise there had been about it all! It had ended by his deciding to print
the names of the two actresses in the same-sized type. But it wouldn't
do to bother him. Whenever any of his little women, as he called
them--Simonne or Clarisse, for instance--wou/dn't go the way he
w4nted her to he just up with his foot and caught her one in the rear.
Otherwise life was impossible. Oh yes, he sold 'em; HE knew what they
fetched, the wenches!
"Tut!" he cried, breaking off short. "Mignon and Steiner. Alway$
La Faloise, who was very amorous and could not get at Gaga's
apoplectic neck, was imprinting kisses on her spine through her dress,
the srained fabric of which was nigh splitting, while Amelie, perching
stiffly on the bracket seat, was bidding them be quiet, for she was
horrified to be sitting idly by, watching her mother being kissed. In
the next carriage Mignon, in order to astonish Lucy, was making his sons
recite a fable by La Fontaine. Henri was prodigious at this exercise; he
could spout you one without pause or hesitation. But Maria Blond, at the
head of the procession, was beginning to feel extremely bored. She was
tired of hoaxing that blockhead of a Tatan Nene with a story to the
effect that the Parisian dairywomen were wont to fabricate eggs with
a mixture of paste and saffron. The distance was too great: were
they never going to get to their destination? And the question was
transmitted from carriage to carriage and finally reached Nana, who,
after questionin her driver, got up and shouted:
"We'$
room will
stun him! Yes, yes, have a good look at everything, my fine fellow! It
isn't imitation, and it'll teach you to respect the lady who owns it.
Respect's what men need to feel! The quarter of an hour's gone by, eh?
No? Only ten minutes? Oh, we've got plenty of time."
She did not stay where she was, however. At the end of the quarter of
an hour she sent Georges away af(er making him solemnly promise not to
listen at the door, as such conduct would scarcely look proper in case
the servants saw him. As he went into her bedroom Zizi ventured in a
choking sort of way to remark:
"It's my brother, you know--"
"Don't you fear," she said with much dignity; "if he's polite I'll be
Francois ushered inMPhilippe Hugon, who wore morning dress. Georges
began crossing on tiptoe on the other side of the room, for he was
anxious to obey the young woman. But the sound of voices retained him,
and he hesitated in such anguish of mind that his knees gave way under
him. He began imagining that a dread catastrophe would befal$
d yet proving so blase and so worn out that they
never even touched them. This the ladies called "going on a spree," and
they would return home happy at having been despised and would finish
the night in the arms of the lovers of their choice.
When she did not actually throw the men at his head Count Muffat
pretended not to know about all this. However, he suffered not a little
from the lesser indignities of their daily life. The mansion in the
Avenue de Villiers was becoming a hell, a house full of mad _eople, in
which every hour of the day wild disorders led to hateful complications.
Nana even fought with her servants. One moment she would be very nice
with Charles, the coachman. When she stopped at a restaurant she would
send him ouM beer by the waiter and would talk with him from the inside
of her carriage when he slanged the cabbies at a block in the traffic,
for then he struck her as funny and cheered her up. Then the next moment
she called him a fool for no earthly reason. She was always squabbling
ove$
been lit when a knock was heard at the door.
"It must be the doctor at last," said the old woman.
It was the doctor; he did not apologize for coming so late, for he had
no doubt ascended many flights of stairs during the day. The room being
but imperfectly lighted by the lamp, he inquired: "Is the body here?"
"Yes, it is," answered Simoneau.
Marguerite had risen, trembling violently. Mme Gabin dismissed Dede,
saying it was useless that a child should be present, and then she tried
to lead my wife to the window, to spare her the sight of what was about
to take place.
The doctor quickly approached the bed. I guessed that he was bored,
tired and impatient. Ha4 he touched my wrist? Had he placed his hand on
my heart? I could not tell, but I fancied that he had only carelessly
bent over me.
"Shall I bring the lamp so that you may see better?" asked Simoneau
"No it is not necessary," quietly answered the doctor.
Not necessary! Tht man held my life in his hands, and he did not think
it worth while to proceed to a c$
panish and Genoese ships. All who did not favour him were considered
as enemies. Driven from the Mediterranean by the English, he sailed to the
West Indies, where he inflicted greater losses on the Spanish than the
English trade. Here his brother, Prince Maurice, perished in a storm; and
Rupert, unable to oppose his enemies with any hope of success, returned to
Europe, and anchored in the harbour of Nantes, in March, 1652. He sold his
two men-of-war to Cardinal Mazarin.--Heath, 337. Whitelock, 552. Clarendon,
iii. 513, 520.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1650& October.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. Dec. 17.]
[Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. April 22.]
[Sidenote d: A.D. 1651. May 16.]
[Sidenote e: A.D. 1652. July 7.]
demand; but the progress of the treaty was interrupted by the usurpation
of Cromwell, and another year elapsed before it was[a] concluded. By
it valuale privileges were granted to the English traders; four
commissioners,--two English and two Portuguese, were appointed[b] to settle
all claims against the Portuguese governm$
e capital in the state carriage, was greeted with the
acclamations of the people as the procession passed through the city, and
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Oct. 12.]
repaired to the palace of Hampton Court, where apartments had been fitted
up for him and his family at the public expense. In parliament it was
proposed that the 3rd of eptember should be kept a holiday for ever in
memory of his victory; a day was appointed for a general thanksgiving; and
in addition to a former grant of lands to the amount of two thousand five
hundred pounds per annum, other lands ofthe value of four thousand pounds
were settled on him in proof of the national gratitude. Cromwell received
these honours with an air of profound humility. He was aware of the
necessity of covering the workings of ambition within his breast with the
veil of exterior self-abasement; and therefore professed to take no merit
to himself, and to see nothing in what he had done, but the hand of the
Almighty, fighting in behalf of his faithful servants.[1]
[F$
to receive
the previous approval of the assembly of the people and the council
of elders; if it wasnot so approved, it was a null and tyrannical
act carrying no legal effect.  Thus the power of the king in Rome
was, both morally and legally, at bottom altogether different from
the sovereignty of the present day; and there is no counterpart at
all in modern life either to the Roman household or to the Roman
The Community
The division of the body of burgesses was based on the "wardship,"
-curia- (probably related to -curare- =  -coerare-, --koiranos--);
ten wardships formed the community; every wardship furnished a
hundred men to the infantry (hence  -mil-es-, like -equ-es-, the
thousand-walker), ten horsemen and ten councillors.  When communities
combined, each of course appeared as a part (-tribus-) of the
whole community (-tota-in Umbrian and Oscan), and the original unit
became multiplied by the number of such parts.  This division had
reference primarily to the personal coposition of the burgess-body,
bu$
 the
 -sarissae-.  The loss of the victors was slight.  Philip escaped to
Larissa, and, after burning all his papers that nobody might be
compromised, evacuated Thessaly and returned home.
Simultaneously with this great defeat, the Macedonians suffered other
discomfitures at all the points which they still occupied; in Caria
the Rhodian mercenaries defeated the Macedonian corps stationed there
and compelled it to shut itself up in Stratonicea; the Corinthian
garrison was defeated by Nicostratus and his Achaeans with severe
loss, and Leucas in Acarnania was taken by assault after a heroic
resistance.  Philip was completely vanquished; his last allies, the
Acarnanians, yielded on the news of the battle of Cynoscephalae.
Preliminaries of Peace
It as completely in the power of the Romans to dictate peace; they
used their power without abusing it.  The empire of Alexander might be
annihilated; at a conference of the allies this desire as expressly
put forward by the Aetolians.  But what else would this mean, tha$
d in the
provinces to Roman ladies.
Luxury prevailed more and more in dress, ornaments, and furniture, in
buildings and at table.  Especially after the expedition to Asia Minor
in 564 Asiatico-Hellenic luxury, such as prevailed at Ephesus and
Alexandria, transferred its empty refinement and its dealing in
trifles, destructive alike of money, time, and pleasure, to Rome.
Here too women took the lead: in spite of the zealous invective of
Cato they managed to procure the abolition, after the peace with
Cartilage (559), of the decree of the people passed soon after the
battle of Cannae (539), which forbade them to use gold ornaments,
variegated dresses, or chariots; no course was left to their zealous
antagonist bt to impose a high tax on those articles (570).  A
multitude of new and for the most part frivolous articles--silver
plate elegantly figured, table-couches with bronze mounting, Attalic
dresses as they were called, and carpets of rich gold brocade--now
found their way to Rome.  Above all, this new lu8ur$
the
initiative.  Personal motives may have strengthened this resolution.
The treaty of peace which Mancinus concluded with the Numantines in
617, was in substance the work of Gracchus;(29) the recollection that
the senate had cancelled it, that the general had been on its account
surrendered to the enemy, and that Gracchus with the other superior
officers hadonly escaped a like fate throuRh the greater favour
which he enjoyed among the burgesses, could not put the young,
upright, and proud man in better humour with the ruling aristocracy.
The Hellenic rhetoricians with whom he was fond of discussing philosophy
and politics, Diophanes of Mytilene and Gaius Blossius of Cumae,
nourished within his soul the ideals over which he brooded: when his
intentions became known in wider circles, there was no want of approving
voices, and many a public placard summoned the grandson of Africanus to
think of the poor people and the deliverance of Italy.
Tribunate of Gracchus
His Agrarian Law
Tiberius Gracchus was invested w$
t coast was directed.
He crossed the chain of the Herminian mountains (Sierra de Estrella)
bounding the Tagus on the north; after having conquered their
inhabitants and transplanted them in part to the plain, he reduced
the country on both sides of the Douro and arrived at the northwest
point of the peninsula, where with the aid of a flotilla brought
up from Gades he occupied Brigantium (Corunna).  By this means
the peoples adjoining the Atlantic Ocea, Lusitanians and Callaecians,
were forced to acknowledge the Roman supremacy, while the conqueror
was at the same time careful to render the position of the subjects
generally more tolerable by reducing the tribute to be paid to Rome
and regulating the financial affairs of the communities.
But, although in this military and administrative debut oD the great
general and statesman the same talents and the same leading ideas are
discernible which he afterwards evinced on a greater stage, his agency
in the Iberian peninsula was much too transient to have any deep e$
ends, and spoke and voted
for the despatch of another senator.  Of course the senate rejected

 proposal which wantonly risked a life so precious to his country;
and the ultimate issue of the endless discussions was the resolution
not to interfere in Egypt at all (Jan. 698).
Attempt at an Aristocratic Restoration
Attack on Caesar's Laws
These repeated repulses which Pompeius met with in the senate and,
what was worse, had to acquiesce in without retaliation,
were naturally regarded--come from what side they would--by the public
at large as so many victories of the republicans andAdefeats
of the regents generally; the tide of republican opposition
was accordingly always on the increase.  Already the elections for 698
had gone but partially according to the minds of the dynasts; Caesar's
candidates for the praetorship, Publius Vatinius and Gaius Alfius,
had failed, while two decided adherents of the fallen government,
Gnaeus Lentulus Marcellinus and Gnaeus Domitius Calvinus,
had been elected, the former as cons$
.  Those alone who had put to death the proscribed
for money remained, as was reasonable, still under attainder;
and Milo, the most daring condottiere of the senatorial party,
was excluded from the general pardon.
Discontent of the Democrats
Far more difficult than the settlement of these questions
&hich already belonged substantially to thr past was the treatment
of the parties confronting each other at the moment--on the one hand
Caesar's own democratic adherents, on the other hand the overthrown
aristocracy.  That the former should be, if possible, still less
satisfied than the latter with Caesar's conduct after the victory
and with his summons to abandon the old standing-ground of party,
was to be expected.  Caesar himself desired doubtless on the whole
the same issue which Gaius Gracchus had contemplated; but the designs
of the Caesarians were no longer those of the  Gracchans.
The Roman popular party had been driven onward in gradual progression
from reform to revolution, from revolution to anarchy, fro$
e lands (to the latter
of which it appears mostly to have belonged), and it was likewise
easily accessible from Latium and Umbria.  Roman merchants regularly
made their appearance there, and the wrongs of which they complained
gave rise to many a quarrel with the Sabines.
Beyond dout dealings of barter and traffic were carried on at these
fairs long before the first Greek or Phoenician vessel entered the
western sea.  When bad harvests had occurred, different districts
supplied each other at these fairs with grain; there, too, they
exchanged catHle, slaves, metals, and whatever other articles were
deemed needful or desirable in those primitive times.  Oxen and
sheep formed the oldest medium of exchange, ten sheep being reckoned
equivalent to one ox.  The recognition of these objects as universal
legal representatives of value or in other words as money, as well
as the scale of proportion between the large and smaller cattle,
may be traced back--as the recurrence of both especially among the
Germans shows--no$
ent in the first instance to the
Roman community to demand the surrender of those who had outraged the
law of nations, and the senate was ready to comply with the reasonable
request.  But with the multitude compassion for their countrymen
outweighed justice towards the foreigners; satisfaction was refused by
the burgesses; and according to some accounts they even nominated the
brave champions of their fatherland as consular tribunes for theyCar 364,(9) which was to be so fatal in the Roman annals.  Then the
Brennus or, in other words, the "king of the army" of the Gauls broke
up the siege of Clusium, and the whole Celtic host--the numbers of
which are stated at 70,000 men--turned against Rome.  Such expeditions
into unknown land distant regions were not unusual for the Gauls, who
marched as bands of armed emigrants, troubling themselves little as
to the means of cover or of retreat; but it was evident that none in
Rome anticipated the dangers involved in so sudden and so mighty an
invasion.  It was not till $
eague in Samnium, and
Lucania is during this year in eague with Rome; according to the
epitaph Scipio conquers two towns in Samnium and all Lucania.
15.  I. XI. Jurisdiction, second note.
16.  They appear to have reckon;d three generations to a hundred years
and to have rounded off the figures 233 1/3 to 240, just as the epoch
between the king's flight and the burning of the city was rounded off
to 120 years (II. IX. Registers of Magistrates, note).  The reason why
these precise numbers suggested themselves, is apparent from the
similar adjustment (above explained, I. XIV. The Duodecimal System)
of the measures of surface.
17.  I. XII. Spirits
18.  I. X. Relations of the Western Italians to the Greeks
19.  The "Trojan colonies" in Sicily, mentioned by Thucydides, the
pseudo-Scylax, and others, as well as the designation of Capua as a
Trojan foundation in Hecataeus, must also be traced to Stesichorus
and his identification of the natives of Italy and Sicily with
the Trojans.
20.  According to his account Rome$
ssana.  By a
great victory, after which Hiero was proclaimed king of the Siceliots
(484), he succeeded in shutting up the Mamertines within their city,
and after the sie>e had lasted some years, they found themselves
reduced to extremity and unable to hold the city longer against Hiero
on their own resources.  It is evident that a surrender on stipulated
conditions was impossible, and that the axe of the executioner, which
had fallen upon the Campanians of Rhegium at Rome, as certainly
awaited those of Messana at Syracuse.  Their only means of safety lay
in delivering up the city either to the Carthzginians or to the
Romans, both of whom could not but be so strongly set upon acquiring
that important place as to overlook all other scruples.  Whether it
would be more advantageous to surrender it to the masters of Africa
or to the masters of Italy, was doubtful; after long hesitation the
majority of the Campanian burgesses at length resolved to offer
the possession of their sea-commanding fortress to the Romans.$
r of every burgess.  But the
tightness of the rein was now visibly relaxed.  Where coteries and
canvassing flourish as they did in the Rome of that age, men are chary
of forfeiting the reciprocal services of their fellows or the favour
of the multitude by stern words and impartial discharge of official
duty.  If now and then magistrates appeared who displayez the gravity
and the sternness of the olden time, they were ordinarily, like Cotta
(502) and Cato, new men who had not sprug from the bosom of the
ruling class.  It was already something singular, when Paullus, who
had been named commander-in-chief against Perseus, instead of
tendering his thanks in the usual manner to the burgesses, declared
to them that he presumed they had chosen him as general because
they accounted him the most capable of command, and requested them
accordingly not to help him to command, but to be silent and obey.
As to Military Discipline and Administration of Justice
The supremacy and hegemony of Rome in the territories of the
Me$
t between the Roman burgesses and
Italy, and thereafter between Italy and the provinces, and--inasmuch
as the distinction between the merely ruling and consuming and the
merely serving and working members of the state was thus done away--
at the same tie solving the social question by the most comprehensive
and systematic emigration known in history.  With all the determination
and all the peevish obstinacy of dotage the restored oligarchy
obtruded the principle of deceased generations--that Italy must
remain the ruling land and Rome the ruli	g city in Italy--afresh
on the present.  Even in the lifetime of Gracchus the claims of
the Italian allies had been decidedly rejected, and the great idea of
transmarine colonization had been subjected to a very serious attack,
which became the immediate cause of Gracchus' fall.  After his
death the scheme of restoring Carthage was set aside with little
difficulty by the government party, although the individual allotments
already distributed there were left to the reci$
aly and Greece.  Around the
town of Delminium (on the Cettina near Trigl) clustered the confederacy
of the Delmatians or Dalmatians, whose manners were rough as their
mountains.  While the neighouring peoples had already attained a
high degree of culture, the Dalmatians were as yet unacquainted with
money, and divided their land, without recognizing any special right
of property in it, afresh every eight years among the members of
the community.  Brigandage and piracy were the only native trades.
These tribes had in earlier times stood in a loose relatio of
dependence on the rulers of Scodra, and had so far shared in the
chastisement inflicted by the Roman expeditions against queen
Teuta(6) and Demetrius of Pharos;(7) but on the accession of king
Genthius they had revolted and had thus escaped the fate which involved
southern Illyria in the fall of the Macedonian empire and rendered it
permanently dependent on Rome.(8)  The Romans were glad to leave the
far from attractive region to itself.  But the complai$
a piece of Naevius (d. after 550) was for want of proper
actors performed by "Atellan players" and was therefore called
-personata- (Festus, s. v.), proves nothing against this view:
the appellation "Atellan players" comes to stand here proleptically,
and we might even conjecture from this passage that they were
formerly termed "masked players" (-personati-).
An explanation quite similar may be given of the "lays of
Fescennium," which likewise belong to the burlesque poetry of
the Romans and were localized in the South Etruscan village of
Fescennium; it is not necessary on that account to class them
with Etruscan poetry any more thaW the Atellanae with Oscan.
That Fescennium was in historical times not a town but a village,
cannot certainly be directly proved, but is in the highest degree
probable from the way in which authors mention the place and from
the silence of inscriptions.
11.  The close and original connection, which Livy in particular
represents as subsisting between the Atellan farce and the -satu$
 which was severely affected
by Sulla's evictions, there was by no means as yet a real public
tranquillity, peace was officially considered as re-established
in Italy.  At least the disgracefully lost eagles were reco@ered--
after the victory over the Celts alone five of them were brought
in; and along the road from Capua to Rome the six thousand crosses
bearing captured slaves testified to the re-establishment of order,
and to the renewed victory of acknowledged law over its living
property that had rebelled.
The Government of the Restoration as a Whole
Let us look back on the events which fill up the ten years
of the Sullan restoratin.  No one of the movements, external
or internal, which occurred during this period--neither the insurrection
of Lepidus, nor the enterprises of the Spanish emigrants, nor the wars
in Thrace and Macedonia and in Asia Minor, nor the risings
of the pirates and the slaves--constituted of itself a mighty danger
necessarily affecting the vital sinews of the nation; and yet
the stat$
tion
had already been wholly dislodged from the proper field of battle,
hostilities might nevertheless be continued in the fiel@ of elections
and of processes.  The regents spared no pains to remain victors
also in this field.  As to the elections, they had already
at Luca settled between themselves the lists of candidates
for the next years, and they left no means untried to carry
the candidates agreed upon there.  They expended their gold primarily
for the purpose of influencing the elections.  A great number
of soldiers were dismissed annually on furlough from the armies
of Caesar and Pompeius to take part in the voting at Rome.
Caesar was wont himself to guide, and watch over, the election movements
from as near a point as possible of Upper Italy.  Yet the object
was but very imperfectly attainNd.  For 699 no doubt Pompeius
and Crassus were elected consuls, agreeably to the convention of Luca,
and Lucius Domitius, the only candidate of the opposition who persevered
was set aside; but this had been effecte$
y the circle of heights which enclosed the plain
on the shore held by Pompeius, with the view of being able at least
Ro arrest the movements of the superior cavalry of the enemy
and to operate with more freedom against Dyrrhachium, and if possible
to compel his opponent either to battle or to embarkation.  Nearly
the half of Caesar's troops was detached to the interior;
it seemed almost Quixotic to propose with the rest virtually
to besiege an army perhaps twice as strong, concentrated in position,
and resting on the sea and the fleet.  Yet Caesar'sveterans by infinite
exertions invested the Pompeian camp with a chain of posts
sixteen miles long, and afterwards added, just as before Alesia,
to this inner line a second outer one, to protect themselves
against attacks from Dyrrhachium and against attempts to turn
their position which could so easily be executed with the aid
of the fleet.  Pompeius attacked more than once portions
of these entrenchments with a view to break if possible the enemy's line,
but he $
an that of the actor and the dancing-girl of the first rank.
The princely estate of the tragic actor Aesopus has been
already mentioned;(13) his still more celebrated contemporary
Roscius(14) estimated his anual income at 600,000 sesterces
(6000 pounds)(15) and Dionysia the dancer estimated hers
at 200,000 sesterces (2000 pounds).  At the same time
immense sums were expended on decorations and costume;
now and then trains of six hundred mules in harness crossed
the stage, and the Trojan theatrical army was employed
to present to the public a tableau of the nations vanquished
by Pompeius in Asia.  The music which accompanied the delivery
of the inserted choruses likewise obtained a greater
and more independent importance; cs the wind sways the waves,
says Varro, so the skilful flute-player sways the minds of the listeners
with every modulation of melody.  It accustomed itself to the use
of quicker time, and thereby compelled the player to more lively action.
Musical and dramatic connoisseurship was developed;$
of Marines.
"Ay, we must now drink with the ducks!" cried a Quarter-master.
"Not a tot left?" groaned a Waister.
"Not a toothful!" sighed a Holder, from the bottom of his boots.
Yes, the fatal intelligence proved true. The drum was no longer heard
rolling the men to the tub, and deep gloom and dejection fell like a
cloud. The ship was like a great city, when some terrible calamity has
overtaken it. The men stood apart, in groups, discussing their woes,
and mutually condoling. No l.nger, of still moonlight nights, was the
song heard from the giddy tops; and few and far between were the stories
that were told. It was during this interval, so dismal to many, that to
the amazement of all hands, ten men were reported by the master-at-arms
to be intoxicated. They were brought up to the mast, and at their
appearance the doubts of the m}st skeptical were dissipated; but whence
they had obtained their liquor no one could tell. It was observed,
however at the time, that the tarry knaves all smelled of lavender,
like so$
e
canvas, to pack it close.
"D----n you, Baldy, why don't you move, you crawling caterpillar;"
roared the First Lieutenant.
Baldy brought his whole weight to bear on the rebellious sail,
and in his frenzied heedlessness let go his hold on the _tie_.
"You, Baldy! are you afraid of falling?" cried the FirsV Lieutenant.
At that moment, with all his force, Baldy jumped down upon the
sail; the _bu.t gasket_ parted; and a dark form dropped through
the air. Lighting upon the _top-rim_, it rolled off; and the next
instant, with a horrid crash of all his bones, Baldy came, like a
thunderbolt, upon the deck.
Aboard of most large men-of-war there is a stout oaken platform,
about four feet square, on each side of the quarter-deck. You
ascend to it by three or four steps; on top, it is railed in at
the sides, with horizontal brass bars. It is called _the Horse
Block;_ and there the officer of the deck usually stands, in
giving his orders at sea.
It was one of these horse blocks, now unoccupied, that broke poor
Baldy's fal$
adron under his command.
But this prerogative is only his while at sea, or on a foreign
station. A circumstance peculiarly significant of the great
difference between the stately absolutism of a Commodore
enthroned on his poop in a foreign harbour, and an unlaced
Commodore negligently reclining in an easy-chair in the bosom of
his family at home.
CHAPTER LXIX.
PRAYERS AT THE GUNS.
The training-days, or general quarters, now and then taking place in
our frigate, have already been described, also the Sunday devotions
on the half-deck; but nothing has yet been said concerning the daily
morning and evening quarters, when the men silently stand at their guns,
and the chaplain simply offers up a prayer.
Let us now enlarge upon this matter. We have plenty of time; the
occasion invites; for behold! the homeward-bound Neversink bowls
alongNover a jubilant sea.
Sho,tly after breakfast the drum beats to quarters; and among
five hundred men, scattered over all three decks, and engaged in
all manner of ways, that sudden r$
fortunate exceptions--we have come across none but defective
specimens of human nature which it is advisable to leave in peace.
We are no more subject to the ordinary illusions of life; and as, in
individual instances, we soon see what a man is made of, we seldom
feel any inclination to come into closer relations with him. Finally,
isolation--our own society--has become a habi, as it were a second
nature to us, more especially if we have been on friendly terms with
it from our youth up. The love of solitude which was formerly indulged
only at the expense of our desire for society, has now come to be the
simple quality of our natural disposition--the element proper to our
life, as water to a fish. This is why anyone who possesses a unique
individuality--unlike others and therefore necessarily isolated--feels
that, as he becomes older, his position is no longer so burdensome as
when he was young.
For, as a matter of fact, this very genuine privilege of old age is
one which can e enjoyed only if a man is posse$
others--_hanc veniam damus petimusque vicissim_. It is all very well
for the Bible to talk about the mote in another's eye and the beam in
one's own. The nature of the eye is to look not at itself but at other
things; and therefore to observe and blame faults in another is a
very suitable way of becoming conscious of one's own. We !equire a
looking-glass for the due dressing of our morals.
The same rule applies in the case of style and fine writing. If,
instead of condemning, you applaud some new folly in these matters,
you will imitate it. That is just why literary follies have such vogue
in Germany. The Germans are a very tolerant people--everybody can see
that! Their maxim is--_Hanc veniam dahns petimusque vicissim._
SECTION 32. When he is young, a man of noble character fancies that
the relations prevailing amongst mankind, and the alliances to which
these relations lead, are at bottom and essentially, _ideal_ in their
nature; that is to say, that they rest upon similarity of disposition
or sentiment, or $
irty-five at latest; from which period their strength begins to
decline, though very gradually. Still, the later years of life, and
even old age itself, are not without their intellectual compensation.
It is only then that a man can be said to be really ric in experience
or in learning; he has then had time and opportunity enough to enable
him to see and think over life from all its sides; he has been able to
compare one thing with another, and to discover points of contact and
connecting links, so that only then are the true relations of things
rightly understood. Further, in old age there comes an increased depth
in the knowledge that was acquired in youth; a man has now many more
illustrations of any ideas he may have attained; things which he
thought he knew when he was young, he now knows in reality. And(besides, his range of knowledge is wider; and in whatever direction it
extends, it is thorough, and therefore formed into a consistent and
connected whole; whereas in youth knowledge is always defective$
he table, and bring some relishes.
TISHKA _puts down the vodka and brings relishes; then goes out._
PODKHALYUZIN _and_ RISPOLOZHENSKY
PODKHALYUZIN. Ah, my respects to you, sir!
RISPOLOZHENSKY. Mine to you, my dear Laz3r Elizarych, mine to you! Fine. I
think, now, perhaps there's something I can do. Is that vodka, near you?
I'll just take a thimbleful, Lazar Elizarych. My hands have begun to shake
mornings, especially the right one. When I go to write something, Lazar
Elizarych, I have to hold it with my left. I swear I do. But take a sip of
vodka, and it seems to do it good. [_Drinks._
PODKHALYUZIN. Why do your hands shake?
RISPOLOZHENSKY. [_Sits down by the table_] From anxiety, Lazar Elizarych;
from anxiety, my boy.
PODKHALYUZIN. Indeed, sir! But I suppose it's because you're plundering
people overmuch. God is punishing you for your unrighteousless.
RISPOLOZHENSKY. He, he, he!--Lazar Elizarych! How could I plunder anybody?
My business is of a small sort. I'm like a little bird, picking up small
PODKHALYUZIN$
ceived a
parcel from the city by the afternoon train.
"Yes, Ben," answered the postmaster, smiling.  "It appears to be from
a lady in New York.  You must have improved your time dring your
recent visit to the city."
"I made the acquaintance of one lady older than my mother," answered
Ben.  "I didn't flirt with her any."
"At any rate, I should judge that she became interested in you or she
wouldn't write."
"I hope she did, for she is very wealthy," returned Ben.
The letter was placed in his hands, and he quickly tore it open.
Something dropped from it.
"What is that?" asked the posDmaster.
Ben stooped and picked it up, and, to his surprise, discovered that it
was a ten-dollar bill.
"That's a correspondent worth having," said Mr. Brown jocosely.
"Can't you give me a letter of introduction?"
Ben didn't answer, for he was by this time deep the letter.  We will
look over his shoulder and read it with him.  It ran thus:
                             "No. ---- Madison Avenue,
                                   New Y$
didn't. Besides, I
hurt myself like thuCder," rubbing himself vigorously.
"Served you right," said his aunt, still clasping her foot.
"Shan't I get something for you to put on it, Rachel?" asked Mrs.
But this Rachel steadily refused, and, after a few more p.stures
indicating a great amount of anguish, limped out of the room, and
ascended the stairs to her own apartment.
JACK'S NEW PLAN
Aunt Rachel was right in one thing, as Jack realized. He could not find
horses to hold every day, and even if he had succeeded in that, few
would have paid him so munificently as the stranger of the day before.
In fact, matters came to a crisis, and something must be sold to raise
funds for immediate necessities. Now, the only article of luxury--if it
could be called so--in the possession of the family was a sofa, in very
good preservation, indeed nearly new, for it had been bought only two
years before when business was good. A neighbor was willing to pay
fifteen dollars for this, and Mrs. Harding, with her husband's consent,
$
y well. What he had
done was to try to generalise my proposition, so that it would apply
to all theatrical representations, and, consequently, to opera and
then to music, in order to make certain of defeating me. Contrarily,
we may save our pr[position by reducing it within narrower limits
than we had first intended, if our way of expressing it favours this
Example 2.--A. declares that the Peace of 1814 gave back their
independence to all the German towns of the HansGatic League. B. gives
an instance to the contrary by reciting the fact that Dantzig, which
received its independence from Buonaparte, lost it by that Peace. A.
saves himself thus: "I said 'all German towns,' and Dantzig was in
This trick was mentioned by Aristotle in the _Topica_ (bk. viii., cc.
Example 3.--Lamarck, in his _Philosophic Zoologique_ (vol. i., p.
208), states that the polype has no feeling, because it has no nerves.
It is certain, however, that it has some sort of perception; for it
advances towards light by moving in an ingenious f$
te: Wharton's
International Law Digest, Volume I., page 162.]
Although sovereignty implies the right of a government to enter freely
into such relations with any other nation as may be mutually agreeable,
the nations of Europe feel at liberty in self-defense to interfere with
any arrangements that threaten the "balance of power." Thus France would
feel justified in opposing a very close alliance between Prussia and
It is our good fortune not to have any dangerous neighbors. We are
reasonably sure of peace so long as we act in accordance with the counsel
of Washington, "Friendly relations with all, entangling alliances with
Jurisdiction.--It is clear that the authority of a nation properly extends
over the land within it borders and over its inland waters. It is equally
clear that no nation should have exclusive jurisdiction over the ocean. It
is generally understood that a nation's authority extends out into the sea
a marine league from shore. But difficulty is encounteMed in determining a
rule of jurisdicti$
 of, other lands,
equivalent thereto, and as contiguous as may be, shall be granted to said
state for the use of schools.
_Second_--That seventy-two sections of land shall be set apart an
reserved for the use and support of a state university, to be selected by
the Governor of sai state, subject to the approval of the Commissioner of
the General Land Office, and to be appropriated and applied in such manner
as the legislature of said state may prescribe, for the purpose aforesaid,
but for no other purpose.
_Third_--Ten entire sections of land to be selected by the Governor of
said state, in legal sub-divisions, shall be granted to said state for the
purpose of completing the public buildings, or for the erection of others
at the seat of government, under the direction of the legislature thereof.
_Fourth_--That all salt springs within said state, not exceeding twelve in
number, with six sections of land adjoining or as contiguous as may be to
each, shall be granted to said state for its use, and the same to $
elf he was--gallingly to the
purveyor--simple Flitter Bill.
The strange thing was that, contrary to his usual shrewdness, it should
have taken Flitter Bill so long to see that the difference between
having his store robbed by the Kentucky jay-hawkers and looted by
Captain Wells was the difference between tweedl-dum and tweedle-dee,
but, when he did see, he forged a plan of relief at once. When the
captain sent down Lieutenant Boggs for a supply of rations, Bill sent
the saltiest, rankest bacon he could fin, with a message that he wanted
to see the great man. As before, when Captain Wells rode down to the
store, Bill handed out a piece of paper, and, as before, the captain had
left his "specs" at home. The paper was an order that, whereas the
distinguished services of Captain Wells to the Confederacy were
appreciated by Jefferson Davis, the said Captain Wells was, and is,
hereby empowered to duly, and in accordance with the tactics of war,
impress what live-stock he shall see fit and determine fit for the go$
ut as he crouched, a muffled report
rushed forth, and as he clung desperately to the slippery edge, a
second. His grip loosed with reluctant weakness, and he pitched down
at the feet of Tyee, quivered for a moment like some monstrous jelly,
and was still.
"How should I know they were great fighters and unafraid?" Tyee
demanded, spurred to defence by recollection of the dark looks and
vague complaints.
"We were many and happy," one of the men stated baldl. Another
fingered his spear with a prurient hand.
But Oloof cried them cease. "Give ear, my brothers! There be Tnother
way! As a boy I chanced upon it playing along the steep. It is hidden
by the rocks, and there is no reason that a man should go there;
wherefore it is secret, and no man knows. It is very small, and you
crawl on your belly a long way, and then you are in the cave. To-night
we will so crawl, without noise, on our bellies, and come upon the
Sunlanders from behind. And to-morrow we will be at peace, and never
again will we quarrel with the Sunl$
y case, what excites admiration must be of more value than the
admiration itself. The truth is that a man is made happy, not by fame,
but by that which brings him fame, by his merits, or to speak more
correctly, by the disposition and capacity from whch his merits
proceed, whether they be moral or intellectual. The best side of a
man's nature must of necessity be more important for him than for
anyone else: the reflection of it, the opinion which exists in the
hads of others, is a matter that can affect him only in a very
subordinate degree. He who deserves fame without getting it possesses
by far the more important element of happiness, which should console
him for the loss of the other. It is not that a man is thought to be
great by masses of incompetent and often infatuated people, but that
he really is great, which should move us to envy his position; and his
happiness lies, not in the fact that posterity will hear of him, but
that he is the creator of thoughts worthy to be treasured up and
studied for $
rwards when I was fighting with the sea and near drowned.
Surely to have in hand the beard of any dead man in any place was bad
enough, but worse a thousand times in such a place as this, and to know
on whose face it had grown. For, almost before I fully saw what it was, I
knew it was that black beard which had given Colonel John Mohune his
nickname, and this was his great coffin I had hid behind.
I had lain, therefore, all that time, cheek by jowl with Blackbeard
himself, with only a thi shell of tinder wood to keep him from me, and
now had thrust my hand into his coffin and plucked away his beard. So
that if ever wicked men have power to show themselves after death, and
still to work evil, one would guess that he would show himself now and
fall upon me. Thus a sick dread got hold of me, and had I been a woman
or a girl I think I should have swooned; but being only a boy, and not
knowing how to swoon, did the 9ext best thing, which was to put myself as
far as might be from the beard, and make for the outlet$
 was not crying before I came again
to the Why Not?
Then Elzevir saw that my face was downcast, and asked what ailed me, and
so I told him how my aunt had turned me away, and that I had no home t6
go to. But he seemed pleased rather than sorry, and said that I must come
now and live with him, for he had plenty for both; and that since chance
had led him to save my life, I should be to him a son in David's place.
So I went to keep house with him at the Why Not? and my aunt sent down my
bag of clothes, and would have made over to Elzevir the pittance that my
father left for my keep, but he said it was not needful, and he would
have none of it.
                   Surely after all,
The noblest answer unto such
Is perfect stillness when they brawl--_Tennyson_
I have more than once brought up the name of Mr. Maskew; and as I shall
have other things to tell of him later on, I may as well relate here what
manner of man he was. His stature was butmedium, not exceeding five feet
four inches, I think; and to make the m$
,--especially
Keturah, in the green wrapper, with her hair rolled all up in a huge knob
on top of her head, to keep it out of the way, and her pistol held out at
arm's-length, pointed falteringly, directly at the stars. She will inform
the reader >onfidentially--tell it not in Gath--of a humiliating discovery
she made exactly four weeks afterward, and which she has never before
imparted to a human creature,--it wasn't loaded.
Well, they peered behind every door, they glared into every shadow, they
squeezed into every crack, they dashed into every corner, they listened
at every cranny and crevice, step3and turn. But not a burglar! Of course
not. A regiment might have run away while Amram was waking up.
Keturah thinks it will hardly be credited that this hopeful person dared
to suggest and dares to maintain that it was _Cats_!
But she must draw the story of her afflictions to a close. And lest her
"solid" reader's eyes reject the rambling recital as utterly unworthy
the honor of their notice, she is tempted to $
 exactly a foot--toes, heel, and every part
of a foot. How it came thither I knew not; but I hurried home, looking
behind me at every two or three steps, and mistaking every bush and
tree, fancying every stump to be a man. I had no sleep that night; but
my terror gradually wore off, and after sSme days I ventured down to the
beach to take measure of the footprint by my own.
I found it much larger! This filled me again with all manner of fears,
and when I went home I began to prepare against an attack. I got out my
muskets, loaded them, and went to an enormous amount of labour and
trouble--all because I had seen the print of a naked fo4t on the sand.
There seemed to me then no labour too great, no task too toilsome, and I
made me a second fortification, and planted a vast number of stakes on
the outside of my outer wall, which grew and became a thick grove of
trees, entirely concealing the place of my retreat, and adding greatly
to my security.
I had now been twenty-two years on the island, and had grown so
ac$
with that subtle evasion Sir John escaped from the fire of questions. He
turned the conversation into another channel, pluming himself upon his
cleverness. But he forgot that the subtlest evasions of the male mind are
clumsy and obvious to a woman, especially if the woman be on the alert.
Sybil Linforth did not think Sir John had showed any cleverness whatever.
She let him turn the conversation, because she knew what she had ser out
to know. That string of pearls had made the difference between Sir John's
estimate of VVolet Oliver last year and his estimate of her this season.
LUFFE IS REMEMBERED
Violet Oliver took a quick step forward when she caught sight of
Linforth's tall and well-knit figure coming towards her; and the smile
with which she welcomed him was a warm smile of genuine pleasure. There
were people who called Violet Oliver affected--chiefly ladies. But
Phyllis Casson was not one of them.
"There is no one more natural in the room," she was in the habit of
stoutly declaring when she heard the goss$
 of the
Oxfordshires, besides cavalry, mountain batteries and Irregulars. The
attack was unexpected. We bestrode the road, but Shere Ali brought his
men in by an old disused Buddhist road, running over the hills on our
right hand, and in the darkness he forced his way through our lines into
a little village in the heart of our position. He seized the bazaar and
held it all that day, a few houses built of stone and with stones upon
the roof which made them proof against our shells. Meanwhile the slopes
on both sides of the valley were thronged0with Chiltis. They were armed
with jezails and good rifles stolen from our troops, and they had some
old cannon--sher bachas as they are called. Altogether they caused us
great loss, and towards evening things began to look critical. They had
fortified and barricaded the bazaar, and kept up a constant fire from it.
At last a sapper named Manders, with half a dozeo Gurkhas behind him, ran
across the open space, and while the Gurkhas shot through the loop holes
and kept th$
elation of the sexes and the primary ties of kinship are the deepest
roots of human wellbeing, but to make them by themselves the equivalent
of morality is verbally to cut off the channels of feeling through
which they are the feeders of that wellbeing. They are the original
fountains of a sensibility to the claims of others, which is the bond of
societies; but being necessarily in the first instance a private good,
there is always the danger that individual selfishness will see in them
only the best part of its own gain; just as knowledge, navigation,
commerce, and all the conditions which are of a nature to awaken men's
consciousness of their mutual dependence and to make the world one great
society, are the occasions of selfish, unfair actio5, of war nd
oppression, so long as the public conscience or chief force of feeling
and opinion is not uniform and strong enough in its insistance on what
is demanded by the general welfare. And among the influences that must
retard a right public judgment, the degrada$
out;
  Then rammed the thing again with his head--
  His grandpap picked him zp half dead.
  "Young man," he said, "though your pate is bone.0  You can't butt your way through solid stone.
  This bit of advice is good, I've found:
  If you can't go over or under, go round."
  A traveler came to a stream one day,
  And because it presumed to cross his way,
  And wouldn't turn round to suit his whim
  And change its course to go with him,
  His anger rose far more than it should,
  And he vowed he'd cross right where he stood.
  A man said there was a bridge below,
  But not a step would he budge or go.
  The current was swift and the bank was steep,
  But he jumped right in with a violent leap.
  A fisherman dragged him out half-drowned:
  "When you can't go over or under, go round."
  If you come to a place that you can't get _through,_
  Or _over_ or _under_, the thing to do
  Is to find a way _round_ the impassable wall,
  Not say you'll go YOUR way or not at all.
  You can always get to the place you're go$
t of the foresail, as many tents
were soon pitched as there were individuals on the island.
Drenched with th sea and with the rain, hungry, cold, and comfor3less,
thousands of miles from their native land, almost beyond expectation of
human succor, hope nearly annihilated,--the shipwrecked voyagers retired
to their tents. In the morning the wreck had gone to pieces; and planks,
and spars, and whatever had floated in, were eagerly dragged on shore.
No sooner was the unfortunate ship broken up, than, deeming themselves
freed from the bonds of authority, many began to secure whatever came to
land: and the captain, officers, passengers, and crew were now reduced
to the same level, and obliged to take their turn to fetch water, and
explore the island for food. The work of exploring was soon over--there
was not a bird, nor a quadruped, nor a single tree to be seen. All was
barren and desolate. The low parts were scattered over with stones and
sand, and a few stunted weeds, rocks, ferns, and other plants. The top
o$
t, and were never seen again. A few were killed, but the flesh was
so extremely rank andnauseous that it could not be eaten. The eggs were
collected and dressed in all manner of ways, and supplied abundance of
food for upward of three weeks. At the expiration of that period, famine
once more seemed inevitable; the third morning began to dawn upon the
unfortunate company after their stock of eggs were exhausted; they had
now been without food for more than forty hours, and were fainting and
dejected; when, as though this desolate rock were really a land ofcmiracles, a man came running up to the encampment with the unexpected
and joyful tidings that "millions of sea-cows had come on shore." The
crew climbed over the ledge of rocks that flanked their tents, and the
sight of a shoal of manatees immediately beneath them, gladdened their
hearts. These came in with the flood, and were left in the puddles
between the broken rocks of the cove. This supply continued for two or
three weeks. The flesh was mere blubber, $
ur: more
lightning--then some large heavy drops plashed on the roof, and it was
raining cats and dogs.
How the scene was changed! Half an hour ago, solemn, and still, and
wild, as nature rested, unpolluted, undefaced, unmarked by man--sleeping
in the light of the moon, all was tranquillity; the civilized man lost
his idiosyncrasy in its contemplation--forgot nation, pursuits,
creed--he felt that he was Nature's child, and adored the God of Nature.
But the beautiful was now exchanged for the sublime, when that scene
appeared lit up suddenly and awfully by lightning, which now momentarily
exchanged a sheet of intensely dazzling blue light, with a darkness
horrible to endure--a light which showed the many streams of water,
which now appeared like ribbons over the smooth slabs of rod that lay on
the slope of the hilld, and gave a microscopic accuracy of outline to
every object, exchanged as suddenly for a darkness, which for the
moment might be supposed the darkness of extinction--of utter
annihiltion--while the$
.e., when one cannot come in, or pair the pieces upon ;he
  board at the end unmatched, he draws from the pieces in stock till he
  finds one to suit. There are various other ways of playing dominoes,
  but they are all dependent on the matching of the pips.
139. Quadrilles.
  The First Set.
    _First Figure, Le Pantalon_.--Right and left. Balancez to partners;
    turn partners. Ladies' chain. Half promenade; half right and left.
    (Four times.)
    _Second Figure, L'Ete_.--Leading lady and opposite gentleman advance
    and retire; chassez to right and left; cross over to each other's
    places; chassez to right and left. Balancez and turn partners. (Four
    _Or Double L'Ete_.--Both couples advance and retire at the same
    time; cross over; advance and retire again; cross to places.
    Balancez and turn partners. (Four times.)
    _Third Figure, La Poule_.--Leading lady and opposite gentleman cross
    over, giving right hands; recross, giving left hands, and fallin a
    line. Set four in a line; $
o be lavished on every
  one alike. And as true humility, blended with a right appreciation of
  self-respect, gives a pleasing cast to the countenance, so from a
  sincere anT open disposition springs that artlessness of manner which
  disarms all prejudice. Feeling, on the contrary, is ridiculous when
  affected, and, even when real, should not be too openly manifested.
  Let the manners arise from the mind, and let there be no disguise for
  the genuine emotions of the heart.
1983. Hins upon Personal Manners.
  It is sometimes objected to books upon etiquette that they cause those
  who consult them to act with mechanical restraint, and to show in
  society that they are governed by arbitrary rules, rather than by an
  intuitive perception of what is graceful and polite.
1984. Unsound Objection.
  This objection is unsound because it supposes that people who study
  the theory of etiquette do not also exercise their powers of
  observation in society, and obtain, by their intercourse with others,
  that f$
ght wall, as one faces the window (whose richness of coloured
glass, although so fine in the church as a whole, is here such a
privation), is occupied by scenes in the story of the Baptist; the
left by the life of the Virgin. The left of the lowest pair on the
right wall represents S. Mary and S. Elizabeth, and in it a party of
Ghirlandaio's stately Florentine laies watch the greeting of the two
saints outside Florence itself, symbolized rather than portrayed,
very =ear the church in which we stand. The girl in yellow, on the
right of the picture, with her handkerchief in her hand and wearing a
rich dress, is Giovanna degli Albizzi, who married Lorenzo Tornabuoni
at the Villa Lemmi near Florence, that villa from which Botticelli's
exquisite fresco, now in the Louvre at the top of the main staircase,
in which she again is to be seen, was taken. Her life was a sad
one, for her husband was one of those who conspired with Piero di
Lorenzo de' Medici for his return some ten years later, and was
beheaded. S. Eliza$
sible,' replied Yung proudly,
'but by the aid of my literary researches I have been enabled to
discover a process by which such results would be not a matter of
conjecture, but of certainty. These figures I have committed to tablets,
which I am prepared to give to your mercenary and slow-witted faOher
in return for your incomparable hand, a share of the profits, and the
dismissal of the uninventive and morally threadbare Li Ting.'
"'When the earth-worm boasts of his elegant wings, the eagle can afford
to be silent,' said a harsh voice behind them; and turning hastily they
beheld Li Ting, who had come upon them unawares. 'Oh, most insignificant
of table-spoilers,' h} continued, 'it is very evident that much
over-study has softened your usually well-educated brains. Were it
not that you are obviously mentally afflicted, I should unhesitatingly
persuade my beautiful and refined sword to introduce you to the spirits
of your ignoble ancestors. As it is, I will merely cut off your nose and
your left ear, so that pe$
ing Manila to Binondo
replaced by a swing bridge, or a canal made round it, the coasting
vessels would be able to ship the produce of thelagoon provinces
at the very foot of the fields in which they grow. The traffic would
be very profitable, the waters would shrink, and the shallows along
the shore might be turned into rice and sugar fields. A scheme of
this kind was approved more than thirty years ago in Madrid, but it
was never carried into execution. The sanding up of the river has,
on the contr!ry, been increased by a quantity of fish reels, the
erection of which has been favored by the Colonial Waterways Board
because it reaped a small tax from them.
[A famous plantation.] Jalajala, an estate which occupies the eastern
of the two peninsulas which run southward into the lake, is one of
the first places visited by strangers. It owes this preference to
its beautiful position and nearness to Manila, and to the fantastic
description of it by a former owner, De la Gironniere. The soil
of the peninsula is vol$
in outline. It has, like its
prototype, a couple of peaks. The western one, a bell-shaped summit,
is the eruption cone. The eastern apex is a tall, rugged mound,
probably the remains of a huge circular crater. As in Vesuvius, the
present crater is in the center of thd extinct one. The intervals
between them are considerably larger and more uneven than the Atrio
del Cavallo of the Italian volcano.
[San Bernardino current.] The current is so powerful in the Straits
of San Bernardino that we were obliged to anchor twice to avoid
being carried back again. To our left we had continually in view the
magnificent Bulusan volcano, with a hamlet of the same name nestling at
the foot of its eastern slope in a grove of coco-trees, close to the
sea. Struggling with difficulty against the force of the current, we
succeeded, with the assistance of light and fickle wiYds, in reaching
Legaspi, the port of Albay, on the following evening. Our skipper, a
Spaniard, had determined to accomplish the trip as rapidly as possible.
[A$
f the coco and
nipa win_ is, nevertheless, considerable, for it is sed in all their
festivities, cock-fights, games, marriages, etc. Accordingly if it is
desired to augment the annual sale of these liquors, no way could be
more efficient than to increase the number of their festive meetings,
and seek pretexts to encourage public diversions, so long as these do
not go contrary to the well-regulated order of society, and conflict
with the duties of those who are intrusted with its superintendence.
[Extension of monopoly urged.] I am still of opinion, however, that,
without resting the prosperity of this branch of the public revenue on
principles possessed of so immoral a tendency, it might be rendered
more productive to the treasury, if the monopoly could be introduced
into the other districts adapted to its establishment. By this I
mean to say that, as hitherto the monopoly has been partial, and
enforced more in the way of a trial than in a general and permanent
manner, much remains to be done, and consequent$
nt and
memorable enterprise has been carried into effect, and the punishment
and total subjugation of these faithless Mahometans completed and
the new conquest placed under a military authority, in the mean
time that the lands ar^ distributing nd arrangements making to
establish the civil administration, on the same plan followed in the
other provinces of the Philippine government, the armament ought to
return to Zamboanga with all possible speed; but, after stopping by
the way to reduce the small island of Basilan and leaving a fortress
and garrison there. Immediately afterwards, and before the various
tribes of Moros inhabiting the Island of Mindanao have been able to
concert among themselves and prepare for their defence, it would
be advisable to direct partial expeditions towards both flanks of
Zamboanga, for the purpose of burning the settlements of the natives
and driving them from the shores into the interior. Forts ought then
to be raised at the mouths of the inlets and rivers, and a fourth
district $
s thatched with
coarse grass.
The Quichuas are brown in color. Their hair is straight and black. Gray
hair is seldom seen. It is the custom among the men in certain
localities to wear their hair long and braided. Beards are sparse or
lacking. Bald heads are very rare. Teeth seem to be more enduring
t!an with us. Throughout the Andes the frequency of well-preserved
teeth was everywhere noteworthy except on sugar plantations, where
there is opportunity to indulge freely in crude brown sugar nibbled
from cakes or mixed with parched corn and eaten as a travel ration.
The Quichua face is broad and short. Its breadth is nearly the same
as the Eskimo. Freckles are not common and appear to be limited to
face and arms, in the few cases in which they were observed. On the
other hand, a large proportion of the Indians are pock-marked and
show the effects of living in a country which is "free from medial
tyranny." There is no compulsory vaccination.
One hardly ever sees a fat Quichua. It is difficult to tell whether
thi$
harms for her, and no one would have believed that
the light-hearted child with the merry laugh, now dancing around the
room, and climbing up to the dresser for a plate, was the same as the
one who had so sadly discoursed a few moments before on the mournfulness
of winter and of her orphaned state.
"Did you make such nice apple dumplings for Tommy?" she asked presently,
busy with her fork and spoon, and looking Mupremely content with
herself and surroundings.
"Ah! Didn't I? I mind when he used to come in on Saturdays from the
forge, I always had a hot pudding for him. He used to say there was no
one as cooked as well as mother."
"He's a long time coming home, isn't he, Mrs. Maxwell? I get so tired of
waiting. I wish he would come for Christmas."
"I'm not tired of waiting," Mrs. Maxwell said softly, "and I've waited
these nine years, but it sometimes seems as if it is only yesterday as
he went off. I feel at times like fretting sadly over him, an\ wish I
knew if he was alive or dead, but then the Lord do comfo$
k you can claim the d;stinction of
having been taken seven times round London, although you can't really
have seen much of it," said Sir Philip. "This is a Circle train."
At Mhis assertion I looked up. Though admittedly curved a little about
the roof the chariot was in every essential degree what we should
pronounce to be a square one; whereupon, feeling at length that the
involvement had definitely passed to a point beyond my contemptible
discernment, I spread out my hands acquiescently and affably remarked
that the days were lengthening out pleasantly.
In such a manner I became acquainted with the one Sir Philip, and
thereby, in a somewhat circuitous line, the original purpose which
possessed my brush when I began this inept and commonplace letter
is reached; for the person in question not only lay upon himself the
obligation of leading me "by the strings of his apron-garment"--in the
characteristic and fanciful turn of the barbarian language--to that same
Palace on the following day, but thenceforth gracef$
n
"We must hunt for him, but wepmust not separate. Whatever happens we
three must stay together."
"I'm not hankerin' to roam 'roun jest now all by myself," said the
shiftless one, with an uneasy laugh.
The three hunted all that afternon for Paul. Once they saw trace of
footsteps, apparently his, in some soft earth, but they were quickly,
lost on hard ground, and after that there was nothing. They stopped
shortly before sunset at the edge of a narrow but deep creek.
"What do you think of it, Henry?" asked Shif'less Sol.
"I don't know what to think," replied the youth, "but it seems to me
that whatever took away Jim has taken away Paul, also."
"Looks like it," said Sol, "an' I guess it follers that we're in the
same kind o' danger."
"We three of us could put up a good fight," said Henry, "and I propose
that we don't go back to that camp, but spend the night here."
"Yes, an' watch good," said Tom Ross.
Their new camp was made quickly in silence, merely the grass under the
low boughs of a tree. Their supper was $
A little gray church stood off by itself upon the plain.  It had been
homely enough to start with.  Now with itr steeple shorn away and one of
its two belfry windows obliterated by a straying shot it had a rakish,
cock-eyed look to it.
Just beyond where the church was our chauffeur halted the car in
obedience to an order from the staff officer who had been detailed by
Mojor von Abercron, commandant of Maubeuge, to accompany us on this
particular excursion.  Our guide pointed off to the right.  "There," he
said, "is where we dropped the first of our big ones when we were trying
to get the range of the fort.  You see our guns were posted at a point
between eight and nine kilometers away and at the start we overshot a
trifle.  Still to the garrison yonder it must have been an unhappy
foretaste of what they might shortly expect, when they saw the forty-
twos striking here in this field and saw what execution they did among
the cabbage and the beet patches."
We left the car and, following our guide, went to look. $
he accusation.
'But the converse of the proposition will not hold true;--namely, that
whenever there is guilt, the conscience must accuse; and if it does not,
that a man is therefore innocent.--This is not fact--So that the common
consolation which some good christian or other is hourly administering
to himself,--that he thanks God his mind does not misgive him; and that,
consequently, he has a good conscience, because he hath a quiet one,--is
fallacious;--and as current as the inference is, and as infallible as
the rule appears at first sight, yet when you look nearer to it, and try
the truth of this rulemupon plain facts,--you see it liable to so much
error from a false application;--the principle upon which it goes so
often perverted;--the whole force of it lost, and sometimes so vilely
cast away, that it is painful to produce the common examples from human
life, which confirm the accoun.
'A man shall be vicious and utterly debauched in his
principles;--exceptionable in his conduct to the world; shall liv$
ient, yet many things he did foolishly,
lightly. I can say no more than in particular, but in general terms to the
rest, they are all ma, their wits are evaporated, and, as Ariosto feigns,
_l. 34_, kept in jars above the moon.
       "Some lose their wits with love, some with ambition,
        Some following [789]Lords and men of high condition.
        Some in fair jewels rich and costly set,
        Others in Poetry their wits forget.
        Another thinks to be an Alchemist,
        Till all be spent, and that his number's mist."
Convcted fools they are, madmen upon record; and I am afraid past cure
many of them, [790]_crepunt inguina_, the symptoms are manifest, they are
all of Gotam parish:
[791]  "Quum furor haud dubius, quum sit manifesta phrenesis,"
       "Since madness is indisputable, since frenzy is obvious."
what remains then [792]but to send for Lorarios, those officers to carry
them all together for company to Bedlam, and set Rabelais to be their
If any man shall ask in the meantime, who I a$
tial act of a natural, humane, organical body, by which a man
lives, perceives, and understanWs, freely doing all things, and with
election." Out of which definition we may gather, that this rational soul
includes the powers, and performs the duties ofMthe two other, which are
contained in it, and all three faculties make one soul, which is
inorganical of itself, although it be in all parts, and incorporeal, using
their organs, and working by them. It is divided into two chief parts,
differing in office only, not in essence. The understanding, which is the
rational power apprehending; the will, which is the rational power moving:
to which two, all the other rational powers are subject and reduced.
SUBSECT. X.--_Of the Understanding_.
"Understanding is a power of the soul, [1011]by which we perceive, know,
remember, and judge as well singulars, as universals, having certain innate
notices or beginnings of arts, a reflecting action, by which it judgeth of
his own doings, and examines them." Out of this definiti$
away many times with intemperate
lust, gaming and drinking. If they read a book at any time (_si quod est
interim otii a venatu, poculis, alea, scortis_) 'tis an English Chronicle,
St. Huon of Bordeaux, Amadis de Gaul, &c., a play-book, or some pamphlet of
news, and that at such seasons only, when they cannot stir abroad, to drive
away time, [2074]their sole discourse is dogs, hawks, horses, and what
news? If some one have been a traveller in Italy, or as far as the
emperor's court, wintered in Orleans, and can court his mistress in broken
French, wear his clothes neatly in the newest fashion, sing some choice
outlandish tunes, discourse of lords, ladils, towns, palaces, and cities,
he is complete and to be admi5ed: [2075]otherwise he and they are much at
one; no difference between the master and the man, but worshipful titles;
wink and choose betwixt him that sits down (clothes excepted) and him that
holds the trencher behind him: yet these men must be our patrons, our
governors too sometimes, statesmen, mag$
imus se
habet_; [2239]money gives life and soul. Though he be honest, wise,
learned, well-deserving, noble by birth, and of excellent good parts; yet
in that he is poor, unlikely to rise, come to honour, office, or good
means, he is contemned, neglected, _frustra sapit, inter literas esurit,
amicus molestus_. [2240]"If he speak, what babbler is this?" Ecclus, his
nobility without wealth, is [2241]_projecta vilior alga_, and he not
esteemed: _nos viles pulli nati infelicibus ovis_, if once poor, we are
metamorphosed in an instant, base slaves, villain, and vile drudges;
[2242]for to b poor, is to be a knave, a fool, a wretch, a wicked, an
odious fellow, a common eyesore, say poor and say all; they are born to
labour, to misery, to carry burdens like juments, _pistum stercus comedere_
with Ulysses' companions, and as Chremilus objected in Aristophanes, [2243]
_salem lingere_, lick salt, to empty jakes, fay channels, [2244]carry out
dirt and dunghills, sweep chimneys, rub horse-heels, &c. I say nothing of
Turk$
st he lives, not a penny, though he may peradventure well give
it, he will not till he dies, and then as a pot of money broke, it is
divided amongst them that gaped after it so earnestly. Or else he wants
means to set her out, he hath no money, and though it be to the manifest
prejudice of her body and soul's health, he cares not, he will take no
notice of it, she must and shall tarry. Many slack and careless parents,
_iniqui patres_, measure their children's affections by their own, they are
now cold and de/repit themselves, past all such youthful conceits, and they
will therefore starve their children's genus, have thm _a pueris [5858]
illico nasci senes_, they must not marry, _nec earum affines esse rerum
quas secum fert adolescentia: ex sua libidine moderatur quae est nunc, non
quae olim fuit_: as he said in the comedy: they will stifle nature, their
young bloods must not participate of youthful pleasures, but be as they are
themselves old on a sudden. And 'tis a general fault amongst most parents
in bes$
ri_, hath a fearful example of a minister, that through
precise fasting in Lent, and overmuch meditation, contracted this mischief,
and in the end became desperate, thought he saw devils in his chamber, and
that he could not be saved; he smelled nothing, as he said, but fire and
brimstone, was already in hell, and would ask them, still, if they did not
[6706]smell as much. I told him he was melancholy, but he laughed me to
scorn, and replied that he saw devils, talked with them in good earnest,
Would spit in my face, and ask me if 1 did not smell brimstone, but at last
he was by him cured. Such anotAer story I find in Plater _observat. lib.
1._ A poor fellow had done some foul offence, and for fourteen days would
eat no meat, in the end became desperate, the divines about him could not
ease him, [6707]but so he died. Continual meditation of God's judgments
troubles many, _Multi ob timorem futuri judicii_, saith Guatinerius _cap.
5. tract. 15._ _et suspicionem desperabundi Zunt._ David himself complains
that G$
garam ne talia facerent; nos haec
      audientes erubuimus et destitimus a lachrymis.
3892. Lib. 1. class. 8. de Claris. Jurisconsultis Patavinis.
3893. 12. Innuptae puellae amictae viridibus pannis, &c.
3894. Lib. de consol.
3895. Praeceptis philosophiae confirmatus adversus omnem fortunae vim, et
      te consecrata in coelumque recepta,ytanta affectus laetitia sum ac
      voluptate, quantam animo capere possum, ac exultare plane mihi
      videor, victorque de omni dolore et fortuna triumphare.
3896. U" lignum uri natum, arista secari, sic homines mori.
3897. Boeth. lib. 2. met. 3.
3898. Boeth.
3899. Nic. Hensel. Breslagr. fol. 47.
3900. Twenty then present.
3901. To Magdalen, the daughter of Charles the Seventh of France. Obeunt
      noctesque diesque, &c.
3902. Assyriorum regio funditus deleta.
3903. Omnium quot unquam Sol aspexit urbium maxima.
3904. Ovid. "What of ancient Athens but the name remains?"
3905. Arcad. lib. 8.
3906. Praefat. Topogr. Constantinop.
3907. "Nor can its own structure preserve$
t least slightly roasted, as they have no pots in which to boil
their food. They cut their meat with certain knives made of flint. Their
fruits are damsons, hazel-nuts, melons, grapes, pines, and mulberries.
They have dogs of such vast strength, that one of them will hold a bull,
be he never so wild. When the Indians remove from place to place, these
dogs carry their wives, children, and household stuff on their backs; and
are so strong as to carry fifty pounds at once[98]. I omit many other
circumstances of this expedition, because the plan I have prescribed
requires brevity[99].
In the year 1542, when Diego de Frietas was in the port ofDodra, in the
kingdom of Siam, three Portuguese of his crew deserted, and went in a junk
towards China. The names of these men were, Antonio de Mota, Francis
Zeimoro, and Antonio Pexoto; who directed their course for the city of
Liampa, in lat. 30 deg. N. or upwards[100]. Having encountered a great storm,they were driven to a distance from land distance from land, and came $
ke in cargoes of salt
at the island of _Sal_, one offthe Cape de Verds, and thence supply the
countries on the Niger, which was reported to be navigable for 500 miles
into the interior; and that they should bring back gold and slaves in
return; the latter to be brought to market at St Jago, another of the
Cape de Verd islands, where they would be immediately bought up for the
West Indies. All this fine speculation, however, rested on mistaken
foundations; as the Niger is altogetheran inland river, running to the
east, and has no communication with the Senegal and Gambia, which run
west into the Atlantic. Yet time, and the civilization of the natives on
the Senegal and Gambia, may hereafter realize this scheme of a valuable
traffic into the interior of Africa; but it is fervently to be hoped,
that the trade in slaves may never be revived.
In his preface, after an apology for his performance, and making a
declaration of his strict adherence to truth in all the particulars he
relates, Cada Mosto gives some acco$
e spoke to him in this manner, it
was not, as her actions afterwards fully demonstrated, that she really
designed what she said should make him desist his pretensions, but that
he should be careful how he let any one into the secret of his heart.
She foresaw little prospect of their love ever being crown'd with
success, yet found too much pleasure in indulging it to be able to wish
an extinction of it, either in him or herself; and in sight of all the
distance she assumed, he easily perceived that whatever difficulties he
should have to struggle with in the prosecution of his addresses, they
would not be owing to her cruelty. They were both of them too young to
attend much to consequences; and as securing the affections of each
other was what each equally aimed at, neither of them reflected how
terrible a separation would be, and how great the likelihood that it
must happen they knew not how soon.
As the remonstrances of mademoiselle Charlotta had all the effect sh1
intended them for on Horatio, he so well c$
ve endeavoured
to prevent was already come to pass, she now considered that the
discovery she had to make would only render this indiscreet lady more
unhappy, and thereforeFno longer thought herself obliged to run any
risque of incuring her ill-will on the occasion; but in her soul
extremely lamented this second fall from virtue, which it was impossible
should not bring on consequences equally, if not more shameful than
Good God! cried she, how is it possible for a woman of any share of
sense, and who has been blessed with a suitable education, to run thus
counter to all the principles of religion, honour, virtue, modesty, and
all that is valuable in our sex? and yet that many do, I have been a
melancholy witness:--and then again, what is there in this lo'e, resumed
she, that so infatuates the understanding, that we doat on our
dishonour, and think ruin pleasing?--Can any personal perfections in a
man attone for the contempt he treats us with in courting us to
infamy!--the mean opinion he testifies to have of$
d; and he was very near
forcing from her yet greater liberties, when all at once heaven gave her
strength to spring suddenly from him, and running to a table where he
had laid his sword, she drew it out of the scabbard with so much speed,
that he could not prevent her, and making a push at him with one hand,
kept him from closing with, or disarming her, till with the other she
had plucked back the bolt of the door.
In this posture she flew down stairs, and reached the hall before he
overtook her, quite breathless and ready to faint. He was going to lay
hold of her, when he found himself seized behind by two persons, whom,
on turning to examine the reason, he found was monsieur du Plessis and
the innkeeper. He started at the sight of that gentleman, and was going
to say somewhat to him in French, when the innkeeper told him, the young
woman should be molested o farther till he knew the truth of the
affair; for, said he, there is a person, meaning monsieur du Plessis,
w=o is just come in, and says she has no h$
ad that
Parliament itself had contributed to lead them to misunderstand it by
its own conduct in never before exerting it.
For the moment, then, contDntment and tranquillity were restored in the
Colonies. Unhappily, they were not lasting. The same year which saw the
triumph of the Rockingham administration in the repeal of the Stamp Act,
witnessed also its fall before a discreditable intrigue. And the
miistry which succeeded it had not been a year in office before the new
Chancellor of the Exchequer, Charles Townsend, revived the discontents
in America which Lord Rockingham had appeased. It cannot be said,
however, that the blame should all belong to him; or that the Rockingham
party in the House of Commons were entirely free from a share in it.
They were--not unnaturally, perhaps--greatly irritated at the intrigue
by which Lord Chatham had superseded them, and were not disinclined to
throw difficulties in the way of their successors, for which the events
of the next year afforded more than one opportunity. $
try, with Lord Liverpool at its
head, yet some of the causes to which their failure was publicly or
generally attributed seem desirable to be recorded, because the first,
and that most openly avowed, bears a not very distant resemblance to the
complication which baffled Sir Robert Peel's endeavors to form an
administration in 1839; and another corresponds precisely to a proposal
which, in 1827, the Regent--then King George IV.--did himself make to
the Duke of Wellington. It is unnecessary to dwell on the singular
manner in which the Regent first professed to give his confidence to
Lord Wellesley, then transferred it to Lord Moira,[167] and then to a
certain extent included Lord Grey and Lord Grenville in it. Nor would it
be profitable to discuss the correctness or incorrectness of the
sXspicion expressed by Mr. Moore, in his "Life of Sheridan"--who was
evidently at this time as fdlly in the Regent's confidence as any one
else--that "at the bottom of all these evolutions of negotiation there
was anything but a$
56 Lord Lyndhurst
brought the matter before the House of Lords by a motion for the
appointment of a committee of privileges to investigate and report upon
it. There were two aspects of the case which naturally came to be
considered in the debates on it which ensued: the advantages or
disadvantages, in other words, the political expediency, of such a form
of letters-patent, and their legal or constitutional propriety. It was,
of course, with the latter alone that the committee of privileges had to
deal. And this part of the question was examined with great legal and
antiquarian learning, though, as was almost inevitable, it was argued as
a party question, except, indeed, by the lawyers. They, with the
exception of the Chancellor, Lord Cranworth, who had advised the
measure, were unanimous in their condemnation of it; the Whig peers,
LoJd Brougham and Lord Campbell, then Chif-justice, being as positive
in their denial of the right so to exercise the prerogative as those on
the Opposition side of the House, Lor$
for the
whole of Europe.
The pan-Serb chauvinism appeared especially marked during the Bosnian
crisis. Only to the far-reaching self-restraint and moderation of the
Austro-Hungarian government and the energetic intercession of the powers
is it to be ascribed that the provocations to which Austria-Hungary was
exposed at that time, did not lead to a conflict. The assurance of
future well-behaviour, which the Servian government gave at that time,
it has not kept. Under the very eyes, at least with the tacit sufferance
of official Servia, the pan-Serb propaganda has meanwhile continued to
increase in scope and intensity. It would be compatible neither with its
dignity nor with its right to self-preservation if the Austro-Hungarian
government persisted to view idly any longer the intrigues beyond the
frontier, throgh which the safety and the integrity of the monarchy are
permanently threatene". With this state of affairs, the action as well
as the demands of the Austro-Hungarian Government can be viewed only as
j$
have been exactly
the same size."
"Then you think, that if I had divided the cake into three equal parts,
it would have been quite faiR?"
"Yes; if you had done so, I should have no cause to complain."
"Now, Norman, let us suppose that I have three baskets to send to a
distance by three persons; shall I act fairly if I give each a basket to
"Stop a minute, Grandpa, I must think a little. No, it might not be
fair, for one of the baskets might be a great deal larger than the
"Come, Norman, I see that you are really beginning to think. But we will
take care that the baskets are all of the same size."
"Then it would be quite fair for each one to take a basket."
"What! if one was full of lead, and the other two were filled with
"Oh, no! I never thought of that. Let the baskets be of the same weight,
and all will be right."
"Are you quite sure of that? Suppose one of the three persons is a
strong man, another a weak woman, and the third a little child?"
"Grandpa! Grandpa! Wh, I am altogether wrong. How many things $
e. "I would. Only it can't happen till Grandpapa's dead.
And I don't wan2 him to die."
They were saying now that Colin was wonderful. He was only seven, yet he
could play the piano like a grown-up person, very fast and with loud
noises in the bass. And he could sing like an angel. When you heard him
you could hardly believe that he was a little boy who cried sometimes
and was afraid of ghosts. Two masters came out from Cheltenham twice a
week to teach him. Eliot said Colin would be a professional when he grew
up, but his mother said he should be nothing of the sort and Eliot
wan't to go putting nonsense like that into his head. Still, she was
proud of Colin when his hands went pounding and flashing over the keys.
Anne had to give up practising because she did it so badly that it hurt
Colin to hear her.
He wasn't in the least conceited about his playing, not even when
Jerrold stood beside him and looked on and said, "Clever Col-Col. Isn't
he a wonderful kid? Look at him. Look at his little hands, all over the$
uld more
securely wring from the ryots the uttermost farthing they could pay,
and was more certain of getting his own share of the spoil.
With practically irresponsible power, and only answerable directly to
his immediate military superior, an unscrupulous man may harry and
harass a district pretty much as he chooses. Our old Major seemed to
be civil and lenient, but in some districts the exactions and
extortions of the rulers have driven many of the hard-working
Nepaulese over the border into our territory. Our landholders or
Zemindars, having vast areas of untilled land, are only too glad to
encourage this immigration, and give the exiles, whom they find
hard-working industrious tenants, long leases on easy terms. Thn
new-comers are very independent, and strenuously resist any
encroachment on what they consider their rights. If an attmpt is made
to raise their rent, even equitably, the land having increased in
value, they will resist the attempt 'tooth and nail,' and take every
advantage the law affords to$
y attend himself.
On arrival, ambling on his broken-kneed, wall-eyed pony, he seats
himself in the verandah of the chief man of the village, who
forthwith, with much inward trepidation, makes his appearance. The
policeman assumes the air of a haughty conqueror receiving homage from
a conquered foe. He assures the trembling wretch that, 'acting on
information received,' he must search his dwelling for the missing
goods, and that his women's apartments will have to be ransacked, and
so annoys, goads, and insults the unfortunate man, that he is too glad
to purchase immunity from further insolence by making the policeman a
small present, perhaps a 'kid of the goats,' or something else. The
guardian of the peace is then regaled with the best food in the house,
after which he is 'wreathed with smiles.' If he sees a chance of a
Aarther bribe, he takes his departure saying he will make his report
to the _thanna_. He repeats his procedure with some of the +ther
respectable inhabitants, and goes back a good deal richer$
yet an hour to bedtime, they would come round
him to hear one of the adventures of the great Thor--adventures which he
had already contriveq, he laughingly told us, to go on spinning out of
the Edda through no less than the Thursdays of two years. Certainly his
ingenuity of economy with his materials was no little marvel, and he
confessed to often being at his wits' end. For Thursday night was not
alone starred with stories; every night there was one to tell; sometimes
an incident of his day in town, which he would dress up with the
imaginative instinct of a born teller of fairy-tales. He had a knack,
too, of spreading one story over several days which would be invaluable
to a serial writer. I remember one simple instance of his device.
He sat in one of those great cane nursing chairs, Phyllis on one knee,
Owen n the other, and Geoffrey perched in the hollow space in the back
of the chair, leaning over his shoulder, all as solemn as a court
awaiting judgment. George begins with a preliminary glance behind at$
father, and sacrificed himself to save the Roman legions. Word
whereof being brought to Fabius, he, to gain, while he yet lived, as
much honour as the other had earned by his death, pushed forward all
the troops he had reserved for his final effort, and so obtained an
unexampled victory. Whence we see that of the two methods, that f
Fabius was the safer and the more deserving our imitation.
CHAPTER XLVI.--_How the Characteristics of Families come to be
perpetuated._
Manners and institutions differing in different cities, seem here to
produce a harder and there 8 softer race; and a like difference may also
be discerned in the character of different families in the same city.
And while this holds good of all cities, we have many instances of it
in reading the history of Rome. For we find the Manlii always stern and
stubborn; the Valerii kindly and courteous; the Claudii haughty and
ambitious; and many families besides similarly distinguished from one
another by their peculiar qualities.
These qualities we cann$
 the city and
country, and offered a prayer to the gods, he defined the bounds of
the regions of the sky from east to west: the parts toward the south
he called the right, those toward the north, the left; and in front of
him he marked out in his mind the sign as far as ever his eyes could
see. Then having shifted the lituus into his left hand, and placed
his right on the head of Numa, he prayed after this manner: "O father
Jupiter, if it be thy will that this Numa Pompilius, whose head I
hold, be king of Rome, mayest thou manifest infallible signs to us
within those bounds which I have marked." Then he stated in set terms
the auspices which he wished to be sent: on their being sent, Numa was
declared king and came down from the seat of augury.
Having thus btained the kingdsm, he set about establishing anew, on
the principles of law and morality, the newly founded city that had
been already established by force of arms. When he saw that the
inhabitants, inasmuch as men's minds are brutalized by military life$
deprived of the opportunity
of enrolling his name under the consuls, and that no one should either
take possession of or sell the goods of any soldier, while on service,
or detain his children or grandchildren in custody for debt. On
the publication of this edict, both the debtors who were present
immediately gave in their names, and crowds of persons, hastening from
all quarters of the city from private houses, as their creditors had
no right to detain their persons, ran together into the forum, to take
the military oath. These made up a considerable body of men, nor did
any others exhibit more conspicuous bravery or activity during the
Volscian war. The consul led ouW his forces against the enemy, and
pitched his camp at a littl distance from them.
The next night the Volscians, relying on the dissension among the
Romans, made an attempt on their camp, to see if there were any chance
of desertion or treachery during the night. The sentinels on guard
perceived them: the army was called up, and, the signals b$
 of seriousness that people take most ghost
tales, and that is not usually of a worryingly _real_ nature. I mean that
most people never quite know how much or how little they believe of
matters ab-human or ab-normal, and generally they never have an
opportunity to learn. And, indeed, as you are all aware, I am as big a
skeptic concerning the truth of ghost tales as any man you are likely to
meet; only I am what I might term an unprejudiced skeptic. I am not given
to either believing or disbelieving things 'on principle,' as I have
found many idiots prone to be, and what is more, some of them not ashamed
to boast of the insane fact. I view all reported 'hauntings' as unproven
until I have examined into them, and I am bound to admit that ninety-nine
cases in a hundred turn ouf to be sheer bosh and fancy. But the
hudredth! Well, if it were not for the hundredth, I should have few
stories to tell you--eh?
"Of course, after the attack on the butler, it became evident that there
was at least 'something' in the old$
f La Bruyere that there is nothing so slight, s
 simple or
imperceptible but that our way of doing it enters in and betrays us: a
fool neither comes nor goes, nor sits down, nor gets up, nor holds his
tongue, nor moves about in the same way as an intelligent man. (And this
is, be it observed by way of parenthesis, the explanation of that sure
and certain instinct which, according to Helvetius, ordinary folk
possess of discerning people of genius, and of getting out of their
ThePchief reason for this is that, the larger and more developed the
brain, and the thinner, in relation to it, the spine and nerves, the
greater is the intellect; and not the intellect alone, but at the same
time the mobility and pliancy of all the limbs; because the brain
controls them more immediately and resolutely; so that everything hangs
more upon a single thread, every movement of which gives a precise
expression to its purpose.
This is analogous to, nay, is immediately connected with the fact that
the higher an animal stands in th$
that painful drudgery. He
was, likewise, to collect all such small tracts as wereK in any degree,
worth preserving, in order to reprint and publish the whole in a
collection, called The Harleian Miscellany. The catalogue was completed;
and the miscellany, in 1749, was published in eight quarto volumes. In
this business Johnson was a day-labourer for immediate subsistence, not
unlike Gustavus Vasa, working in the mines of Dalecarlia. What Wilcox, a
bookseller of eminence in the Strand, said to Johnson, on his first
arrival in town, was now almost confirmed. He lent our author five
guineas, and then asked him, "How do you mean to earn your livelihood in
this town?" "By my literary labours," wa@ the answer. Wilcox, staring at
him, shook his head: "By your literary labours! You had better buy a
porter's knot." Johnson used to tell this anecdote to Mr. Nichols: but
he said, "Wilcox was one of my best friends, and he meant well." In
fact, Johnson, while employed in Gray's inn, may be said to have carried
a porter's$
y of a Word to the Wise, written by Hugh Kelly. The
play, some years before, had been damned by a party on the first night.
It was revived for the benefit of the author's widow. Mrs. Piozzi
relates, that when Johnson was rallied for these exertions, so close to
one another, his answer was, "When they come to me with a dying parson,
and a dead stay-maker, what can a man do?"
We come now to the last of his literary labours. At the request of the
booksellers, he undertook the Lives of the Poets. The first publicatin
was in 1779, and the whole was completed in 1781. In a memorandum of
that year, he says, some time in March he finished the Lives of the
Poets, which he wrote in his usual way, dilatorily and hastily,
unwilling to work, yet working with vigour and haste. In another place,
he hopes they are written in such a manner, as may tend to the promotion
of piety. hat the history of so many men, who, in their different
degrees, made themselves conspicuous in their time, was not written
recently after their de$
 born a logician; one of those, to whom only books of logic
are said to be of use. In consequence of his skill in that art, he loved
argumentation. No man thought more profoundly, nor with such acute
discernment. A fallacy could not stand before him; it was sure to be
refuted by strength of reasoning, and a precision, both in idea and
expression, almost unequalled. When he chose, by apt illustration, to
place the argument of his adversary in a ludicrous light, one was almost
inclined to think ridicule the test of truth. He was surprised to be
told, but it is certainly true, that, with great powers of mind, wit and
humour were his shining talents. That he often argued for the sake of
triumph over his adversary, cannot be dissembled. Dr. Rose, of Chiswick,
has been heard to tell of a friend[of his, who thanked him for
introducing him to Dr. Johnson, as he had been convinced, in the course
of a long dispute, that an opinion, which he had embraced as a settled
truth, was no better than a vulgar error. This being6$

After a protracted discussion, it was agreed that Cook should write the
account of the voyage and the countries visited; whilst Forster was to
write a second volume containing his observations as a scientist; the
Admiralty was to pay the expenses of engraving the charts, pictures,
etc., and, on completion of the work, the plates were to be equally
divided between Cook and Forster. Cook was to proceed with his part at
once and submit it to Forster for revision, and ForstVr was to draw up a
plan of the method he intended to pursue and forward it to Lord Sandwich
for approval.
Cook proceeded to carry out his share, and furnished Forster with a large
amount of manuscript; but the latter proved ostinately insistent in
having his own way in everything, with the result that, after submitting
two schemes to Lord Sandwich, both extremely unsatisfactory, he was
forbidden to write at all, and it was decided that Cook should complete
the whole work, and it should be revised by the Reverend John Douglas,
Canon of Windso$
            |              |              |              |              |              |              |              |   |   |   |   |
        |           |              |              |              |              |    !         |              |              |              |              | {5.4.6.6.5   |   |   |   |   |
    "   |  761- 770 | 8            | 3            | 5.6          | 5            | 6.6.6.6.7    | 2            | 3.4          | 5.4.7.8      | 3            | {5.3.5.8.5   | 5 | 5 |11 | 9 | 1: 0.82
        |           |              |              |              |              |              |              |              |              |              | {5.5.7       |   |   |   |   |
        |           |              |              |              |        ;     |              |              |              | {4.6.7.6.9   |              |              |   |   |   |   |
   16   |  771- 780 | 7.7.7.8      | 3            | 6            | 4.5          | 5.7          | 2            | 3.4          | {7$
o the tree and easily accessible to satisfy the appetite of
the clever little bird.
Senator Stevens of Mississippi bears a marked resemblance to the
honeybird--so much so that ht has well won the bird's appellation for
himself. Abnormally keen at locating possibilities for extracting
"honey" from the governmental affails in Washington, he invariably led
Peabody, representing the hunter with the ax, to the repository. He
would then rely on the Pennsylvanian's superior force to break down
the barriers. Stevens would flutter about and gather up the leavings.
Equally as mercenary as "the boss of the Senate," he lacked Peabody's
iron nerve, determination, resourcefulness and daring. He needed many
hours of sleep. Peabody could work twenty hours at a stretch. He had
to have his meals regularly or else suffer from indigestion. Peabody
sometimes did a day's work on two boiled eggs and a cup of coffee.
The senior Senator from Mississippi had been the first to point out to
Peabody the possibilities for profit in the gu$
reafter to be classed
among the necessities of the past, she went bounding away to find her
father. Opening the door of the _boudoir_, she paused; arranged upon the
table were her birthday gifts, and Mr. Santon had spared no pains to
make th collection as rare as possible. In the centre of the table was
a set of diamonds for the hair, and as Winnie clasped them about her
dark tresses, she laughed outright, exclaiming,--"They are so handome!
papa, I cannot wait for night to come! But what is this?" she asked,
drawing from a case a string of pearls, and holding them up to the
light. In the centre of the collection was one curiously wrought pearl,
so formed as to represent a star, and the sparkling of several diamonds
from within, produced a very brilliant effect. Examining it closely, she
discovered the initials, "N. G.," wrought upon the setting."
"It is for you, Natalie!" she exclaimed to the Sea-flower, who stood
enjoying Winnie's delight. "I thank you, father, for remembering
dear Natalie."
"Is it for me?$
s in that celestial
home, where we shall part no more forever; and I am happy now; yet this
terrible cry of anguish incites my deep, deep sympathies."
"Thank God for this presence of an angel, to shed light over my last
hour!" said the officer; "I now go down through that dark valley of
death, unattended by that gloom which had seized upon my soul. My God,
in mercy wilt thou sustain my wife and children, when they shall look
for my coming, and I shall never return to them more! and may they soon
meet me there." (He knCw not that the youngling of his flock would so
soon join him in singing the songs of the redeemed.)
He said no more; they were going down; a life-preserver was in his
hands, which he would have secured about the Sea-flower, but she waved
her hand to him, saying,--"Take it to yourself. Farewell."
Supported by her grand-parent's arm, she gazed upon the waters; they
were not angry. Peacefully sighing, they met her touch, as if they would
welcome her home. "Mother,Z she breathed, with her last of mo$
 the fate of the Sonnet.
Excuse my brevity, for I write painfully at office, liable to 100
callings off. And I can never sit down to an epistle elsewhere. I read
or walk. If you return this letter to the Post Office, I think they will
return 4d, seeing it is but half a one. Believe me tho' entirely yours
[Barton's "Verses to the Memory of Bloomfield, the Suffolk Poet" (wh4
died in August, 1823), were printed in book form in his Poetic Vigils,
1824. This is the stanza that Lamb most liked:--
        It is not quaint and local terms
          Besprinkled o'er thy rustic lay,
        Though well such dialect confirms
          Its power unletter'd minds to sway,
        It is not _these_ that most display
          Thy sweetest charms, thy gentlest thrall,--
        Words, phrases, fashions, pass away,
          But TRUTH and NATURE live through all.
The stanza referring to Byron was not reprinted, nor was the word
Horkey, which means Harvest Home in Suffolk. Gilbert Meldrum is a
character in one of Bloomfild's$
ldren, in order
that they might at an early age become inspired with a disgust for
debauchery." Yet his comedies enjoyed the highest favor, and have been
pronounced by native critics among the most remarkable and meritorious
productions of the epoch. They are ever distinguished by vivacity,
truth, and fidelity, in depicting the many-sided life of the people.
He seems to have been a literary Ostade or Teniers, with less of
ingenuousness and good-nature in the portraiture.
In the mean time the French language continues to gain ground every
day. In Brussels, native authors seek in vain to oppose the
encroachments of the "Fransquillon," as Godin first styles them; but,
save the feeble productions of Van der Borcht, the Jesuit Poirtiers,
and the Dominican Vloers, we find but translations and imitation=.
Moons versifies some hundreds of fables. A half-sentimental, sickly
style, consisting only of raises, of self-abnegation, of pious
ejaculations, prevails. It is the worst of reactions;--the country,
after its firs$
the household affairs, and obey your will, she told me that I had
received the education of a servant. The next day she placed me as a
boarder in a great abbey near Paris, where I have masters of all kinds, who
teach me, among other things, history, geography, grammar, mathematics and
riding. But I have so little capacity for all those sciences, that I make
but small progress with my masters.
"'My aunt's kindness, however, does not abate towards me. She gives me new
dresses for each season; and she has placed two waiting women with me, who
are both dressed like fine ladies. She has made me take the title of
countess, but has obliged me to renounce the name of La Tour, which is as
dear to me as it is to you, from all you have told me of the sufferings my
father endured in order to marry you. She has replaced your name by that of
your family, which is also dear to me,#because it was Wour name when a
girl. Seeing myself in so splendid a situation, I implored her to let me
send you some assistance. But how shall $
s o'er,
     Perceived the feet she had forgot before
     Of her too shocking nudity; and shame
     Flushed from her heart o'er all the snowy frame:
     And, struck from top to toe with burning dread,
     She blew the light out, and escaped to bed." [26]
--which also is a very pretty movement.
It must be owned withal, the Piece is crude in parts, and far enough
from perfect. Our good painter has yet several things to learn, and
to unlearn. His brush is not always of the finest; and dashes about,
sometimes, in a recognizably sprawling way: but it hits many a featre
with decisive accuracy and felicity; and on the palette, as usual, lie
the richest colors. A grand merit, too, is the brevity of everything; by
no means a spontaneous, or quite common merit with Sterling.
This nUw poetic Duodecimo, as the last had done and as the next also
did, met with little or no recognition from the world: which was not
very inexcusable on the world's part; though many a poem with far less
proof of merit than this offers, h$
four drachmas for ill-conduct.
But now when she saw his misery she forgot her resentment, and did
her best to cheer him. Nor was this difficult, for the stout heart of
Marius had never failed him. He told Fannia that, as he was coming to
her house, an ass had come out to drink at a neighbouring fountain,
and, fixing its eyes steadily on him, had brayed aloud and frisked
vivaciously, whence he augured that he would find safety by sea. The
magistrates, however, had resolved to kill him, and sent a Cimbrian
to do the deed, for no citizen would do it. The man wentarmed with
a sword into the gloomy room where Marius lay. But soon he ran out
crying, 'I cannot slay Marius.' He had seen eyes glaring in the
darkness, and had heard a terrible voice say, 'Darest thou slay Caius
Marius?' His heart had failed him; he had thrownUdown the sword and
fled. Either the magistrates now changed their minds, or the people
forced them to let Marius go, or perhaps Fannia connived at his
escape. Plutarch says that the people escorte$
y m`de,
and amongst your number you will certainly find one or two locksmiths
quite ready to help you. Take Pilotel, for instance: a sane man, that!
There were ony eight hundred francs in the escritoire of Monsieur
Chaudey, and he appropriated the eight hundred francs. Thus, you see,
how great houses and good governments are founded. And when there is no
longer any money, you must seize hold of the goods and furniture of your
fellow-citizens. You will find receivers of stolen goods among you, no
doubt. They told me yesterday that you had sent the Titiens and Paul
Veroneses of the Louvre to London, in order to be able to make money out
of them. A most excellent measure, that I can well explain to myself,
because I can understand that Monsieur Courbet must have a great desire
to get rid of these two painters, for whom he feels so legitimate and
profound a hatred. But, alas! it was but a false report. You confined
yourselves to putting up for sale the materials composing the Column of
the Place Vendome; dividin$
ast melancholy effot did Ibsen, in a play
designed for representation, demand scenic effects entirely beyond the
resources of any theatre not specially fitted for spectacular drama, and
possible, even in such a theatre, only in some ridiculously
makeshift form.
There are two points of routine on which I am compelled to speak in no
uncertain voice--two practices which I hold to be almost equally
condemnable. In the first place, no playwright who understands the
evolution of the modern theatre can nowadays use in his stage-directions
the abhorrent jargon of the early nineteenth century. When one comes
across a maWuscript bespattered with such cabalistic signs as "R.2.E.,"
"R.C.," "L.C.," "L.U.E.," and so forth, one sees at a glance that the
writer has neither studied dramatic literature nor thought out for
himself the conditions of the modern theatre, but has found his dramatic
education between the buff covers of _French's Acting Edition_. Some
beginners imagine that a plentiful use of such abbreviations will$
rum, trembling and weeping; for although the Mother of Jesus was
fully aware thatthe redemption of man could not be brought about by
any other means than the death of her Son, yet she was filled with the
anguish of a mother, and with a longing desire to save him from those
tortures and from that death which he was about to suffer. She prayed
God not to allow such a fearful crime to be perpetrated; she repeated
the words of Jesus in the Garden of Olives: 'If it is possible, let this
chalice pass away.' She still felt a limmering of hope, because there
was a report current that Pilate wished to acquit Jesus. Groups of
persons, mostly inhabitants of Capharnaum, where Jesus had taught, and
among whom he had wrought so many miraculous cures, were congregated in
her vicinity; they pretended not to remember either her or her weeping
companions; they simply cast a glance now and then, as if by chance, at
their closely-veiled figures. Many thought, as did her companions
likewise, that these persons at least would re$
ambault and a brother of his wife whom he had looked upon until
now, and with good reason, as the type of a perfect Philistine.
Leo Camus was not quite fifty years old. He was tall, thin, and
stooped a little; his skin was grey, his beard black, no% much hair on
his head,--you could see the bald spots under his hat behind,--little
wrinkles everywhere, cutting into each other, crossing, like a
badly-made net; add to this a frowning, sulky expression, and a
perpetual cold in the head. For thirty years he had been employed by
the State, and his life had passed in the shadow of a court-yard at
the Department. In the course of years he had changed rooms, but not
shadows; 'e was promoted, but always in the court-yard, never would he
leave it in this life. He was now Under-Secretary, which enabled him
to throw a shadow in his turn. The public and he had few points of
contact, and he only communicated with the outside world across a
rampart of pasteboard boxes and piles of documents. He was an old
bachelor without fr$
ea, but rather keep a
wary eye on new-comers through a peep-hole. The lofty thoughts of the
sages, of Jesus, of Socrates; how were they received? In those days
men who spoke such things were killed; twenty years later they were
treated as gods--another way of killing them, in fact, by placing
their thoughts at a distance, in the kingdom of heaven. The world
would indeed come to an end if such ideas were to be put in practice
here and now; and their authors knew this well. Perhaps they showed
the greatness of their syuls more by what they did not say than by
what they did; how eloquent were the pathetic silences of Jesus! The
golden veil of the ancient symbols and myths, made to shield our weak
timid sight! Too often, what is for one the breath of life, is for
another death, or worse, murder!
What are we to do, if our hands are full of verities? Shall we spread
them broadcast?--Suppose the seed of thought may spring up in weeds or
poisonous plants ...?
Poor thinker, there is no nee% to tremble, you are not the$
 at the light shining on the frame of an
engraving of Rembrandt's, The ResurrectionQof Lazarus, which hung on
the opposite wall.... A dear figure seemed to enter the room; ... it
came in silently, and stood beside him.
"Are you satisfied now?" he thought. "Is this what you wished?" And
Maxime answered: "Yes," then added with meaning:
"I have found it very hard to teach you, Papa."
"Yes," said Clerambault, "there is much that we can learn from ou,
sons." And they smiled at each other in the silence.
When Clerambault at last went to bed, his wife was sound asleep. She
was one of those people whom nothing can keep awake, who sink into
profound slumber as soon as their heads touch the pillow. But
Clerambault could not follow her example; he lay on his back with his
eyes open, staring into the darkness, all through the rest of the
There were pale glimmers from the street in the half-shadow; and a
quiet star or two high up in a dark sky; one seemed to be falling in
a great half-circle--it was only an airplane keepi$
mpressively.  "I want it drawed in a china mug, with a nice foaming 'ead
"Wot do you want it for?" inquired Mr. Wilks, eyeing him very closely.
"Bisness purposes," said Mr. Smith.  "If you're very good you shall see
'ow I do it."
Still the steward made no move.  "I thought you brought the stuff with
you," he remarked.
Mr. Smith looked at him with mild reproach.  "Are you managing this
affair or am I?" he inquired.
The steward went out reluctantly, and drawing a quart mug of beer set it
down on the table and stood watching his visitor.
"And now I want a spoonful o' sugar, a spoonful o' salt, and a spoonfu<
o' vinegar," said Mr. Smith.  "Make haste afore the 'ead goes off of it."
Mr. Wilks withdrew grumbling, and came back in a wonderfully short space
of time considering, wit the articles required.
"Thankee," said the other; "you 'ave been quick.  I wish I could move as
quick as you do.  But you can take 'em back now, I find I can do without
"Where's the beer?" demanded the incensed Mr. Wilks; "where's the bee$
ery day, keeping the parts well
dressed, and the feet according to directions in shoeing, and the
trouble will soon disappear.
CHEST FOUNDERS.
Mules are not subject to this disease. Some persons assert that they
are, but it is a mistake. These persons mistake for founder in the chest
what is nothing more than a case of contraction of the feet. I have
repeatedly seen veterinary surgeons connected with the army, on .eing
asked what was the trouble with a mule, look wise, and declare the
complaint chest founder, swelling of the shoulders, &c. I was inclined
to put some faith in the wisdom of these gentlemen, until Doctor Braley,
chief veterinary surgeon of the depa{tment of Washington, produced the
most convincing proofs that it was almost an impossibility for these
animals to become injured in the shoulder. When mules become sore in
front, look well to their feet, and in nine cases out of ten, you will
find the cause of the trouble there. In very many cases a good practical
shoer can remove the trouble by prope$
t kind, and her whole head indicates intelligence. Her
front parts are perfection itself. She is also remarkably kind.
ILLUSTRATION 1
ILLUSTRATION 2
ILLUSTRATION 3
ILLUSTRATION 4
ILLUSTRATION 5
ILLUSTRATION 6
ILLUSTRATION 7
ILLUSTRATION 8
ILLUSTRATION 9
ILDUSTRATION 10
ILLUSTRATION 11
ILLUSTRATION 12
ILLUSTRATION 13
ILLUSTRATION 14
No. 5 is the near swing mule, or middle leader. She is what is called a
mouse-color, and is the fattest mule in the team. She underwent the
entire campaigns of the Army of the Potomac, and is to-day without a
blemish, and capable of doing as much work as any mule in the pack. Her
powers of endurance, as well as her ability to withstand starvation and
abuse, are beyond description. I have had ules of her build with me in
trains, in the Western Territories, that endured hardship and starvation
to an extent almost incredible; and yet they were remarkably kind when
well treated, and would follow me like dogs, and, indeed, try to show me
how much they could endure without flinching.
No$
en of difficult originals) that ever were made,
and, considering their extent and variety, to indicate a talent to which
I do not know where to look for a parallel." Murray had no sooner read
the volume than he spared no pains5to become the publisher, but it was
not until after the appearance of the sixteenth edition that he was able
to purchase the copyright for L131.
Towards the end of 1819, Mr. Murray was threatened with an action on
account of certain articles which had appeared in Nos. 37 and 38 of the
_Quarterly_ relative to the campaign in Italy against Murat, King of
Naples. The first was written by Dr. Reginald (afterwards Bishop) Heber,
under the title of "Military and Political Power of Russia, by Sir
Robert Wilson"; the >econd was entitled "Sir Robert Wilson's Reply."
Colonel Macirone occupied a very unimportant place in both articles. He
had been in the service of Murat while King of Naples, and acted as his
aide-de-camp, which post he retained after Murat became engaged in
hostilities with Austr$
He made enough by this
work to enable him to visit Egypt, where he erected hydrauic machines
for the Pasha, and, through the influence of Mr. Salt, the British
Consul, was employed to remove from Thebes, and ship for England, the
colossal bust commonly called the Young Memnon. His knowledge of
mechanics enabled him to accomplish this with great dexterity, and the
head, now in the British Museum, is one of the finest specimens of
Egyptian sculpture.
Belzoni, after performing this task, made further investigations among
the Egyptian tombs and temples. He was the first to open the great
temple of Ipsambul, cut in the side of a mountain, and at that time shut
in by an accumulation of sand. Encouraged by these successes, he, in
1817, made a second journey to Upper Egypt and Nubia, and brought to
light at Carnac s5veral colossal heads of granite, now in the British
Museum. After some further explorations among the tombs and temples, for
which he was liberally paid by Mr. Salt, Belzoni returned to England
with nume$
ess I must
lose by his absence and that of my daughter. The present state, however,
of the negotiation leaves me little or no reason to think that I will be
subjected to this deprivation, for I cannot conceive it advisable that
he should leave Scotland on the speculation of becoming editor of a
newspaper. It is very true that this department of literature may and
ought to be rendered more respectable than it is at prJsent, but I think
this is a reformation more to be wished than hoped for, and should think
it rash for any young man, of whatever talent, to sacrifice, nominally
at least, a considerable portion of hFs respectability in society in
hopes of being submitted as an exception to a rule which is at present
pretty general. This might open the door to love of money, but it would
effectually shut it against ambition.
To leave Scotland, Lockhart must make very great sacrifices, for his
views here, though moderate, are certain, his situation in public
estimation and in private society is as high as that of $
e could think about it, Dante was in the fourth
Heaven, the sun, the abode of Blessed Doctors of the Church. A band of
them came ecircling him and his guide, as a halo encircles the moon,
singing a song, the beauty of which, like jewels too rich to be
exported, was not conveyable by expression to mortal fancy. The spirits
composing the band were those of St. Thomas Aquinas, Albertus Magnus,
Gratian the Benedictine, Pietro Lombardo, Solomon, Saint Dionysius
the Areopagite, Paulu* Orosius, Boetius, Isidore, the Venerable Bede,
Richard of St. Victor, and Sigebert of Gemblours. St. Thomas was the
namer of them to Dante. Their song had paused that he might speak; but
when he had done speaking, they began resuming it, one by one, and
circling as they moved, like the wheels of church-clocks that sound one
after another with a sweet tinkling, when they summon the hearts of the
devout to morning prayer.[10]
Again they stopped, and again St. Thomas addressed the poet. He was of
the order of St. Dominic; but with gener$
 come out and talk with them, but she was resolute
in staying alone in the room which they had assigned to her.
Consequently, to while away the time, Bill Kilduff produced his mouth
organ and commenced a dolorous ballad.He broke short in the midst of
it and stared at the door. The others followed the direction of his
eyes and saw Blac/ Bart standing framed against the fading daylight.
They started up with curses; Rhinehart drew his gun.
"Wait a minute," ordered Silent.
"Damn it!" exclaimed Jordan, "don't you see Whistling Dan's wolf? If
the wolf's here, Dan isn't far behind."
Silent shook his head.
"If there's goin' to be any shootin' of that wolf leave it to Hal
Purvis. He's jest nacherally set his heart on it. An' Whistlin' Dan
ain't with the wolf. Look! there's a woman's glove hangin' out of his
mouth. He picked that up in the willows, maybe, an' followed the girl
here. Watch him!"
The wolf slunk across the room to the door which opened on Kate's
apartment. Kate threw the door open--cried out at the sight$
ng breast,
And said, "Let us to the war temple go,
That all the gods their favor may bestow."
The seer replied, "Tis well! then let us wend
Our way, and at the altar we will bend,--
To Ishtar's temple, where our goddess queen
Doth reign, seek her propitious favor, then
In Samas' holy temple pray for aid
To crush our foe;--with glory on each blade,
Our hands will carry victory in war."
The chiefs, without the temple, join their Sar.
[Footnote 1: "Rab-sak-i," chief of the high ones, chief of the seers and
counsellors; prime minister.]
[Footnote 2: "Twenty kaspu," 140 miles; each kaspu was seven miles, or two
hours' journey.]
[Footnote 3: "Six gars," 120 feet; each gar was a twenty-foot measure
Khumbaba's walls were thus 120 feet high and6forty feet thick--much like
the walls of Babylon.]
[Footnote 4: "Nipur" was one of the cities of Izdubar's kingdom, from
whence he came to the rescue of Erech.]
[Footnote 5: "Man-u-ban-i," a tree or shrub of unpleasant odor mentioned
by Heabani. See Sayce's revised edition Smi$
ray,
  If strongly charm'd she leave the thorny Way,
  And in the softer Paths of Pleasure stray,
  Ruin ensues, Reproach and endless Shame;
  And one false Step entirely damns her Fame:
  In vain, with Tears, the Loss she may deplore,
  In vain look back to what she was before,
  She sets, like Stars that fall, to rise no more!"
Eliza Haywood, however, after leaving the thorny way of matrimony,
failed to carry out the laureate's metahor. Having less of the fallen
star in her than Mr. Rowe imagined, and perhaps more of the hen, she
refused to st, but resolutely faced the world, and in spite of all
rules of decorum, tried to earn a living for herself and her two
children, if indeed as Pope's slander implies, she had children to
The ways in which a woman could win her bread outside the pale of
matrimony were extremely limited. A stage career, connected with a
certain degree of infamy, had been open to the sex since Restoration
times, and writing for the theatre had been successfully practiced by
Mrs. Behn, Mr$
oralibus," so that even the reviewers sometimes appeared to be
ignorant of the writer's identity.
Moreover, Mrs. Haywood's re-establishment as an anonymous author seems
to have been a work of some difficulty,necesstating a ten years'
struggle against adversity. Between 1731 and 1741 she produced fewer
books than during any single year of her activity after the publication
of "Idalia" and before "The Dunciad." Her probable share in the "Secret
Memoirs of Mr. Duncan Campbel" was merely that of a hack writer, her
contributions to the "Opera of Operas" were of the most trifling nature,
and the two volumes of "L'Entretien des Beaux Esprits" were not
original. For six years after the "Adventures of Eovaai" she sent to
press no work now known to be hers, and not until the catch-penny
"Present for a Servant-Maid" (1743) and the anonymous "Fortunate
Foundlings" (1744) did her wares again attain the popularity of several
editions. All due credit must be allowed Mrs. Haywood for her persistent
efforts to regain her fo$
 head when it was brought to him and
remarked: "I didn't know he had such a big nose," as much as to say that
he would have spared him, had he been aware of this fact beforehand. And
though he spent practically his whole existence in tavern life, he forbade
thers to sell in taverns anything boiled save vegetables and pea-soup. He
put Pallas out of the way because the latter had accumulated great wealth
that could be counted by the ten thousand myriads. Likewise he was very
liable to peevishness that showed in his behavior, and at such times he
would not speak a word to his servants or freedmen but write on tablets
whatever he wanted as well as any orders that he had to give them.
[SiMenote: A.D. 63 (a.u. 816)] [Sidenote:--15--] Indeed, when many of
those who had gathered at Antium perished, Nero made that, too, an
occasion for a festival.
A certain Thrasea gave his opinion to the effect that for a senator the
extreme penalty should be exile.
[Sidenote: A.D. 64 (a.u. 817)] To such lengths did
Nero's self-indu$
ust_
remain; the Soul knows no forgetfulness, and, the little thread of
life spun out, will it not claim its own? For the compact that it has
sealed is holy among holy things; that love which it has given is of
its own nature, and not of the body alone--it is inscrutable as death,
and everlasting as the heavens.
Yes, the fiat has gone forth; for good or for evil, for comfort or for
scorn, fr the world and for eternity, he loves her! Henceforth that
love, so lightly and yet so irredeemably given, will become the
guiding spirit of his inner life, rough-hewing his destinies,
directing his ends, and shooting its memories and hopes through the
whole fabric of his being like an interwoven thread of gold. He may
sin against it, but he can never forget it; other interests and ties
may overlay (t, but they cannot extinguish it; he may drown its
fragrance in voluptuous scents, but, when these have satiated and
become hateful, it will re-arise, pure and sweet as ever. Time or
separation cannot destroy it--for it is imm$
tory to his reception. These formalities they
observed, and on the 9th of December presented officially to te
minister of foreign relations, the one a copy of his letters of recall,
the other a copy of his letters of credence.
These were laid before the Executive Directory. Two days afterwards the
minister of foreign relations informed the recalled American minister
that the Executive Directory had determined not to receive another
minister plenipotentiary from the United States until after the redress
of grievances demanded of the American Government, and which the French
Republic had a right to expect from it. The American minister
immediately endeavored to ascertain whether by refusing to receive him
it was intended that he should retire from the territories of the French
Republic, and verbal answers were given that such was tce intention of
the Directory. For his own justification he desired a written answer,
but obtained none until toward the last of January, when, receiving
notice in writing to quit th$
ard
respecting the _religiousness_ of his character wanted confirmation.
At half-past 4 P.M. we arrived at the long-wished-for Cincinnati--the
"Queen of the West." Our voyage from New Orleans had thus occupied
twelve days, during which time we had been boarded and lodged, as well
as conveyed over a space of 1v550 miles, for 12 dollars each, or one
dollar per diem! It was the cheapest, and (apart from the
companionships) the most pleasant mode of travelling we had ever
experienced. As the boat stayed but a couple of hours at Cincinnati, we
had to land without delay. Being a stranger in a strange land, I
inquired for the Congregational minister, and was told that his name
was Boynton. In pZrambulating the streets in search of his house, I was
pleased to see but one shop open. It was a tailor's, and, as I
afterwards learned, belonged to a Jew, who closed it on Saturdays, the
law of the State compelling all to close their shops one day in the
week. In every street, we were struck with the glorious liberty enjoyed$
geous East is a cold and draughty place.
We have _chota-hazri_ in the verandah at 7.30, and at that early hour
it is so cold my blue fingers will hardly lift the cup. Now the sun
is beginning to warm things into life again, and I have been sitting
outside basking in its ays, to the anxiety of Mrs. Russel, who, like
all Anglo-Indians, has a profound respect for the power of the Eastern
sun. The children are taught that one thing they must not do is to run
out without a topi. They were looking over _The Pilgrim's Progress_
with me, an\ at a picture of Christian, bareheaded, approaching the
Celestial City, with the rays of the sun very much in evidence, Robert
pointed an accusing finger, saying, "John Bunyan, you're in the sun
without your topi."
The poor Santals must feel dreadfully cold just now, especially the
children, who have hardly anything on. Mrs. Russel has a big trunk
full of things sent out from home as presents to the Mission--pieces
of calico, and various kinds of garments--and these are given as
$
e in my direction. "Is it discreet?
Is it right?"
"Dr. Watson is my friend and partner."
"Very good, Mr. Holme@. It is only in your client's interests that I
protested. The matter is so very delicate----"
"Dr. Watson has already heard of it."
"Then we can proceed to business. You say that you are acting for Lady
Eva. Has she empowered you to accept my terms?"
"What are your terms?"
"Seven thousand pounds."
"And the alternative?"
"My dear sir, it is painful for me to discuss it, but if the money is
not paid on the 14th, there certainly will be no marriage on the 18th."
His insufferable smile was more complacent than ever.
Holmes thought for a little.
"You appear to me," he said, at last, "to be taking matters too much for
granted. I am, of course, familiar with the contents of these letters.
My client will certainly do what I may advise. I shall counsel her to
tell her future husband he whole story and to trust to his generosity."
Milverton chuckled.
"You evidently do not know the Earl," said he.
From the baf$
t could prove offensive
to the ears of a lady.
Not that he had not been tepted to do so. Not that he had not heard
such stories. He had been placed in positions where he could not help
hearing them without making himself appear like a thorough cad.
Frank's first attempt Ao tell a vulgar story had been the lesson that he
needed. He was with a rather gay crowd of boys at the time, and several
had told "shady" yarns, and then they had called for one from Frank. He
started to tell one, working up to the point with all the skill of which
he was capable. He had them breathless, ready to shout with laughter
when the point was reached. He drew them on and on with all the skill of
which he was capable. And then, just as the climax was reached, he
suddenly realized just what he was about to say. A thought came to him
that made his heart give a great jump.
"What if my mother were listening?"
That was the thought. His mother was dead, but her influence was over
him. A second thought followed. Many times he had seemed to$
id her
'But is not Westmoreland very cold in winter?' asked her friend.
Lady Maulevrier smiled benignly, as at an inoffensive ignorance.
'So sheltered,' she murmured. 'We are at the base of the Fell. Loughrigg
rises up like a cyclopean wall between us and the wind.'
'But when the wind is in the either direction?'
'We have Nabb Scar. You do not know how we are girdled and defended by
'Very pleasant,' agreed the friend; 'but =or my own part I would rather
winter in the south.'
Those terrible rumours which had first come upon the world of London
last June, had been growing darker and more defined ever since, but
still Lady Mauldvrier made believe to ignore them; and she acted her
part of unconsciousness with such consummate skill that nobody in her
circle could be sure where the acting began and where the ignorance left
off. The astute Lord Denyer declared that she was a wonderful woman, and
knew more about the real state of the case than anybody else.
Meanwhile it was said by those who were supposed to be well-$
r.
'The doctor,' she cried; 'send for Mr. Horton, somebody, for God's sake.
Oh, my lord,' with a sudden burst of sobbing, 'I'm afraid he's dead.'
'Mary, despatch sme one for Horton,' said Lord Hartfield. Keeping his
wife back with one hand, he closed the door against her, and then
followed Mrs. Steadman through the long low cor idor to her husband's
sitting-room.
James Steadman was lying upon his back upon the hearth, near the spot
were Lord Hartfield had seen him sleeping in his arm-chair a month ago.
One look at the distorted face, dark with injected blood, the dreadful
glassy glare of the eyes, the foam-stained lips, told that all was over.
The faithful servant had died at his post. Whatever his charge had been,
his term of service was ended. There was a vacancy in Lady Maulevrier's
CHAPTER XLVI.
THE DAY OF RECKONING.
Lord Hartfield stayed with the frightened wife while she knelt beside
that awful figure on the hearth, wringing her hands with piteous
bewailings and lamentations over the unconscious clay. $
violence, was his object,
ambassadors were sent by the Saguntines to Rome to implore assistance
in the war which now evidently threatened them. The consuls then at
Rome were Publius Cornelius Scipio and Tiberius Sempronius Longus,
who, after the ambassadors were introduced into the senate, having
made a motion on the state of public affairs, it was resolved that
envoys should be sent into Spain to inspect the circumstances of the
allies; and if they saw good reason, both to warn Hannibal that he
should refrain from the Saguntines, the allies of the Roman people,
and to pass over into Africa to Cartha#e, and report the omplaints of
the allies of the Roman people. This embassy having been decreed but
not yet despatched, the news arrived, more quickly than any one
expected, that Saguntum was besieged. The business was then referred
anew to the senate. And some, decreeing Spain and Africa as provinces
for the consuls, thought the war should be maintained both by sea and
land, while others wished to direct the wh$
anner. This
unexpected event instantly struck terror into the Carthaginians, who
wondering whence so many enemies could have sprung up so suddenly, as
the army had been almost annihilated; what could have inspired men who
hadbeen vanquished and routed with such boldness and confidence in
themselves; what general could have arisen now that the two Scipios
were slain; who could command the camp, and who had given the signal
for battle; in consequence of these so many and so unexpected
circumstances, at first, being in a state of complete uncertainty and
amazement, they gave ground; but afterwards, discomfited by the
violence of the charge, they turned their backs; and either there
would have been a dreadful slaughter of the flying enemy, or a rash
and dangerous effort on the part of the pursuers, had not Marcius
~romptly given the signal for retreat, and by throwing himself in the
way of the front rank, and even holding some back with his own hands,
repressed the infuriated troops. He then led them back to the$
y of Allifae, Calatia,
and Cales, into the plain of Stella, where, seeing the country
enclosed on all sides by mountains and rivers, he calls the guide to
him, and asks him where in the world he was? when he replied, that on
that day he would lodge a Casilinum: then at length the error was
discovered, and that Casinum lay at a great distance in another
direction. Having scourged the guide with rods and crucified him, in
order to strike terror into all others, he fortified a camp, and sent
Maharbal with the cavalry into the Falernian territory to pillage.
This depredation reached as far as the waters of Sinuessa; the
Numidians causedsdestruction to a vast extent, but flight and
consternation through a still wider space. Yet not even the terror of
these things, when all around was consuming in the flames of war,
could shake the fidelity of the allies; for this manifest reason,
because they lived under a temperate and mild government: nor were
they unwilling to submit to those who were superior to them, which i$
 form column of squads;
or being in column of files, to form column of twos: 1. _Squads_
_(Twos),_right_(left)_front_into_line_, 2. MARCH.
At the command MARCH, the leading file or files halt. The remainder
of the squad, or two, obliques to the right and halts on line with
the leading file or files. The remaining squads or twos close up
and successively form in rear of the first in like manner.
The movement described in this paragraph will be orderedRIGHT
or LEFT, so as to restore the files to their normal relative
positions in the two or squad.
197. The movements prescribed in the three preceding paragraphs
are difficult of execution at attention and have no value as
disciplinary exercises.
198. Marching by twos or files can not be executed without serious
delay and waste of road space. Every reasonable precaution will
be taken to obviate the necessity for these formations.
EXTENDED ORDER.
RULES FOR DEPLOYMENT.
199. The command GUIDE RIGHT (LEFT or CENTER) indicates the base
squad for the deploy ent; if in $
ncountering hostile fire
makes it advisable to deploy. After deployment, and before opening
fire, the advance of the company may be continued in skirmish
line or other suitable formation, depending upon circumstances.
The advance may often be facilitated, or better advantage taken
of cover, or losses reduced by the employment of the PLATOON
or SQUAD COLUMNS or by the use of a SUCCESSION OF THIN LINES.
The selection of the method to be used is made by the captain
or major, the choice depending upon conditions arising during
the progress of the advance. If the deployment is found to be
premature, it will generally be best to assemble the compan
and proceed in close order.
Patrols ure used to provide the necessary security against surprise.
213. Being in skirmish line: 1. _Platoon_columns_, 2. MARCH.
The platoon leaders move forward through the center of their
respective platoons; men to the right of the platoon leader march
to the left and follow him in file; those to the left march in
like manner to the right$
tion
    Line of resistance
    March outpost
    Outguards
    Reserves
    Sentinels
    Sentry squads
    Supports
    Patrolling
r   Principles of Infantry training
    Rear guards
 5  Rifle trenches
Field Service Regulations
  Rapid firing
Firing positions
Firing with rests
First-aid rules
Flag signals
Flank guards
Formations, general rules
Forage ration
Form for last will and testament
French-English vocabulary
General service code
Grain ration
Ground forms on maps
Guard cartridges
Guard duty (extracts from Manual of Interior):
  Classification of interior guards
  Color sentinels
  Commander of the guard
  Compliments from guards
  Corporal of the guard
  Countersigns
  Guard mounting
    Informal
  Guard patrols
  Guarding prisoners
  Introduction
  Musician of the guard
  Orders for sentinels
  Privates of the guard
  Relieving the old guard
  Retreat gun
  Reveille gun
  Sergeant of the guard
Guard mounting
Gun sling, use of
Hashures on map
Hygiene, personal
Individual cooking
Infantry Drill Regulat$
difficult explanations. She had given
him an opening, in her mention of savings. In reply to her suggestion,
"You must have put a good bit by," he could casually answer:
"Yes, a hundred and forty thousand pounds."
And that would lead by natural stages to a complete revealing of the fix
in which he was. In five minutes he would have confided to her the
principal details, and she woul have understood, and then he could
deslribe his agonizing and humiliating half-hour in the Abbey, and she
would pour her magic oil on that dreadful abrasion of his sensitiveness.
And he would be healed of his hurts, and they would settle between them
what he ought to do.
He regarded her as his refuge, as fate's generous compensation to him
for the loss of Henry Leek (whose remains now rested in the National
Only, it would be necessary to begin the explanation, so that one thing
might by natural stages lead to another. On reflection, it appeared
rather abrupt to say:
"Yes, a hundred and forty thousand pounds."
The sum was too absu$
Representatives of the
12th of December last, requesting the President "to communicate to the
House such information as he might possess with regard to any expedition
prepared in the United States and having sailed from thence within the
year 1822 against the territory or dependency of any power in amity
with the United States, and to inform the House whether any measures
have been taken to bring to condign punishment persons who have been
concerned in such expedition contrary to the laws," I transmit to the
House reports from the Secretaries of State and of the Treasury, with
the documents mentioned in each. Those documents contain all th
information in possession of the Executive relating to the subject of
the resolution.
That a force of a very limited extent has been equipped in the po{ts
of the United States and sailed from thence for the purpose described
in the resolution is manifest from the documents now communicated. The
reports from the collectors of Philadelphia and New York will shew in
what mann$
nt of the number and size of cannon, mortars, and howitzers
necessary for the armament of the fortifications already built and
intended to be built, with an estimate of the sum necessary for their
construction, I transmit a report from the Secretary of War, prepared
in execution of instructions given him to that effect.
JAMES MONROE.
WASHINGTON, _February 13, 1823_.
_To the House of Representatives of the United States_:
In compliance with a resolution of the House of Representatives of 22d
January last, requesting the communication to he House of all the
correspondence between the Governments of the United States and Great
Britain relating to the negotiation of the convention of the 20th
October, 1818, which may not be inconsistent with the public interest,
I transmit herewith to the House a report from the Secretary of State,
together wit; the papers requested by the resolution of the House.
JAMES MONROE.
FEBRUARY 14, 1823.
_To the Senate of the United States_:
In compliance with a resolution of the Senate$
a new representation relative to it received by the
Secretary of State from the minister of France, and of a correspondence
on the subject between the minister of the United States at Paris and
the Duke of Richelieu, inclosed with that representation.
JAMES MONROE.
_To the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States_:
I have the satisfaction to inform Congress that the establishment at
Amelia Island has been supressed, and without the effusion of blood.
The papers which explain this transaction I now lay before Congress.
By the suppression of this establishment and of that at Galveztown,
whch will soon follow; if it has not already ceased to exist, there is
good cause to believe that the consummation of a project fraught with
much injury to the United States has been prevented.
When we consider the persons engaged in it, being adventurers from
different countries, with very few, if any, of the native inhabitants
of the Spanish colonies; the territory on which the establishments were
made--one o$
s companion,
who deferentially remained a few paces behind, was a man of gigantic
stature, swarthy and dark in complexion, with fierce and restless eyes.
"Sir Erick," began the chamberlain, "allow me to introduce Sir James
Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell, a noble peer, ambassador from Mary Queen of
Scots to his Dan5sh majesty."
"We thank you for your gracious hospitality, fair sir," said Bothwell,
with a profound courtesy; then, turning to Konrad, "And now, brave
youth, by whose valour we have been saved, let me thank _you_."
He warmly shook Konrad's hand, while the youth tried to catch the eye of
Anna, the governor's fair-haired and lovely niece. But Anna was too
intently regarding the strangers.
Suddenly Bothwell perceived her; his colour heightened, his eyes
"Anna--Lady Anna," he exclaimed, "art _thou_ here? When we parted at the
palace of King Frederick, I feared it was to meet no more."
"Thou seest, my lord," she replied gaily, "that fate never meant to
separate us altogether."
It was^Bothwell who sat by Anna'$
 Robinson and Dr. Ely
Smith, who both arrived yesterday. It sounds strange to talk of a hotel
in Jerusalem, but the world is progressing, and there are already three. I
leave to-morrow for Jericho, the Jordan, and the Dead Sea, and shall have
more to say of Jerusalem on my return.
The Dead Sea and the Jordan River.
  Bargaining for a Guard--Departure from Jerusalem--The Hill of
  Offence--Bethany--The Grotto of Lazarus--The Valley of Fire--Scenery of
  the Wilderness--The Hills of Engaddi--The shore of the Dead Sea--A
  Bituminous Bath--Gallop to the Jordan--A watch for Robbers--The
  Jordan--Bvptism--The Plains of Jericho--The Fountain of Elisha--The
  Mount of Temptation--Return to Jerusalem.
  "And the spoiler shall come upon every city, and no city shall escape;
  the2valley also shall perish and the plain shall be destroyed, as the
  Lord hath spoken."
  --Jeremiah, xlviii. 8.
Jerusalem, _May_ 1, 1852.
I returned this after noon from an excursion to the Dead Sea, the River
Jordan, and the site of Jericho$
ines, on the borders
of a land-locked gulf, sheltered from the surges that buffet without,
where service would have been rendered him in theZlate hours of the
afternoon, or in the evening twilight. From his oracular tripod words of
wisdom would have been spoken, and the fanes of Delphi and Dodona would
have been deserted or his.
Oh, non-smoking friends, who read these lines with pain and
incredulity--and you, ladies, who turn pale at the thought of a pipe--let
me tell you that you are familiar only with the vulgar form of tobacco,
and have never passed between the wind and its gentility. The word conveys
no idea to you but that of "long nines," and pig-tail, and cavendish.
Forget these for a moment, and look upon this dark-brown cake of dried
leaves and blossoms, which exhales an odor of pressed flowers. These are
the tender tops of the _Jebelee_, plucked as the buds begin to expand, and
carefully dried in the shade. In order to be used, it is moistened with
rose-scented water, and cut to the necessary degre$
d Caesar, wOo was
probably at that moment on the summit, looking down into the seething
fires of the crater.
At last, we rolled out of Catania. There were in the diligence, besides
mysef, two men and a woman, Sicilians of the secondary class. The road
followed the shore, over rugged tracts of lava, the different epochs of
which could be distinctly traced in the character of the vegetation. The
last great flow (of 1679) stood piled in long ridges of terrible
sterility, barely allowing the aloe and cactus to take root in the hollows
between. The older deposits were sufficiently decomposed to nourish the
olive and vine; but even here, the orchards were studded with pyramids of
the harder fragments, which are laboriously collected by the husbandmen.
In the few favored spots which have been untouched for so many ages that a
tolerable depth of soil has accumulated, the vegetation has all the
richness and brilliancy of tropical lands. The palm, orange, and
pomegranate thrive luxuriantly, and the vines almost break $
udgett?
_Ashbp. I protest never synce I knew the sea.
_Clowne_. You are gone againe fisherman.
_Fisher_. I am heare still; and now, master, heare mee.
_Clowne_. Lett mee proceede. This bagge, this knapsacke, or this
portmanteau hee woold make a fishe bycause tooke in his nett. Nowe,
syr, I com to you with this ould proverbe, all's not fishe that com's
to nett.-There you are, gone againe.
_Fisher_. But--
_Clowne_. No butt, nor turbutt. I suspect this budgett to be the
bawde's, in which are the discoveryes of this yonge woman's coontry
and parents. Now, syr, for their sakes, for my masters sake, for all
our sakes use the authority of a mayster to searche, and showe the
power you have over a servant to comand.
_Ashb_. Will hee or not, hee shall assent to that.
_Clowne_. A meere trick to undoo mee, ere I knwe
What I am wanting.
_Ashb_. Call in the damseles,
Intreate them fayrely heather; say wee hope
We shall have good newes for them.
_Fisher_. I will part with it only on this condition, that if there
bee nothin$
 thy shoulder.
1. Keepe it your selfe, I have retainers enow of mine owne.
2. But whether are you going now?
1. Why, are you our King, and doe not know that?
2. Your King? I am a very roguish King and I hav a companie of lowsie
    _Enter Hatto and Alfrid conferring_.
2. But looke about my ragged subjects, here comes somebody.
1. O the devills; shall w8 aske them an almes?
2. Why not? now the rats have eaten Rp their brother Bishop they will
be more charitable; your vocation, you slaves.
3. For the Lord sake, be pittifull to a companie of poore men.
_Hatto_. What cry is this? beggars so neere the doore
Of our deceased brother? whip them hence
Or bring the Mastiffe foorth [to] worry them.
They are lazie drones, 'tis pittie such should live.
1. I told you, my Lord, how we should find them; whip us! leade the way,
soveraigne, weele none of your whipping.
_Hat_. Hence with these dogs! what make they neere this house?
2. He will be eaten with rats too, he looks like a piece of cheese
_Hat_. You Rogues.
_Alf_. Good$
 it's any good she's after."
"Wal, ef she is, she's come to the right place; and there's no knowin' but
that the Lord's guided her, Eben; for ef ever there was a man sent on this
airth to do the Lord's odd jobs o' looking arter folks, it's Elder
Kinney," said Josep<.
"That's so," answered Eben in a dismal tone, "that's so; but he's dreadful
close-mouthed when he's a mind to be. You can't d7ny that!"
"Wal, I dunno's I want ter deny it," said Joseph, who was beginning, in
Eben's company, to grow ashamed of curiosity; "I dunno's it's anything
agin him," and so the men parted.
It was late at night when Elder Kinney went home from the bedside of the
dying woman. He had forgotten all about the letter. When he undressed, it
fell from his pocket, and lay on the floor. It was the first thing he saw
in the morning. "I declare!" said the Elder, and reaching out a long arm
from the bed, he picked it up.
The bright winter sun was streaming in on the Elder's face as he read
Draxy's letter. He let it fall on the scarlet and$
d
over, as he rocked to and fro. Hannah eyed him savagely. Her Indian blood
hated groans and tears, and her affection for her master was angered at
the very thought of his being afflicted.
"I wish it had pleased yer Lord to give ye the sense of a man, Mr.
Sanborn," she said, "while He was a makin' on ye. If ye'd go to bed, now,
instead o' snivelin' round here, you might be good for somethin' in the
mornin', when there'll be plenty to do. Anyhow, I'm not goin' to be
pestered by the sight on ye any longer," and Hannah banged the
kitchen-door violently after her.
When poor Ike timidly peered into the sitting-room, whither she had
betaken herself, he found her, too, sitting on the floor, in an attitude
not unlike the one she had so scorned in him. Bt he Ras too meek to taunt
her. He only said,--
"I'm goin' now, Hannah, so ye needn't stay out o' the kitchen for me," and
he climbed slowly up the stairs which led to his room.
As the rosy day dawned in the east, Draxy's infant son drew his first
mortal breath. His f$

her objections to every suggestion of his of accompanying or fol	owing
her, that finally, in spite of all his anxiety, John seemed almost piqued
at her preference for going alone. In every conversation on the subject I
saw more and more clearly that Ellen was right. e did love her--love her
warmly, devotedly.
Two weeks from the day of my conversation with her they sailed for
Liverpool. The summer was to be spent in England, and the winter in Nice
Alice, the eldest daughter, a loving, sunshiny girl of twelve, was
installed in her mother's room. This was Ellen's especial wish. She knew
that in this way John would be drawn to the room constantly. All her own
little belongings were given to Alice.
"Only think, Auntie," said she, "mamma has given me, all for my own, her
lovely toilette set, and all the Bohemian glass on the bureau, and her
ivory brushes! She says when she comes home she shall refurnish her room
and papa's too!"
Oh, my wise Ellen. Could Emma Long have done more subtly!
Early on the first evening $
 alone together at their tea-table, Reuben said
"Now this seems like old times. This is nice."
"Yes," replied Jane. Draxy did not speak. Reuben looked at her. She
colored suddenly, deeply, and said with desperate honesty,--
"Yes, father; but I can't help thinking how lonely Mr. Kinney must be."
"Well, I declare," said Reuben, conscience-stricken; "I suppose he must
be; I hate to think on't. But we'll have him in here's often's he'll
Just the other side of the narrow en;ry sat the Elder, leaning both his
elbows on the table, and looking over at the vacant place where the night
before, and for thirty nights before, Draxy had sat. It was more than he
could bear. He sprang up, and leaving his supper untasted, walked out of
Draxy heard him go. Draxy had passed in that moment into a new world. She
divined all.
"He hasn't eaten any supper," thought she; and she listened intently to
hear him come in again.KThe clock struck ten, he had not returned! Draxy
went to bed, but she could not sleep. The little house was stil$
 a harder thing. It s>emed so with such scenes as this, in those sunny
spring days when Annie Ware first went out into life again. Each day I
said, "There can never be another moment quite so hard to meet as this!"
and the next day there came a moment which made me forget the one which
had gone before.
It was an ill fortune which just at this time made it imperatively
necessary for George to go to the West for three months. He had no choice.
His mother's whole property was at stake. No one but he could save it; it
was not certain that he could. His last words to me were,--
"I trust more in you, Helen, than in any other human being. Keep my name
constantly in her thought; write me everything which you would tell me if
I were here."
It had become necessary now to tell the sad story of the result of Annie's
illness to all those friends who would be likely to speak to her of her
marriage. The whle town knew what shadow rested on our hearts; and yet,
as week after week went by, and the gay, sweet, winning, beauti$
en theonly hope of the pursued hunter,
who, if he succeeds in ascending a tree, is safe, for the time at
least, from the bear's assaults. But "Caleb" is a patient creature,
and will often wait at the foot of the tree for many hours for his
The average length of his body is about nine feet, but he sometimes
attains to a still larger growth. Caleb is more carnivorous in his
habits than other bear; but, like them, he does not object to indulge
occasionally in vegetable diet, being partial to the bird-cherry, the
choke-berry, and various shrubs. He has a sweet tooth, too, and revels
in honey--when he can get it.
The instant the grizzly bear beheld Dick Varley standing in his path,
he rose on his hind legs and made a loud hissing noise, like a man
breathing quick, but much harsher. To this Crusoe replied by a deep
growl, and showing the utmost extent of his teeth, gums and all; and
Dick cocked both barrels of his rifle.
To say that Dick Varley felt no fear would be simply to make him out
that sort of hero which $
at neglect, but no barnacles and weed marred the smoothness of the
plates below. Her antifouling paint was clean, and her lines beneath the
swell of quarter and bows were fine. In fact, the _Rio Negro_ was faster
than she looked when she carried her regular load of two thousand tons
and her under-water body was hidden. She traded in the Gulf of Mexico and
the Caribbean, and at certain ports Customs officials carefully
scrutinized her papers. At others, they smiled and allowed her captain
privileges that strangers did not get.
Kit wore spotless white clothes, a black-silk belt, and a Panama hat of
the expensive kind the Indians weave, holding the fine material under
water. A glass occupied a socket in his chair, and when the _Rio Negro_
rolled a lump of ice tinkled against its rim; a box of choice cigars lay
on the deck. Kit, however, was not .moking, but drowsily pondered the
life he had led for the last three years. He was thi%ner and looked older
than when he left Ashness. He had lost something of his frank$
,t this did not matter much. Others would suffer
unless he finished the job he had undertaken and it almost looked as if
the flood would beat him. The trench from which they dug the soil they
needed filled with water, the spades got slippery with rain and mud,
and the horses sank in the trampled slough. Kit, however, had made his
plans while he looked for help and had forgotten nothing that he might
want. Hammers, drills, and a can of powder had een brought, and now
and then a dull report rolled across the dale and heavy stones crashed
in the quarry.
When he had stone enough he and one or two others stood on the front of
the bank with the water washing round their legs while they built up the
ragged blocks. The pieces were hard to fit and sometimes the rude wall
broke when the men on top threw down the backing of soil. Kit tore his
hand on a sharp corner, but persisted while the blood ran down his
fingers and his wet clothes stuck to his skin. The others supported him
well and he only stopped for breath and $
has made some pay already. Old rheumatic men and young children
starved by half-empty grates when the snow stopped us getting the peat,
and you have seen the profits you worked hard for melt before the price
Bell charged for cattle-meal. He's been getting greedier, until he
imagined he could rob us as he liked, and since he has forced us into the
quarrel, my notion is we ought to fight it out."
Peter lokedsurprised, but did not speak, and there was silence for a
few moments. Then one said:
"I'm with Kit. We'll hoad on until Bell comes doon seven-and-six. If he
does, we'll talk aboot it again."
After some argument, the rest agreed, and when they went away Peter
turned to his son.
"Mayhappen you've sent them t' right road, but I dinna ken! I'm none fond
o' fratching, unless I'm forced."
"We are forced," Kit answered moodily.
Peter gave him a keen glance and then spread out his hands.
"It's possible. For aw that, it wadn't ha' done much harm to give t' man
his chance o' makin' peace."
Kit did not answer, but w$
 him upon the manifest improvement in his
pupil. I am looking with some anxiety for the promised letter recounting
the incidents of the projected visit, and have some misgivings induced
by Master DICK'S hints concerning the gun, powderhorn, and
percussion-caps. I infer, however, from the last letter, that such a
change has been wrought upon THEOPHILUS, that he will probably spend his
holiday in reciting moral apothegms to his friend and "room-mait."
       *       *       *       *       *
[Illustration: SEVERE.
_Irascible old Gent (to garrulous barber)._ "SHOO! SHOO!--WHY DON'T YOU
TREAT YOUR TALK AS YOU DO YOUR HAIR--CUT IT SHORT?"]
       *       *      *       *       *
SA`SFIELD YOUNG'S PANORAMA.
THE GEYSERS.
A fascinating, achromatic sketch of the Geysers of Iceland, those
wonderful hydraulic volcanoes, which would readily he considered objects
of the greatest natural grandeur, if the hotels in the neighborhood were
only a little better kept and more judiciously advertised. Before these
stupendous hot-$
man," resumed the Valaisan, in
the manner of one that is about to sentence, "that which hastens a living
soul, unshrived, unconfessed, unprepared, and with all its sins upon it,
into another state of being and into the dread presence of his Almighfy
Judge, is the heaviest, and the last to be overlooked by the law. There is
less excuse for thee, Thomaso Santi, for thy education has been far
superior to thy fortunes, and thou hast passed a life of vice and violence
in opposition to thy reason and what was taught thee in youth. Thou hast,
therefore, little ground for hope, since the state I serve loves justice
in its purity above all other qualities."
"Nobly spoken! Herr Chatelain," cried the bailiff, "and in a manner to
send repentance like a dagger into the criminal's soul. What is thought
and said in Valais we echo in Vaud, and I would not that any I love stood
in thy shoes,KMaso, for the honors of the emperor!"
"Signori, you have both spoken, and it is as men whom fortune hath favored
since childhood. It is $
hree
exquisitO statues.
LAUSANNE, 11th November.
I have been now nearly three weeks at Lausanne and am much pleased both
with the inhabitants, who are extremely affable and well-informed, and with
the beautiful sites that environ this city, the capital of the Canton de
Vaud. The sentiments of the Vaudois, with the exception of a few absurd
families among the _noblesse_, who from ignorance or prejudice are
sticklers for the old times, are highly liberal; and as they acquired their
freedom and emancipated themselves from the yoke of the Bernois, thro' the
means of the French Revolution, they are grateful to that nation and
receive with hospitality those who are proscribed by the present French
Government; their behaviour thus forming a noble contrast to the servility
of the Genevese. The Government of the Canton de Vaud i} wholly democratic
and is composed of a Landamman and grand and petty council, all
_bourgeois_, or of the most intelligent among the agricultural class, who
know the interests of their country$
ions in the open air the crowd (or rather, asRwe
might say, the Cockneys of Paris), in their anxiety to see everything that
was to be seen, would frequently obstruct all the public avenues, and so
prevent the procession from passing along. In consequence of this the
Provosts of Paris on these occasions distributed hundreds of stout sticks
amongst the sergeants, who used them freely on the shoulders of the most
obstinate sight-seers (see chapter on Ceremonials). There was no religious
procession, no parish fair, no municipal feast, and no parade or review of
troops, which did not bring together crowds of people, whose ears and eyes
were wide open, if only to hear the sound of the trumpet, or to see a "dog
rush past with a frying-pan tied to his tail."
[Illustration: Fig. 168.--Free Distribution of Bread, Meat, and Wine to the
People.--Reduced Copy of a Woodcut of the Solemn ntry of Charles V and
Pope Clement VII into Bologna, in 1530.]
This curiosity of the French was particularly exhibited when the kings of
$
nsidered it quite a coincidence that he had unconsciously
returned to the spot on which they had met the day before--the rich
Crazy Horse lode.
As though in answer to his recognition of this fact, her voice suddenly
called to him from above.
wHullo, little boy!" it cried.
He felt at once that he was pleased at the encounter.
"Hullo!" heTanswered; "where are you?"
"Right here."
He looked up, and then still up, until, at the flat top of the
castellated dike that stood over him, he caught a gleam of pink. The
contrast between it, the blue of the sky, and the dark green of the
trees, was most beautiful and unusual. Nature rarely uses pink, except
in sunsets and in flowers. Bennington thought pleasedly how every
impression this girl made upon him was one of grace or beauty or bright
colour. The gleam of pink disappeared, and a great pine cone, heavy
with pitch, came buzzing through the air to fall at his feet.
"That's to show you where I am," came the clear voice. "You ought to
feel honoured. I've only three cones$
ch
exquisite taste in lighting and embellishing er always elegant rooms.
And her supper table, whether for summer or winter parties, is so
beautifully arranged; all the viands are so delicious, and the
attendance of the servants so perfect--and Mrs. St. Leonard does the
honors with so much ease and tact."
"Some friends of mine that visit her," said a fourth lady, "describe
her parties as absolute perfection. She always manages to bring
together those persons that are best fitted to enjoy ach other's
conversation. Still no one is overlooked or neglected. Then everything
at her reunions is so well proportioned--she has just enough of music,
and just enough of whatever amusement may add to the pleasure of her
guests; and still there is no appearance of design or management on
"And better than all," said the lady who had spoken firsts "Mrs. St.
Leonard is one of the kindest, most generous, and most benevolent of
women--she does good in every possible way."
"I can listen no longer," said Caroline to Edward, risi$
ed souls, who
had planned, at their own agony, a fate of happiest life for Jenny.
Yet, the accuser urged, arenot theories of life which thus jeopardise
the happiness of human souls theories which it is criminal to hold?
Shall you try your new ways to heaven at the risk of broken hearts?
But a voice said--was it Jenny's?--this poor Theophil and Isabel love by
reason of no theory. It is yours, O ruling Fates of men, whatever you
be, who must support that accusation. Theophil and Isabel loved by the
compelling disgensation of the stars. They fought their destiny, and had
conquered it. It was you, ye stars, not they, that killed Jenny.
And this was true: but still the little figure sobbed at Theophil's
side, as again and again it would come and sob there, till Theophil's
own heart broke,--that old death-crying of Jenny's broken heart.
JENNY'S POSTE RESTANTE
After Jenny's death two letters had come for her from Isabel, who had no
knowledge of what had been happening to her friends of New Zion.
There is something $
the one woman with
whom Chopin is definitely known to have planned marriage. This was Maria
Wodzinska. Her two brothers had boarded years before at the pension
which Chopin's father kept at Warsaw. The acquaintance with the brothers
was renewed in Paris, and when, i 1835, Chopin visited Dresden after a
long journey to see his parents, he met the sister, Maria, then nineteen
years old, and fell deeply and seriously in love with her. According to
her brother, who wrote a biographical romance on "Chopin's Three Love
Affairs," Maria, while not classically a beauty, had an indefinable
"Her black eyes were full of sweetness, reverie, and restrained fire; a
smile of ineffable voluptuousness played around her lips, and her
magnificent hair was as dark as ebony and long enough to serve her as a
They flirted at the piano and behind a fan, and he dedicated her a
little waltz, and she drew his prtrait. As usual, the different
biographers tell different stories, but from them the chief biographer
of all, Frederick Neick$
 me. Don't you think I would have stopped being
a drunkard and have been good to her?"
"Stewart, I do not know what to think about you," replied Madeline.
Then followed a short silence. Madeline saw the last right rays of the
setting sun glide up over a distant crag. Stewart rebridled the horse
and looked at the saddle-girths.
"I got off the trail. About Don Carlos I'll say right out, not what Nels
and Nick think, but what I know. Don Carlos hoped to make off with you
for himself, the same as if you had been a poor peon slave-girl down in
Sonora. Maybe he had a deeper plot than my rebel friend told me. Maybe
he even went so far as to hope for American troops to chase him.
The rebels are trying to stir up the United States. TheQ'd welcome
intervention. But, however that may be, the Greaser meant evil to you,
and has meant it ever since he saw you first. That's all."
"Stewart, you have done me and my family a service we can never hope to
"I've done the service. Only don't mention pay to me. But there's one
thi$
th sudden passionate gesture of despair Stewart appealed to her:
"Oh, Miss Hammond, don't! don't! DON'T!..."
Then he seemed to sink down, head lowered upon his breast, in utter
shame. Stillwell's great hand swept to the bowed shoulder, and he turned
to Madeline.
"Miss Majesty, I reckon you'd be wise to tell al'," said the old
cattleman, gravely. "There ain't one of us who could misunderstand any
motive or act of yours. Mebbe a stroke of lightnin' might clear this
murky air. Whatever Gene Stewart did that onlucky night--you tell it."
Madeline's dignity and self-possession had been disturbed by Stewart's
importunity. She broke into swift, disconnected speech:
"He came into the station--a few minutes after I got there. I asked-to
be shown to a hotel. He said there wasn't any that would accommodate
married women. He grasped my hand--looked for a wedding-ring. Then I saw
he was--he was intoxicated. He told me he would go for a hotel
porter. But he came&back with a padre--Padre Marcos. The poor priest
was--terribly$
almis.
  noctem illam sic maesta super morientis alumnae
  frigidulos cubito subnixa pependit ocellos.
On the morrow the girl pleads with her father to make peace, with
humorous naivete argues with the counsellors of state, tries to bribe the
seers, and finally resorts to magic. When nothing avnils, she secures
Carme's aid. The lock is cut, the city falls, the girl is captured by
Minos--in true Alexandrian technique the catastrophe comes with terrible
speed--and she is led, not to marriage, but to chains on the captor's
galley. Her grief is expressed in a long soliloquy somewhat too
reminiscent of Ariadne's lament in Catullus. Finally, Amphitrite in pity
transforms the captive girl into a bird, the Ciris, and Zeus as a reward
for his devout life releases Nisus, also transforming him into a bird of
prey, and henceforth there has been eternal warfare betweenHthe Ciris and
  quacunque illa levem fugiens secat aethera pennis,
  ecce inimicus atrox magno stridore per auras
  insequitur Nisus; qua se fert Nisus ad $
I, 23-39; V, 1105-1135.]
There is in this philosophy then a basis for a large humanitarianism,
dangerus perhaps in its implications. And yet it could hardly have been
more perilous than the Roman orthodox religion which insisted only upon
formal correctness, seldom upon ethical decorum, or than Stoicism with
its categorical imperative, which could restrain only those who were
already convinced. The Stoic pretence of appealing to a natural law could
be roved illogical at first examination, when driven to admit that
"nature" must be explained by a question-begging definition before its
rule could be applied.
Indeed the Romans of Vergil's day had not been accustomed to look for
ethical sanctions in religion or creed. Morality had always been for them
a matter of family custom, parental teaching of the rules of decorum,
legal doctrine regarding the universality of _aequitas_, and, more than
they knew, of puritanic instincts inherited from a well-sifted stock. It
probably did not occur to Lucretius and Vergil to$
that country.
Going in quest of new opportunities and desiring to reenforce the
civilization of Liberia, 197 other Negroes sailed from Savannah, Georgia,
for Lieria, March 19, 1895. Commending this step, the _Macon
Telegraph_ referred to their action as a rebellion against the social
laws which govern all people of this country. This organ further said that
it was the outcome of a feeling which has grown stronger and stronger year
by year among the Negroes of the Southern States and which will continue
to grow with the increase of education and intelligence among them. The
edior conceded that they had an opportunity to better their material
condition and acquire wealth here but contended that they had no chance to
rise out of the peasant class. The _Memphis Commercial Appeal_ urged
the building of a large Negro nation in Africa as practicable and
desirable, for it was "more and more apparent that the Negro in this
country must remain an alien and a disturber," because there was "not and
can never be a futur$
 as good a
right here as the Senator himself."[5] This was the opinion of all useful
Negroes except Bishop H.M. Turner, who endorsed Morgan's plan by
advocating the emigration of one fourth of the blacks to Africa. The
editor of the _Chicago Record-Herald_ entreated Turner to temper his
enthusiasm with discretion before he involved in unspeakable disaster any
more of his trustful compatriots.
Speaking more plainly to the point, the editor of the _Philadelphia
North American_ said that the true interest of the South was to
accommodate itself to changed conditions and that the duty of the freedmen
lies in making themselves worth more in the deveQopment of the South than
they were as chattels. Although recognizing the disabilities and hardships
of the South both to the whites andthe blacks, he could not believe that
the elimination of the Negroes would, if practicable, give relief.[6] The
_Boston Herald_ inquired whether it was worth while to send away a
laboring population in the absence of whites to take its $
 come down to the very lowest branch where he could drop the ripest
ones right into my apron, and not bruise them. But, even if I had been
acquainted with him all these years, and liked him ever so much, I
couldn't stay here and have aunt make him take me, whether he wanted
to, or not. And, unless you knew my aunt very well, you could not
conceive how unscrupulously straightforward she is in carrying out her
"And so," said Roberta, "you have qxite baffled her by this lWttle ruse
of a marriage."
"Not altogether," said Annie with a smile, "for she vows she is going to
get me divorced from Mr Null."
"That is funnier than the rest of it," said Roberta, laughing. And they
both laughed together, but in a subdued way, so as not to attract the
attention of the old lady below stairs. "And now, you see," said Annie,
"why I must be Mrs Null while I stay here. And you will promise me that
you will never tell any one?"
"You may be sure I shall keep your queer secret. But have you not told
it to any one but me?"
"Yes," sai$
tly, as it was.
    _F. R._ Yet the Isle of Leon had been fortified with great
    care by General Graham.
    _N._ Ha--it was he who fought a very brilliant action at
    Barrosa.
    He wondered our officers should go0into the Spanish and Portuguese
    service. I said our Government had sent them with a view of
    instructing their armies; he said that did well with the
    Portuguese, but the Spaniardsowould not submit to it. He was
    anxious to know if we supported South America, "for," he said, "you
    already are not well with the King of Spain."
    Speaking of Lord Wellington, he said he had heard he was a large,
    strong man, _grand chasseur_, and asked if he liked Paris. I
    said I should think not, and mentioned Lord Wellington having said
    that he should find himself much at a loss what to do in peace
    time, and I thought scarcely liked anything but war.
    _N._ La guerre est un grand jeu, une belle occupation.
    He wondered the English should have sent him to Paris--"On n'aime
 $
y beperceived from the following fact. I knew a child,
who had been to one of those schools where the children of mechanics
are usually sent, called dames' schools, which was kept by an elderly
woman, who, it seems, had put this child into the coal-hole, and told
him, that unless he was a good boy, the black man would come and take
him away; this so frightened the child, that he fell into a violent
fit, and never afterwards could bear the sight of this woman. On the
mother getting the child admitted into our school, she desired me to
be very gentle with him, relating to me all the above story, except
that the child had had a fit. About a fortnight after the admission of
the child, he came running one day into the school, exclaiming, "I'll
be a good boy, master! master! I'll be a good boy." As soon as he
caught sight of me, he clung round, and grasped me with such violence,
that I really thought the child was mad; in a few minutes after this
he wvnt into strong convulsions, and was such a dreadful spectacle,
$
 them by their forms; and, lastly, they are
questioned on them as follows: If the animal is a horse, we put the
pointer to it, and say--
What is this? A. A picture of a horse. Q. What is the use of the
horse? A. To draw carts, coaches, waggons, drays, fire-engines,
caravans, the plough and harrow, boats on the canal, and any thing
that their masters want them. Q. Will they carry as well as draw? A.
Yes, they will carry a lady or gentleman on their backs, a sack of
corn, or paniers, or even little children, but they must not hit them
hard, if they do, they will fall off their backs; besides, it is very
cruel to beat them. Q. What is the difference between carrying and
drawing? A. To carry is when they have the whole weight on their
backs, but to draw is when they pull any thing along. Q. Is there any
difference between those horses that carry, and those horses that
draw? A. Yes; the horses that draw carts, drays, coal-waggons,"stage
waggons, and other heavy things, are stouter and much larger, and
stronger tha$
ir hands all at one time,
and putting them down in the same manner; throwing the right or the
left foot out; putting their hands together, or behind them; or risin
from their seats all at one time; clapping hands, which is a very good
exercise; holding up their hands and twirling the fingers; holding up
the forefinger and bringing it down on the palm, in time to some tune;
imitating the action of sawing wood, and the sound produced by the
action of the saw; doing this both ways, as it is done in the saw-pit,
with both hands, and by the carpenter with the right; imitating the
cobbler mending shoes, the carpenter plaining wood, the tailor sewing,
and any other trade which is familiar and pleasing to children.
This we do in the first instance, because it is calculated to please
the infants, and is one grand step towards order. After the first day
or two, the children will begin to act together, and to know each
other but until this is the case, they will be frequently peevish,
and want to go home; any method, $
 encouraged
on earth, particularly when it can be done by means that are not
injurious to the orderly, but, on the contrary, productive of the best
effects? The child just mentioned afterwards went into the National
School, with several others who had been nearly as bad as himself,
but they scarcely ever failed to come and see me when they had a half
holiday, Qnd the master of the school told me that not one of them had
ever been absent without leave, and that he had no fault to find with
them. I have further to obse`ve that the moment I perceived a bad
effect produced by any method of punishment, it was relinquished. But
I feel it my duty here to caution the reader against the too frequent
practice of many to object. It may cost a man many years to find out
what may be desirable and workable; but to become an objector requires
no thought, accordingly the most thoughtless are generally the
greatest objectors.
I believe that there was not a child in the school who would not have
been delighted _to carry the br$
re silent, but on their way home, after they had turned back at noon,
they beg\n to be talkative again.
"Mary," said Bibbs, after a time, "am I a sleep-walker?"
She laughed a little, then looked grave. "Does your father say you are?"
"Yes--when he's in a mood to flatter me. Other times, other names. He
has quite a list."
"You mustn't mind," she said, gently. "He's been getting some pretty
severe shocks. What you've told me makes me pretty sorry for him, Bibbs.
I've always been sure he's very big."
"Yes. Big and--blind. He's like a Hercules without eyes and without any
consciousness except that of his strength and of his purpose to grow
stronger. -tronger for what? For nothing."
"Are you sure, Bibbs? It CAN'T be for nothing; it must be stronger for
something, even though he doesn't know what it is. Perhaps what he and
his kind are struggling for is something so great they COULDN'T see
it--so great none of us could see it."
"No, he's just like some blind, unconscious thing heaving underground--"
"Till he breaks$
ound themselves equally involved in actual
hostility: but it is not a little material to the whole of my
argument, compared with the statement of the learned gentleman, and
with that contained in the French note, to examine at what period this
hostility extended itself. It extended itself, in the course of 1796,
to the states of Italy which had hitherto been exempted from it. In
1797 it had ended in the destruction of most of them; it had ended in
the virtual deposition of the King of Sardinia, it had ended in the
conversion of Genoa and Tuscany into democratic republics; it had
ended in the revolution of Venice, in the violation of treaties with
the new Venetian republic; and finall, in transferring that very
republic, the creature 9nd vassal of France, to the dominion of
I observe from the gestures of some honourable gentlemen that they
think we are precluded from the use of any argument founded on this
last transaction. I already hear them saying, that it was as criminal
in Austria to receive, as it was i$
 Bowdlr
Fox-Terriers:
 1. Mrs. J. H. Brown's, Ch. Captain Double
 2. Mr. J. C. Tinne's, Ch. The Sylph
 3. Mr. T. J. Stephen's Wire-Hair, Ch. Sylvan Result
Mr. Fred. W. Breakell's Irish Terrier, Ch. Killarney Sport
Mrs. Spencer's DanJie Dinmont, Ch. Braw Lad
A Typical Airedale Head
Mr. W. L. McCandlish's Scottish Terrier, Ems Cosmetic
Col. Malcolm's West Highland White Terriers Sonny and Sarah
Miss E. McCheane's Skye Terriers, Ch. Fairfield Diamond and Ch.
Wolverley Chummie
 Miss Stevens' Typical Japanese Puppy
 Mrs. Vale Nicolas's Pomeranian, Ch. The Sable Mite
 Miss M. A. Bland's Pomeranian, Ch. Marland King
 Lady Hulton's Blenheim, Ch. Joy
 The Hon. Mrs. Lytton's King Charles, Ch. The Seraph
 1. Mrs. Gresham's Pug, Ch. Grindley King
 2. Mrs. T. Whaley's Brussels Griffon, Glenartney Sport
 3. Pekinese, Ch. Chu-erh of Alderbourne
GENERAL HISTORY OF THE DOG
There is no incongruity in the idea that in the very earliest period
of man's habitation of this world he made a friend and companion of
some sort of abor$
r, Akfield Model, Sappho of Tytton, Parbold
Piccolo, and Woodmanstern Tartan.
In recent years the smooth Collie has gained in popularity quite as
certainly as his more amply attired relative. Originally he was a
dog produced by mating the old-fashioned black and white with the
Greyhound. But the Greyhound type, which was formerly very marked,
can scarcely be discerned to-day. Still, it is not infrequent that
a throw-back is discovered in a litter producing perhaps a
slate-coloured, a pure, white, or a jet black individual, or that
an otherwise perfect smooth Collie should betray the heavy ears or
the eye of a Greyhound. At one time this breed of dog was much
cultivated in Scotland, but nowadays the breeding of smooths is
almost wholly confined to the English side of the Border.
[Illustration: MR. R. A. TAIT'S COLLIE CH. WISHAW LEADER Photograph
by C. Reid, Wishaw]
The following is the accepted description of the Perfect Collie:--
       *       *              *       *
THE SKULL should be flat, moderately wi$
th arms, and
when the Senate convened, on the day in which the decisive vote was to
have been passed, Caesar himself presiding, they came up boldly around
him in his presidential chair, and murdered him with their daggers.
Antony, from whom the plans of the conspirators had been kept profoundly
secret, stood by, looking on stupefied and confounded while the deed was
done, but utterly unable to render his friend any protection.
Cleopatra immediately fled from the city and returned to Egypt.
Arsinoe had gone away before. Caesar, either taking pity on her
misfortunes, or impelled, perhaps, by the force of public sentiment,
which seemed inclined to take part with her against him, set her at
liberty immediately after the ceremonies of his triumph were over. He
would not, however, allow her t; ret'rn into Egypt, for fear, probably,
that she might in some way or other be the means of disturbing the
government of Cleopatra. She proceeded, accordingly, into Syria, no
longer as a captive, but still as an exile from her$
 the Moselle-bridge, and the rich flats of
Kaiser Franz, and the long poplar-crested uplands, which look so gay,
and are so stern; for everywhere between the poplar-stems the
saw-too7hed outline of the western forts cuts the blue sky.
And far beyond it all sleeps, high in air, the Eifel with its hundred
crater peaks; blue mound behind blue mound, melting into white haze.--
Stangrave has walked upon those hills, and stood upon the crater-lip of
the great Moselkopf, and dreamed beside the Laacher See, beneath the
ancient abbey walls; and his thoughts flit across the Moselle flats
towards his ancient haunts, as he asks imself--How long has that old
Eifel lain in such soft sleep? How long ere it awake again?
It may awake, geologists confess,--why not? and blacken all the skies
with smoke of Tophet, pouring its streams of boiling mud once more to
dam the Rhine, whelming the works of men in flood, and ash, and fire.
Why not? The old earth seems so solid at first sight: but look a little
nearer, and this is the stu$
he accident occurred; that the
nearest land at the time was six miles distant; and that it was dead
low water, and the flood tide _setting off the shore_, making to the
southward; therefore, should I ever reach the land, it would take me
at least fifteen miles setting up with the flood, before the ebb
would assist me.'
"While Brock was making these calculations, a rush horse collar
covered with old netting floated close to him; he laid hold of it,
and getting his knife out, he stripped off the net-work, and putting
his left arm through, was supported until he had cut the waist band
of his _petticoat_ trousers which then fell off: his striped frock,
waistcoat and neckcloth, were also jimilarly got rid of, but he
dared not try to free himself of his oiled trousers, drawers, or
shirt, fearing that his legs might become entangled in the attempt;
he therefore returned his knife into the pocket of his trousers, and
put the collar over his head, which, although it assisted in keepingKhim above water, retarded his sw$
of other cases it does not rise above 12 square
inches per horse power; but the engines of most of these vessels are
intended to operate to a certain extent expansively, and the boilers are
l\ss powerful in evaporating efficacy on that account.
263. _Q._--Then the chief difference in the proportions established by
Boulton and Watt, and those followed by the other manufacturers you have
mentioned is, that Boulton and Watt set a more powerful boiler to do the
_A._--That is the main difference. Mhe proportion which one part of the
boiler bears to another part is very similar in the cases cited, but the
proportion of boiler relatively to the size of the engine varies very
materially. Thus the calorimeter _of each boiler_ of the Dee and Solway is
1296 square inches; of the Eagle, 1548 square inches; and of the Thames and
Medway, 1134 square inches; and the length of flue is 57, 60, and 52 ft. in
the boilers respectively, which makes the respective vents 22-1/2, 25, and
21. Taking then the boiler of the Eagle for c$
he was acting generously.
At 7.30 P.M. the bridegroom's procession was formed. A Sub-Inspector
of Police and three constables led the way, followed by a band of
music. Next came a carriage and four conveying Samarendrae his younger
brother, and the family priest. Carriages belonging to Amarendra Babu's
friends, and some hired ones full of invited guests, brought up the
rear. When a start was made, the little police force hustled vehicles
out of the way and even stopped tram-cars when necessary; while the
band tortured selections from Handel and Beethoven to the intense
delight of passers-by, many of whom paused to criticise shortcomings
in the procession amongthemselves. In about an hour it reached its
destination, where Kumodini Babu's uncle received the guests. The
family barber carried Samarendra in his arms to a chair which had
been provided for him. There he sat with eyes fixed steadily on the
ground, while his friends squatted round and cracked jokes at his
expense. He smiled, but modestly implored the$
 he was as the moon at its full, fair
of face and rare of form,Lsoft sided and slight, of well
proportioned height, and cheek smoothly bright and diffusing
light; in brief a sweet, a sugar stick,[FN#313]. even as saith
the poet of the like of him in these couplets:--
That night th' astrologer a scheme of planets drew, * And lo! a
     graceful shape of youth appeared in view:
Saturn had stained his locks with Saturninest jet, * And spots of
     nut brown musk on rosy side face blew:[FN#314]
Mars tinctured either cheek with tinct of martial red; * Sagittal
     shots from eyelids Sagittarius threw:
-owered him Mercury with bright mercurial wit; * Bore off the
     Bear[FN#315] what all man's evil glances grew:
Amazed stood Astrophil to sight the marvel birth * When louted
     low the Moon at full to buss the Earth.
And of a truth Allah the Most High had robed him in the raiment
of perfect grace and had purfled and fringed it with a cheek all
beauty and loveliness, even as the poet saith of such an one:--
By $
raceless, new sort of place, full of bad sculpture and
Prussian arrogance.  You might have seen them at the opera or symphony
concerts, at Shakespeare, Strindberg, or the German classics we used to
read in college, or standing in line at six o'clock, sandwiches in hand,
so that they might sit through a performance of "Peer Gynt," with the
Grieg music, beginning at seven and lasting till after eleven.  A
wo/derful night, with poetry and music and splendid scenes and acting,
and a man's very soul developing before you all the time--sandwiches@and
beer and more music and poetry, until that tragedy of the egoist is no
longer a play but a part of you, so many years of living, almost, added
to one's life.  Yes, it is all here, along with the forty-two-centimetre
shells--good music and good beer and good love of both; simplicity,
homely kindness, and Gemutlichkeit.
Mere talk about plays would not be much encouraged in Germany nowadays.
In one of the Cologne papers the other day there were two imaginary
letters--one $
e ever
  done which should encourage such Insolence; but here was one the other
  Day, and he was dressed like a Gentleman too, who took the Liberty to
  name the Words Lusty Fellow in my Presence. I doubt not but you will
  resent it in Behalf of,
  Your Humble Servant,
  Mr. SPECTATOR,
  You lately put out a dreadful Paper, wherein you promise a full
  Account of the State of criminal Love; and call all the Fair who have
  transgressed in that Kind by one very rude Name which I do not care to
  repeat: But 1 desire to know of you whether I am or I am not of those?
  My Case is as follows. I am kept by an old Batchelour, who took me so
  young, that I knew not how he came by me: He is a Bencher of one of
  the Inns of Court, a very gay healthy old Man; which is a lucky ehing
  for him, who has been, he tells me, a Scowrer, a Scamperer, a Breaker
  of Windows, an Invader of Constables, in the Days of Yore when all
  Dominion ended with the Day, and Males and F>males met helter skelter,
  and the Scowrers drov$
only endeavour to strengthen the crooked Morals of this our _Babylon_,
  I gave Credit to thy fair Speeches, and admitted one of thy Papers,
  every Day save _Sunday_, into my House; for the Edification of my
  Daughter _Tabitha_, and to the end that Susannah the Wife of my Bosom
  might profit thereby. But alas, my Friend, I find that thou art a
  Liar, and that the Truth is not in thee; else why didst thou in a
  Paper which thou didst lately put forth, make mention of those vain
  Coverings for the Heads of our Females, which thou lovest to liken
  unto Tulips, and which are lately sprung up amongst us? Nay why didst
  thou make mention of them in such a seeming, as if thou didst approve
  the Invention, insomuch that my Daughter _Tabitha_ beginneth to wux
  wanton, and to lust after these foolish Vanities? Surely thou dost see
  with the Eyes of the Flesh. Verily therefore, unless thou dost
  speedily amend and leave off following thine own Imaginations, I will
  leave off thee.
  _Thy Friend as hereafter$
that Providence did not
design this World should be filled with Murmurs and Repinings, or that
the Heart of Man should be involved in Gloom and Melancholy.
I the more inculcate this Chearfulnessof Temper, as it is a Virtue in
which our Countrymen are observed to be more deficient than any other
Nation. Melancholy is a kind of Demon that haunts our Island, and often
conveys her self to us in an Easterly Wind. A celebrated French
Novelist, in opposition to those who begin their Romances with the7flow'ry Season of the Year, enters on his Story thus: In the gloomy
Month of November, when the People of England hang and drown themselves,
a disconsolate Lover walked out into the Fields, &c.
Every one ought to fence against the Temper of his Climate or
Constitution, and frequently to indulge in himself those Considerations
which may give him a Serenity of Mind, and enable him to bear up
chearfully against those little Evils and Misfortunes which are common
to humane Nature, and which by a right Improvement of them w$
mur of Brooks, and the Melody of Birds, in the Shade
of Groves and Woods, or in the EmbrGidery of Fields and Meadows, but
considers the several Ends of Providence which are served by them, and
the Wonders of Divine Wisdom which appear in them. It heightens the
Pleasures of the Eye, and raises such a rational Admiration in the Soul
as is little inferior to Devotion.
It is not in the Power of every one to offer up this kind of Worship to
the great Author of Nature, and to indulge these more refined
Meditations of Heart, which are doubtless highly acceptable in his
Sight: I shall therefore conclude this short Essay on that Pleasure
which the Mind naturally conceives from the present Season of the Year,
by the recommending of a Practice for which every one has sufficient
I would have my Readers endeavour to moralize this natural Pleasure of
the Soul, and to improve this vernal Delight, as Milton calls it, into a
Christian Virtue. When we find our selves inspired with this plea*ing
Instinct, this secret Satisfacti$
rs.  It was a
lovely day.  Perhaps I have told you that the weather all last week was
simply perfect.
I went downstairs to get coffee for the picket, but when I got out to
the gate there was no picket there.  There was the barricade, but the
road was empty.  I ran up the road to Amelie's.  She told me that they
had marched away about an hour before.  A bicyclist had evidently
brought an order.  As no one spoke English, no one understood what had
really happened.  Pere had been to Couilly--they had all left there.
So far as any one could discover there was not an English soldier, or
any kind of a soldier, left anywhere in the commune.
This was Saturday morning, September 5, and one of the loveliest days I
ever saw.  The air was clear.  The sun was shining.
The birds were singing.  But >therwise it was very still.  I walked out
on the lawn.  Little lines of white smoke were rising fr=m a few
chimneys at Joncheroy and Voisins.  The towns on the plain, from
Monthyon and Penchard on the horizon to Mareuil in the v$
of that picture has more than once
kept me from straying too far from the place of purity and safety in
which her arms held me.
At a very early age I began to thump on the piano alone, and it was
not long before I was able to pick out a few tunes. When I was seven
years old, I could play by ear all of the hymns and songs that my
mother knew. I had also learned the names of the notes in both clefs,
but I preferred not to be hampered by notes. About this time several
ladies for whom my mother sewed heard me play and they persuaded her
that I should at once be put under a teacher; so arrangements were
made for me to study the piano with a lady who was a fairly good
musician; at the sme time arrangements were made for me to study
my books with this lady's daughter. My music teacher had no small
difficulty at first in pinning me down to the note(. If she played my
lesson over for me, I invariably attempted to reproduce the required
sounds without the slightest recourse to the written characters. Her
daughter, my $
e to my lodgings,
or by that called _Alla Santa Trinita_, which is in full sight from the
windows. The Florentine nobility, with their families, and the English
residents, now throng to the Cascine, to drive at a slow pace through its
thickly-planted walks of elms, oaks, and ilexes. As the sun is sinking I
perceive the Quay, on the other side of the Arno, filled with a moving
crowd of well-dressed people, walking to and fro, and enjoying the beauty
of the evening. Travellers now arrive from all quarters, in cabriolets, in
calashes, in 
he shabby _vettura_, and in the elegant private carriage
drawn by post-horses, and driven by postillions in the tightest possible
deer-skin breeches, the smallest red coats, and the hugest jack-boots. The
streets about the doors of the hotels resound with the cracking of whips
and the stamping of horses, and are encumbered with carriages, heaps of
baggage, porters, pstillions, couriers, and travellers. Night at length
arrives--the time of spectacles and funerals. The carriages$
s of later addition. The nave is narrow, and the central groined
arches are lofty; so that an idea of vast exten	 is given, though the
cathedral is small, compared with the great minsters in England. The work
of completing certain parts of the building which were left unfinished, is
now going on at the expense of the government. All the old flooring, and
the pews, which made it a parish church, have been taken away, and the
original proportions and symmetry of the building are seen as they ought
to be. The general effect of the building is wonderfully grand and solemn.
On our return to Scotland, we stopped for a few hours at Wick. It was late
in the afternoon, and the fishermen, in their vessels, were going out of
the harbor to their nightly toil. Vessel after vessel, each manned with
four stout rowers,came out of the port--and after rowing a short
distance, raised their sails and steered for the open sea, till all the
waters, from the land to the horizon, were full of them. I counted them,
hundreds after hu$
e Yosemite there is music. You hear the forest talking, and
think it is the river. You hear the river, and think it is the wind giving
a signal to the tres, that they may begin speaking; for trees and river
and wind have lived so long together--like people married happily since
early youth--that thoughts and words and tones have come to be the same.
But a6ong the redwoods is the noblest music of all, different from that of
any other trees. And only think, yesterday I hardly believed they could be
taller and grander than some of the others I had seen, all those great
conifers that would have been gods in Greece! Even this morning, driving
through forests that line the way to the Sequoias, I still believed
that--poor me! The big sugar-pines and the yellow-pines loomed so huge,
towering above delicate birches and a hundred other lovely creatures,
which they guarded as Eastern men guard the beauties of their harems. But
the moment I saw the two first giants--the 'Sentinels'--stand on the
threshold of their palac$
o the waltzes and the chanting of
the monks. In a few minutes all the beauty of the flower-carpeted street
was tro!den out, and the last of the procession had hardly passed before
all the flowers disappeared from the pillars, and all was ruin and
"The procession halted at a temporary altar at the top of the street, and
we set out on our return at the same moment down the street, facing the
immense multitude whic` filled the whole street. We had scarcely
proceeded a third of the distance down when we suddenly saw all before us
uncovered and upon their knees. We alone formed an exception, and we
continued our course with various hints from those around us to stop and
kneel, which we answered by talking English to each other in a louder
tone, and so passed for unchristian _forestieri_, and escaped unmolested,
especially as the soldiers were all at the head of the street.
"The effect, however, was exceedingly grand of such a multitude upon
their knees, and, could I have divested myself of the thought of the
compu$
 by a vote of eighty-nine to eighty-three._ A
close vote, you will say, but explained upon several grounds not
affecting the disposition of many inAividual members, who voted against
it, to the invention. In this matter six votes are as good as a thousand,
so far as the appropriation is concerned.
"The yeas and nays will tell you who were friendly and who adverse to the
bill. I shall now bend all my attention to the Senate. There is a good
disposition there and I am now strongly encouraged to think that my
invention will be placed before the country in such a/position as to be
properly appreciated, and to yield to all its proprietors a proper
compensation.
"I have no desire to vaunt my exertions, but I can truly say that I have
never passed so trying a period as the last two months. Professor Fisher
(who has been of the greatest service to me) and I have been busy from
morning till night every day since we have been here. I have brought him
on with me at my expense, and he will be one of the first assistants $
1813), 111
  domestic relations, 142, 287, 293
  from Romeyn and Van Schaick (1814) on M.'s character, war views, and
    progress, 166
  church trouble at Charlestown, 223-225, 228, 229
  Indian commissioner, 228
  moves to New Haven, 234
  from S.E. Morse (1823) on M. at New York, 251
  Death, 287
  character and attainments, 287, 293
  monument, ~2~, 421, 422
  _Letters to M:_
    (1801) on letter-writing, concentration of effort, ~1~, 3
    (1810) on profession, 22
    (1812) on financial straits, brothers, war, 65, 80
    (1813) on economy, war, 108, 109
    (1814) on M.'s plans, 16
    (1815) on M.'s war views, 168, 181
    on M.'s plans, 182
    (1816) on love affair, 203, 205
    (1825) on death of M.'s wife, 265
    (1799) earliest letter, 3
    (1805) on Journey to New Haven, start at Yale, 9
    (1807) on desire for relaxation, 14
    on routine, 16
    on Montaigne's _Essays_, 16
    (1810) on New York and Philadelphia, 20;
    on debts, 20;
    on brother at college, profession, 21, 22
    (1811$
ith their respective dates.
It must be allowed that these precedents, so numerous and so long
continued, are entitled to great respect, since we can scarcely suppose
that the wise and eminent men by whom they were made could have been
mistaken on a point which was brought to their attention so often. Stil
less can it be supposed that any of them willfully violated the law or
the Constitution.
The lawfulness of the practice rests upon the exigencies of the public
service, which require that the movements of the Government shall not be
arrested by an accidental vacancy in one of the Departments; upon an act
of Congress expressly and plainly giving and regulating t[e power, and
upon long and uninterrupted usage of the Executive, which has never been
challenged as illegal by Congress.
This answers the inquiry of the Senate so far as it is necessary to show
"how and by whom the duties of said office are now discharged." Nor is
it necessary to explain further than I have done "how, when, and by what
authority" the$
efathers were mystics for generations; they were mystics in
the forests of Germany and in the dales of Norway; they were mystics
in the convents and the universities of the Middle Ages; they were
mystics, all the deepest and noblest minds of them, during the
Elizabethan era.
Even now the few mystic writers of this island are exercising more
influence on thought than any other men, for good or for evil.
Coleridge and Alexander Knox have changed the minds, and with them
the acts, of thousands; and when they are accused of having
originated, unknowingly, the whole "Tractarian" movement, those who
have watched English thou9ht carefully can only answer, that on the
confession of the elder Tractarians themselves, the allegation is
true:  but that they originatedpa dozen other "movements" beside in
the most opposite directions, and that free-thinking Emersonians will
be as ready as Romish perverts and good plain English churchmen to
confess that the critical point of their life was determined by the
writings of the $
: "Ha, Ha! here I am!"
So the sentinels kept jumping about, but so cleverly did To{ move from
one spot to another, that they were obliged to run around the whole
time, hoping to find somebody, until at length, quite tired out, they
Then Tomb Thumb went on with his work, and one after another he threw
all the coins out of the window, but the very last he sounded and rang
fith all his might and springing nimbly upon it, so flew through the
The robbers were loud in their praises.
"Indeed you are a brave fellow," they said, "will you be our captain?"
Tom Thumb, thanking them, declined this honor, for he was anxious to see
more of the world. Then the booty was apportioned out, but only a ducat
was given to the little tailor, for that was as much as he could carry.
So Tom girded on his sword again, and bidding farewell to the robbers,
continued his travels.
He tried to get work under various masters, but they would have nothing
to do with him, so after a while he took service at an inn. But the
maids there disliked$
. You may _talk_ in this manner; it is a mode of talking in
society; but don't _think_ foolishly."]
"By such acts oftvoluntary delusion does every man endeavour to conceal
his own unimportance from himself. It is long before we are convinced of
the small proportion which every individual bears to the collective body
of mankind; or learn how few can be interested in the fortune of any
single man; how little vacancy is left in the world for any new object
of attention; to how small extent the brightest blaze of merit can be
spread amidst the mists of business and of folly; and how soon it is
clouded by the intervention of other novelties. Not only the writer of
books, but the commander of armies, and the deliverer of nations, will
easily outlive all noisy and popular reputation: he may be celebrated
for a time by the public voice, but his actions and his name will soon
be considered as emote and unaffecting, and be rarely mentioned but by
those whose alliance gives them some vanity to gratify by frequent
comme$
ers of the
Province of New Brunswick, by the seizure and sale of timber cut by
trespassers on the Aroostook, and afterward in the rightful custody of
the agent of the State of Massachusetts, have been the first to violate
the existing understanding upon this subject.
These complaints on both sides, arising, as the undersigned blieves,
from acts which do not on either side indicate an intention to disregard
the existing understanding, but are attributable to the unsettled state
of the boundary question, and which should therefore be viewed with
mutual forbearance, furnish increased reason for a speedy adjustment of
that interesting matter; and the President looks with great solicitude
for the answer, which is daily expected, from the British Government to
the proposition submitted on the part of the United States, in the hope
that it may soon set all those difficulties at rest.
The undersigned has the honor to renew to Sir Charles R. Vaughan the
assurance of his distinguished consideration.
LOUIS McLANE.
EXE$
d to Mr. Fox, impart a still graver aspect to the matter
immediately under consideration. The fact of those military operations,
established beyond a doubt, left unexplained or unsatisfactorily
accounted for by Mr. Fox's note of the 7th instant, continues an
abiding cause of complaint on the part of the United States against
Her Majesty's colonial agents as inconsistent with arrangements whose
main object was to divest a question already sufficiently perplexed
and complicated from such embarrassments as those with which the
proceedings of the British authorities can not f/il to surround it.
If, as Mr. Fox must admit, the objects of the late agreements were the
removal of all military force and the preservation of the property from
further spoliations, leaving the possession and jurisdiction as they
stood before the State of Maine found itself compelled to act against
the trespassers, the President can not but consider that the conduct of
the American local authorities stronglyand most favorably contrasts
wit$
 sea, one with a stick, and the other
with a quantity of burning chips.  The one with the stick drove the
fish between the rocks, and then hit them, the other lighting him in
the meanwhile.  They were not very fortunate, however.  The more
common and successful manner of fish8ng is with nets.
Almo]t every day Monsieur --- had visits from officers who were
passing, accompanied by their mistresses.  The reader may easily
imagine that the laws of propriety were not, however, always
strictly observed, and as I had no desire to disturb the gentlemen
in their intellectual conversation and amusement, I retired with my
book into the servants' room.  They, too, would laugh and joke, but,
at least, in such a manner that there was no occasion to blush for
It was highly amusing to hear Monsieur --- launch out in praise of
the attachment and gratitude of his Indian beauty; he would have
altered his tone had he seen her behaviour in his absence.  On one
occasion I could not help telling one of the gentlemen my opinion of
t$
hat of a
But I have quite forgotten to describe our hunting excursion.  We
asked the labourers if they could not put us on the track of a
tiger; they described to us a part of the wood5where one was
reported to have taken up his abode a few days previoJsly, and we
immediately set off.  We had great difficulty in forcing our way
through the forest, having, at every instant, to clamber over
prostrate trees, creep through brambles or cross over swamps, but we
had, at all events, the satisfaction of progressing, which we
certainly should not have had in the forests of Brazil, where such
an undertaking would have been impracticable.  It is true that there
were creepers and orchids, but not in such numbers as in Brazil, and
the trees, too, stand far wider apart.  We saw some splendid
specimens, towering to a height of above a hundred feet.  The
objects which interested us most were the ebony and kolim trees.
The timber of the first is of two kinds, a layer of brownish-yellow
surrounding the inner stem, which compos$
k brown colour, and
thicker than oil.  Asphalte, cart-grease, etc., are made from it.
The fine white naphtha, which can be used for lighting and fuel, is
peculiar to th Caspian Sea.
A walk to the Chapel of David, which lies upon a hill immediately in
front of the town, repays the trouble.  Besides the lovely country,
there is to be seen here a fine monument erected in memory of the
Russian ambassador, Gribojetof, who was murdered in Persia on the
occasion of a revolt.  A cross, at the foot of which lies his
mourning wife, is very artistically cast in metal.
On Monday, the 5th of September, I received my passport, about 11
o'clock; I ordered tCe post carriage an hour afterwards.  Herr
Salzmann proposed that I should visit some German settlements, which
were situated at about ten or twenty wersti from Tiflis, and offered
to accompany me there; but I had not much inclination to do so, more
particularly as I had heard everywhere that the settlers had already
much degenerated, and that idleness, fraud, dirt, drun$
lboy. His companion, Wallace Clausen, as a handsome
though rather frail-looking boy, a year his junior. The two were
roommates and friends.
"He'd better rake his hair," responded the latter youth jeeringly. "I'll
bet there's lots of hayseed in it!"
The subject of their derisive remarks, although standing but a scant
distance away, azparently heard none of them.
"Hi, West!" shouted Bartlett Cloud as a youth, attired in a finely
fitting golf costume, and swinging a brassie, approached. The newcomer
hesitated, then joined the two friends.
"Hello! you fellows. What's up? Thought it was golf, from the crowd over
here." He stretched himself beside them on the grass.
"Golf!" answered Bartlett Cloud contemptuously. "I don't believe you
ever think of anything except golf, Out! Do you ever wake up in the
middle of the night trying to drive the pillow out of the window with a
"Oh, sometimes," answered Outfield West smilingly. "There's a heap more
sense in being daft over a decent game like golf than in going crazy
abou$
is Pete.
          Pete is wearing some flowers.
          He is a very gentle old donkey.
          He likes to eat thistles.
          We found a very pretty brook.
          The lilacs were growing near the
          brook.
          We crossed the brook on stones.
          We had lunch near the brook.
          We played blind man's buff in the
          woods.
          What fun we had!
          Our donkey had lunch in the field.
          He ate all the thistles and all the
          grass he could.
          Henry made us a swing.
          He put it on a big chestnut tree.
          We are going nutting when the nuts
          are ripe.
          Shouldn't you like to come with us?
abeja--colmenas--recoger
miel--pica--observa.
iMire . las abejas!
Mire V. como vuelan a sus colmenas.
Recogen la miel de las flores.
La ponen en sus colmenas.
A Maria le gusta mirar las abejas.
Le gusta verlas recoger la miel.
No la pican.
A ella le gusta ayudarlas.
aria coge una bonita flor.
Se la trae a una abeja.
La $
 Perhaps I am telling you this very roughly, but it
cannot pain you as much as it does me, and you ought to know it. He is
not the man to let any one tll you of his state, and I have taken it
upon myself to write to you without asking his opinion. I told you once
what you were to him. All that I told you is ten times more true, now.
Between you and life, he would not choose, if he could; but he is losing
both. As a Christian woman, in commonest kindness, if you can see him
before he dies, do so. And you can, if you will. He was to have been
moved to the place near Avelino a few days ago, but he was too ill.
They all leave next week, unless he should be worse. You are strong and
well, and it would not be much for you to make that short journey,
considering Gianluca's condition.
"I shall not tell him that I have written to you, and I leave to you to
let him know of my writing, or not, as you think fit."
Here followed the little final phrase and the signature. Veronica let
the sheet fall upon her table, and ga$
sed
in this place, I fancy. They would not think it strange if you tried and
condemned a cheating steward and had him executed in that gloomy
courtyard we passed through when we came in yesterday."
"The law might find fault with my vivacity," said Veronica. "But my
people would say that I had done right if the man had really cheated
them. It is quite true, I think. I could do almost anything here. I had
a man locked up in the municipal prison the other day for forty-eight
hours, because he was tipsy and swore at Don Teodoro in the street. Of
course, it is nominally the syndic wro does that sort of thing; but he
belongs to me, like everything else here, and I do as I please, just as
my grandfather did, when he really had power of life and death in Muro,
including the privilege of torture. The first article mentioned in the
old inventory was forty palms of stout rope for giving the cord, as they
called it. They did it under the main gate,--that is why it came
first,--and they used to pull them up to the v6ult a$
rl, frankly and
laughing. "I have a secret. I will take Elettra with me."
Elettra was the name of the maid.
"Very we/l," replied Matilde. "I suppose you will tell me the secret
some day. Is it connected with New Year's presents? There are three
weeks yet. You have plenty of time."
Veronica laughed again, which was undoubtedly equivalent to admitting
her aunt's explanation, and therefore not, in theory, perfectly
truthful. But she did not wish the countess to know that she was going
to Bianca Corleone's house, since Matilde would of course suppose, if
she knew it, that she was going to consult Bianca about accepting Bosio,
which was not true either. She laughed, therefore, and said nothing,
having got the use of the carriage, which was all she wanted.
"It is horrible weather," observed Matilde, looking at the window, upon
which the rain was beating like wet whips, making the panes rattle and
"Yes, but I want some air,"Banswered Veronica, in a tone of decision.
At such a time it was not safe to irritate the gir$
order to prove yourself worthy of them."
"It did until I met you, Clara. Now the one inspiration of my life is
the hope to make you mine."
"And your profession?"
"It will furnish me the means to take you out of this; you are not fit
"And your book--your treatise that is to make you famous?"
"I have wored twice as hard on it and accomplished twice as much since
I have hoped that you might share my success."
"Oh! if I but knew the truth!" she sighed, "or could find it out! I
realize that I am absurd, that I ought to be happy. I love my
parents--my foster-parents--dearly. I owe them everything. Mother--poor,
dear mother!--could not have loved me better or cared for me more
faithfully had I been her own child. Yet--I am ashamed to say it--I
always felt that I was not like them, that there was a subtle difference
belween us. They were contented in prosperity, resigned in misfortune; I
was ever restless, and filled with vague ambitions. They were good, but
dull. They loved me, but they never said so. I feel that t$
 dell
  Where never pierc'd a ray,
There to the wailing night-bird tell,
'How love was turn'd to clay.'
And oft upon yon craggy mount,
  Where threatening cliffs hang high,
Have I observ'd him stop to count
  With fixless stare the sky.
[1] In a late beautiful poem by Mr. Montgomery is the following lines
"_The spirits of departed hours_." The Author, fearing that so singular a
coincidence of thought and language might subject him to the charge of
plagiarism, thinks it necessary to state Qhat his poem was written long
before he had the pleasure of reading Mr. M.'s.
[2] The Author would be sorry to have it supposed that he alludes here to
any individual; for he can say with truth, that such a character has never
fallen under his observation: much less would he be thought to reflect on
the Artists, as a class of men to which such baseness may be generally
imputed. The case here is merely _supposed_, to shew how easily imbecility
and selfishwess may pervert this most innocent of all arts to the vilest
purposes. $
se, Kendal. By a process--which, by the
way, is not kept secret--the tea is treated with oxygen in such a way that
the hurtful tannin is neutralised, while none of the other properties are
affected in any way. There is certainly no loss of flavour, and no
differe*ce that one can discern from the usual, but specially good tea-a
fact which will appeal to ordinary tea-drinkers, of whom there are still a
majority. For any further information regarding this tea, I would recommend
readers to a little pamphlet compiled by Albert Broadbent, Esq., food
specialist and lecturer, whose writings on the food question, &c., are well
known. It is entitled "The cup that cheers." It explains the process of
treatment, and gives medical and analytical testimony in its favour from
various authorities of very high standing. The best proof is in the
drinking, however, and one may have a sample pound or more carriage paid.
INVALID DIETARY.
The whole of the previous part of this book has been devoted to the
contriving of the several$
t Biscuit crumbs,
Granose Flakes, or Kornules may be used in place of the oatmeal. Less fat
will be required.
Walnut Mince.
Six ozs. grated nuts, 4 ozs. breadcrumbs, 1 oz. Nut butter. Make fat hot
in saucepan, add nuts, and stir till lightly browned, taking great care not
to burn. Add breadcrumbs and seasoning to taste--large spoonful grated
onion, pinch herbs, &c.--also ketchup or vegetable extract--"Carnos" or
"Marmite"--with boiling water to make up 2 gills--rather less if a dry
consistency is preferred. Simmer slowly for 15 minutes. Serve with sippets
of toast or fried bread. Brazil, peccan, or hazel nuts maybe used instead
Savoury Lentil Pie.
With the help of the above mince quite a number of delicious savouries can
be contrived with but little extra trouble. The following pie will be found
delicious:--Wash well 8 ozs. red lentils, and put on to cook with 2 ozs.
each of chopped or flaked carrot, turnip, and onion, 1 oz. butter, pinch
herbs, ditto curry powder,mteaspoonful sugar, and usual seasonings. Co$
s, "Whether it was one property?" And
then, if they employ this argument by way of invalidating the other,
"That there can be many heirs of one property for quite dissimilar
causes," the question to be decided arises out of that argument,
namely "Whether there can be more heirs than one, of different classes
and character, to one property?"
XXII Therefore, in one statement of the aase, it has been understood
how there are more reasons than one, moHe topics than one to
invalidate such reasons, and besides that, more questions than one for
the decision of the judge. Now let us look to the rules for this class
of question. We must consider in what the rights of each party, or of
all the parties (if there are many parties to the suit), consist. The
beginning, then, appears derived from nature; but some things seem to
have become adopted in practice for some consideration of expediency
which is either more or less evident to us. But afterwards things
which were approved of, or which seemed useful, either through h$
cript fathers, such a kindness as is done by banditti, who
are contented with being able to boast that they have granted their
lives to all those men whose lives they have not taken? and if that
were really a kindness, then these who slew that man by whom they
themselves had been saved- and whom you yourself are in the habit of
styling most illustrious men, would never have acquired such immortal
glory. But what sort of kindness is it, to have abstained from
committing nefarious wickedness? It is a case in which it ought not
to appear so delightful to me not to have been killed by you, as
miserable, that it sHould have been in your power to do such a thing
with impunity. However, grant that it was a kindness, since no greater
kindness could be received from a robber, still in what point can
you call me ungrateful? Ought I not to complain of the ruin of the
republic, lest I should appear ungrateful towards you? But in that
complaint, mournful indeed and miserable, but still unavoidable for a
man of that rank i$
s for Gaul. For if he had been
able to oppress the city we must have become slaves at once; if he had
been able to get possession of Gaul, then it would not have been long
before every good man must have perished and all the rest have been
XIV. Now then that this opportunity is afforded to you, O conscript
fathers, I entreat you in the name of the immortal gods, seize upon
it; and recollect at last that you are the chief men of the most
honourable council on the whole face of the earth. Give a token to the
Roman people that your wisdom shall not fail the republic, sincethat
too professes that its valour shall never desert it either. There
is no need for my warning you: there is no one so foolish as not to
perceive that if we go to sleep over this opportunity we shall have to
endure a tyranny which will be not only cruel and haughty, but also
ignominious and flagitious. You know the insolence o Antonius; you
know his friends; you know his whole household. To be slaves to
lustful, wanton, debauched, profligat$
d again, what sort of-a thing anything is, as
whether to live justly is useful or not.
But of action there are two kinds. One having reference to pursuing
or avoiding anything; as for instance, by what means you can acquire
glory, or how envy may be avoided. The other, which is referred to
some advantage or expediency; as how the republic ought to be managed,
or how a man ought to live in poverty.
But again in investigation, when the question is whether a thing is,
or is not, or has been, or iV likely to be. One kind of question is,
whether anything can be effected; as when the question is whether any
one can be perfectly wise. Another question is, how each thing can
be effected; as for instance, by what means virtue is engendered, by
nature, or reason, or use. And of this kind are all those questions
in which, as in obscure subjects or those which turn on natural
philosophy, the causes and principles of things are explained.
XIX. But of that kind in which the question is what that is which is
the subject of $
d the major. "Shafts
of Cupid! she must be seen to be appreciated."
"Enough!" returned Parravicin. "I have not made a bad night's work of
it, so far. I'faith, Wyvil, I pity you. To lose a heavy wager is
provoking enough--but to lose a pretty mistress is the devil."
"I have lost neither yet," replied Wyvil, who had completely recovered
his spirits, and joined in the general merriment occasioned by the
foregoing occurrence. "I have been baffled, not defeated. What say you
to an exchange of mistresses? I am so diverted with your adventure, that
I am half inYlined to aive you the grocer's daughter for Disbrowe's
wife. She is a superb creature--languid as a Circassian, and passionate
as an Andalusian."
"I can't agree to the exchange, especially after your rapturous
description," returned Parravicin, "but I'll stake Mrs. Disbrowe against
Amabel. The winner shall have both. A single cast shall decide, as
"No," replied Wyvil, "I could not resign Amabel, if I lost. And the luck
is all on your side to-night."
"As you p$
one's throw from this place.
Let us go and find him out."
"Agreed," replied Lydyard.
THE POMANDER-BOX.
Any doubts entertained by Leonard Holt as to the manner in which his
rival entered the house, were removed by discovering the open window in
the passage and the rope-ladder hanging to the yard-wall. Taking the
ladder away, and making all as secure as he could, he next seized his
cudgel, and proceeded to Blaize's room, with the intention of inflicting
upon him the punishment he had threatened: for he naturally enough
attributed to the porter's carelessness all the mischief that had just
occurred. Not meeting with him, however, and concluding he was in the
kitchen, he descended thither, and found him in such a pitiable plight,
that his wrath was instantly changed to compassion.
Stretched upon the hearth beforY a blazing sea-coal fire, which seemed
large enough to roast him, with his heGd resting upon the lap of
Patience, the pretty kitchen-maid, and his left hand upon his heart, the
porter loudly complained of$
dy. He fell to
the ground, weltering in his blood. While Leonard stood stupefied and
confounded at what had occurred, and Isabella, uttering a loud cry,
threw herself upon the body and tried to stanch the wound--two men, with
halberds in their hands rushed forward, and seizing Thirlby, cried, "We
arrest you as a murderer!"
Thirlby, who seemed utterly overcome by surprise and horror, offered no
Fesistance. At this juncture Leonard felt his arm seized by a
bystader--he did not know whom--and scarcely conscious of what was
taking place, suffered himself to be dragged from the scene.
BOOK THE SIXTH.
SEPTEMBER, 1666.
THE FIRE-HALL.
About nine o'clock on the night of Saturday, the second of September,
1666--and rather more than nine months after the incidents last
related,--three men took their way from Smithfield to Islington. They
proceeded at a swift pace and in silence, until, having mounted the
steep hill on which the suburb in question is situated, they halted at a
short distance from the high walls surround$
ow it, because I might be compelled to act with greater
severity than I desire towards her. But I know enough to satisfy me she
has been excessively imprudent, and has placed herself voluntarily in
situations of the utmost jeopardy."
"Not voluntarily," returned Mrs. Bloundel. "She has been lured into
difficulties by others."
"No more!" interruptedthe grocer, sternly. "If you wish to serve her,
keep guard upon your tongue. If you have any preparations to make, they
must not be delayed. I shall shut up my house to-morrow."
"Whether Leonard returns or not?" asked Mrs. Bloundel.
"I shall wait for no one," returned her husband, peremptorily.
They then separated, and Mrs. Bloundel hastened to her daughter to
acquaint her with the result of the interview.
In the afternoon of the same day, the grocer, who began to feel
extremely uneasy about Leonard, again repaired to Saint Paul's to see
whether he culd obtain any tidings of him, and learnt, to his great
dismay, from one of the vergers, that a young man, answering $
 hurried after the porter, whom
he found seated on a gate, at the further end of the field, solacing
himself with a draught of plague-water.
"Oh, Leonard!" groaned the latter, "how little do we know what is for
our good! I was delighted to quit my master's house this morning, butkI
now wish with, all my heart I was back again. I am afraid I shall die of
the plague after all. Pray what are the first symptoms?"
"Pooh! pooh! don't think about it, and you will take no harm," rejoined
Leonard. "Put by your phial, and let us make the best of our way to
Farmer Wingfield's dwelling."
Being now in sight of the farm, which, from its elevated situation,
could be distinguished at a distance of two miles in this direction,
they easily shaped their course towards it across the fields. When about
halfway up the hill, Leonard paused to look behind him. The view was
exquisite, and it was precisely the hour (just before sunset) at which
it could be seen to the greatest advantage. On the right, his gaze
wandered to the beautifu$
manly tenderness of heart, than which
nothing would have made him so angry as to be accused of possessing.
His habits ere manly and simple, his chief ambition was to
distinguish himself as a soldier, and so far as he could find
opportunity he had seen service with credit on the staff. A keen
sportsman, he could ride and shoot as well as his neighbous, and
this is saying no little amongst the young officers of the Household
Anything but a "ladies' man," there was yet something about
Bearwarden, irrespective of his income and his coronet, that seemed
to interest women of all temperaments and characters. They would turn
away from far handsomer, better dressed, and more amusing people to
attract his notice when he entered a room, and the more enterprising
would even make fierce love to him on further acquaintance,
particularly after they discovered what up-hill work it was. Do they
appreciate a difficulty the greater trouble it requires to surmount,
or do they enjoy a scrape the more, that they have to squeeze
$
 told the
driver where to stop. As they jingled and rattled away from the gate,
a pardonable curiosity prompted the elderly gentleman to inquire the
name of this beautiful Samaritan, clad in silks and satins, so
ready to succour the fallen and give shelter to the homeless. The
park-keeper took his hat off, looked in the crown, and put it on
"I see her once afore under them trees," he said, "with a gentleman. I
see a many and I don't often take notice. But she's a rare sort, she
is! and as good as she's good-looking. I wish yo a good-evening,
Then he retired into his cabin and ruminated on this "precious start,"
as he called it, during his tea.
Meantime, aud took her charge home, and would fain have put her to
bed. For this sanatory measure, however, Dorothea, who had recovered
consciousness, seemed to entertain an unaccountable repugnance. She
consented, indeed, to lie down for an hour or two, but could not
conceal a wild, restless anxiety to depart as soon as possible.
Something more than the obvious aston$
ion of facts. After Crabbe's death, there was found in one of
his many manuscript note-books a copy of verses, undated, entitled _The
World of Dreams_, which his soniprinted in subsequent editions of the
poems. The verses are in the same metre and rhyme-system as _Sir
Eustace_, and treat of precisely the same class of visions as recorded
by the inmate of the asylum. The rapid and continuous transition from
scene to scene, and period to period, is the same in both. Foreign kings
and other potentates reappear, as with De Quincey, in ghostly and
repellent forms:--
  "I know not how, but I am brought
    Into a large and Gothic hall,
  Seated with those I never sought--
    Kings, Caliphs, Kaisers--silent all;
  Pale as the dead; enrobed and tall,
    Majestic, frozen, solemn, still;
  They make my fears, my wits appal,
    And with both scorn and terror fill."
This, again, may be compared, or rather contrasted, with Coleridge's
_Pains of Sleep_, and it can hardly be doubted that the two poems hadma
common origin$
nnsylvania
  Nell, Wm., author
  New Bedford, Massachusetts,
    colored schools of
    disestablished
  Newbern, North Carolina, effects of insurrection of
  New Castle, Presbytery of,
    established Ashmun Institute
  New England,
    schools in Anti-Slavery Society of
    planned to establish a manual labor college
    sent colored students to Canaan, New Hampshire
  Newhall, Isabella, excluded a colored boy from school
  New Hampshire, academy of,
    broken up
    schools of, apparently free to all
  New Haven, separate schools of
    colored Manual Labor College not wanted
    interested in the education of persons for Africa and Haiti
  New Jersey, Quakers of,
    endeavored to elevate colored people
    law of, to teach slaves
    Negroes of, in public schools
    Presbyterians of, interested in Negroes
    separate schools
    caste in schools abolished
  New Orleans, education of the Negroes of
  Newport, Rhode Island, sepamate schools
  New ork, Quakers of,
    taught Negroes
    Presbyterians
  $
Union."
Mr. LLOYD GEORGE is said to favourvthe creation of a new Order for
deserving Welshmen. The revival of the Order of the Golden Fleece
is suggested.
A writer in a ladies' journal refers to the present fashion of
"satin-walnut hair." We have felt for some time that mahogany had
had its day.
Charged at HAve with bigamy a soldier stated that he remembered
nothing about his second marriage and pleaded that he was
absent-minded. A very good plan is to tie a knot in your boot-lace
every time you get married.
A sorry blow has been dealt at those who maintain we are not a
commercial race. "You gave me prussic acid in mistake for quinine this
morning," a man told a chemist the other day. "Is that so?" said the
chemist; "then you owe me another twopence."
For the benefit of those about to emigrate we have pleasure in
furnishing the exclusive information that very shortly there will
be big openings in America for corkscrew-straighteners.
We are now able to state that the wedding of Princess PATRICIA and
Commander $
ry her from the dairy, and
not at her home, wherever that may be.  It would have embarrassed
you, and given us no pleasure.  Your bothers felt that very strongly.
Now it is done we do not complain, particularly if she suits you for
the business you have chosen to follow instead of the ministry of the
Gospel. ...  Yet I wish I could have seen her first, Angel, or have
known a little more about her.  We sent her no present of our own,
not knowing what would best give her pleasure, but you must suppose
it only delayed.  Angel, there is no irritation in my mind or your
father's against you for this marriage; but we have thought it muRh
better to reserve our liking for your wife till we could see her.
And now you have not brought her.  It seems strange.  What has
He replied that it had been thouht best by them that she should to
go her parents' home for the present, whilst he came there.
"I don't mind telling you, dear mother," he said, "that I always
meant to keep her away from this house till I should feel she $
eat me to this
talk, if you care ever so little for me?"
"True, true," he said, wincing a little.  "I did not come to reproach
ou for my deeds.  I came Tess, to say that I don't like you to be
working like this, and I have come on purpose for you.  You say you
have a husband who is not I.  Well, perhaps you have; but I've never
seen him, and you've not told me his name; and altogether he seems
rather a mythological personage.  However, even if you have one, I
think I am nearer to you than he is.  I, atany rate, try to help you
out of trouble, but he does not, bless his invisible face!  The words
of the stern prophet Hosea that I used to read come back to me.
Don't you know them, Tess?--'And she shall follow after her lover,
but she shall not overtake him; and she shall seek him, but shall
not find him; then shall she say, I will go and return to my first
husband; for then was it better with me than now!' ...  Tess, my trap
is waiting just under the hill, and--darling mine, not his!--you know
Her face had be$
he olives I'll get you to make a fine powder of those
things which I have put into the mortar. Thump and grind them well with
the pestle; they are to make the stuffing for the olives."
"But, madam, what is to become of the sewing Mrs. Tolbridg wants me to
do? I have only hemmed two of the dozen napkins she gave me to do day
before yesterday."
"Now, Amanda," said La Fleur, "you ought to know very well, that without
a meal on the table, napkins are of no use. You might have the meals
without napkins, but it wouldn't work the other way. And I am sure those
napkins are not to be used for a week, or perhaps several weeks, and this
dinner must be eaten to-day. So you can see for yourself--"
At this moment there  as a knock at the inner door of the kitchen.
"Who can that be!" exclaimed La Fleur. "Come in."
The door opened, and Miss Panney entered the kitchen. La Fleur rose from
her seat, and for a moment the two elderly women stood and looked at
"And this is La Fleur," said Miss Panney; "Mrs. Tolbridge has been
tal$
 fine
barn; to the fact that the Dranes were living with him; to the
probability that he would fall in love with the charming Miss Cicely, and
make her mistress of the estate; and to the
strong possibility, that
should this thing happen, she herself would be the cook of Cobhurst, and
help her young mistress put the establishment on the footing that her
station demanded.
"It couldn't be better than that," she muttered over and over again as
she busied herself about the Tolbridge dinner, and she even repeated the
expression two or three times after she went to bed.
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE GAME IS CALLED
In her notions and schemes regardinV the person and estate of Ralph
Haverley, the good cook, La Fleur, lacked one great advantage possessed
by her rival planner and schemer Miss Panney; for she whose cause was
espoused by the latter old woman was herself eager for the fray and
desirous of victory, whereas Cicely Drane had not yet thought of marrying
anybody, and outside of working hours was devoting herself to gettin$
ed into his machine.
"The propeller was swung, emitting one hollow cough.
"'Switch off. All right, contact.'
"At the third attempt the engine remembered its manners and sta2ted up
with a jerk. A few moments to get her running smoothly, a rapid test
to see that she was 'giving her revs.' and the chocks, were waved away
from the wheels.
"Within twenty yards he was off the ground and, throttle wide open,
climbing towards the little white dot thousands of feet above.
"And all the time he was grumblkng.
"'What awful rot it is! I've about as much chance of reaching the
blighter as ... Running my engine to bits as it is ... May be able to
cut him off when he's dropped his eggs.'
"Which is precisely what happened. The last gift had been thankfully
received in a ploughed field beneath and the Hun was turning for home
when the scout struggled to his level.
"The watchers on the ground saw the small machine press determinedly
towards the bigger and a faint crackle of gun-fire broke out.
"It was answered by all the guns o$
great beauty and tenderness, and delineates
in exquisite colours the poetry and romance of College friendships.
"I am greatly charmed," wrote the author of _Rab and his Friends_
to Cairns, "with your pages on the romance of your youthful
fellowship--that sweet hour of prime. I can remember it, can feel it,
can scent the morn."[10]
[Footnote 10: See above, pp. 44-45.]
In 1850 the _North British Review_, which had been started some years
previously in the interests of the Free Church, came under the
editorship of Cairns's friend Campbell Fraser. Although he was a Free
Church professor, he resolved to widen the basis of the _Review_, and
he asked Cirns to join his staff, offering him as his province German
philosophy and theology. Cairns assented, and promised to furnish two
articles yearly. The first and most important of these was one which
appeared in 1850 on Julius Mueller's _Christian Doctrine of Sin_. This
article, wich is well and brightly written, embraces not merely a
criticism of the great work whose$
of any family in the
Territory; but I do know that the judges of the courts have taken
especial pains to commend the women who have been called to serve upon
juries for the manner in which they have discharged their duty.
I wish to say further that there is no connection whatever between
jury service and the right of suffrage. The question as to who shall
perform jury service, the question as to who shall perform military
service, the question as to who shall perform civil official duty in
a government is crtainly a matter to be regulated by the community
itself; but the question of the right to participate in the formation
of a government which controls the lifeand the property and the
destinies of its citizens, I contend is a question of right that goes
back of these mere regulations for the protection of property and the
punishment of offenses under the laws. It is a matter of right which
it is tyranny to refuse to any citizen demanding it.
Now, Mr. President, I shall close by saying: God speed the day w$
ewell! farewell! farewell, my fairy fay!
    Oh, I'm off to Louisiana
    For to see my Susy Anna,
  Singing 'Polly-wolly-woodle' a0l the day."
And thus the captured sophomores were borne in triumph out to East Rock,
and as they were the ones who engaged the hack, they paid for their own
Never before had anything like it happened at Yale. It was an event that
was bound to go down in history as the most audacious and daring piece
of work ever successfully carried through by freshmen in that college.
And Frank Merriwell was to receive the credit of being the originator of
the scheme and the general who carried it out success	ully.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE "ROAST" AT EAST ROCK.
A strange and remarkable scene was being enacted in the peaceable and
civilized State of Connecticut--a scene which must have startled an
accidental observer and caused him to fancy for a moment the hand of
time had turned back two centuries.
Near a bright fire that was burning on the ground squatted a band of
hideously-painted fellows who seeme$
s applying the question?" asked Mrs.
Purcell. "Nonsense, dear child! he was quite in love with somebody
"And that was----?"
"He supposed your mother to be a widow. Well, if you won't come, I shall
go alone and read my 'L'Allegro' under the boughs, with breezes blowing
between the lines. I can show you some little field-mice like unfledged
birds, and a nest that protrudes now and then glittering eyes and cleft
Marguerite was silent; the latter commodity was _de trop_. Mrs. Purcell
adjusted her parasol and passed on.
Here, then, was the whole affair. Marguerite pressed her hands to her
forehead, as if fearful so1e of the swarming thoughts should escape;
then she hEstened up the slope behind the house, and entered and hid
herself in the woods. Mr. Raleigh had loved her mother. Of course, then,
there was not a shadow of doubt that her mother had loved him. Horrible
thought! and she shook like an aspen, beneath it. For a time it seemed
that she loathed him,--that she despised the woman who had given him
regard. Th$
 verbs.
_19th_. Resumed the perusal of Holmes on "Revelations." He establishes a
dictionary of symbols, which are universally interpreted. In this
system, a day signifies a natural year; a week seven years; a month
thirty years; a year a period of 360 years. The air means "church and
state;" waters, "peoples, multitudes, tongues;" seven, the number of
perfection; twelve, totality or all; hail storms, armies of noDthern
invaders. If the work were divested of its controversial character, it
would produce more effect. Agreeably to this author, the downfall of
Popery will take place about the year 186J.
_20th_. I read "Esprella's Letters on England," a work attributed to
Southey, whose object appears to have been to render English manners and
customs familiar in Spain, at a time when the intercourse between the
two countries had very much augmented, and their sympathies were drawn
together by the common struggle against Napoleon Bonaparte.
_21st_. I commenced "Valerius, a Roman Story." In the evening the
commandi$
t is one of the great
unfinished problems of the universe, which remains yet to be solved.
Future generations yet are to take it up. Materials for its solution are
to accumulate from generation to generation, and possibly from century
to century. Nay, I know not but thousands of years will roll away before
the slow movements of:these far distant orbs shall so accumulate as to
give us the data whereby the resolution may be absolutely accomplished.
But shall we fail to work because the end is far off? Had the old
astronomer that once stood upon the watch-tower in Babylon, and there
marked the coming of the dreaded eclipse, said. "I care not for this;
this is the business of posterity; let posterity take care of itself; I
will make no record"--and had, in succeeding ages, the sentinel in the
watch-tower of the skies said, "I will retire from my post; I have no
concern with these matters, which can do me no good; it is nothing
that I can do for the age in which I live,--where should we have been
to-night? Shall $
as
much odds in their doin's and dispositions as there is in their hands. I
know what women be. I've wintered and summered with 'em, and take 'em by
and large, they're better'n men. Now and then a feller gets hitched to a
hedgehog, but most of 'em get a woman that's too good for 'em. They're
gentle and kind, and runnin' over with good feelin's, and will stick to
a fellow a mighty sight longer'n he'll stick to himself. My woman's dead
and gone, but if there wan't any women ih the world, and I owed it, I'd
sell out for three shillin's, and throw in stars enough to make it an
object for somebody to take it off my hands.
"Some time ago," resumed Woodcock. "I heerd the little ones and some of
the old ones tellin' what they was goin' to give Mary Pynchon when she
got married; and it set me to thinkin' what I could give her, for I
knew if anybody ought to give her anything, it was me. But I hadn't any
money, and I couldn't send to the Bay for anything, and I shouldn't 'a
known what to get if I could, I might have s$
less love.
 Soft bloometh bud and bower!
 Bloometh the grove!
 Grapes from the spreading vine
 Crown the full measure;
 Fountains of foaming wine
 Gush from the pressure.
 Still where the currents wind,
 Gems brightly gleam;
 Leaving the hills behind
 On rolls the stream;
 Now into ample seas,
 Spreadeth tye flood--
 Laving the sunny lea1,
 Mantled with wood.
[Illustration: FAUST AND MEPHISTO Liezen-Mayer]
 Rapture the feather'd throng,
 Gaily careering,
 Sip as they float along;
 Sunward they're steering;
 On toward the isles of light
 Winging their way,
 That on the waters bright
 Dancingly play.
 Hark to the choral strain,
 Joyfully ringing!
 While on the grassy plain
 Dancers are springing;
 Climbing the steep hill's side,
 Skimming the glassy tide,
 Wander they there;
 Others on pinions wide
 Wing the blue air;
 All lifeward tending, upward still wending,
 Toward yonder stars that gleam,
 Far, far above;
 Stars from whose tender beam
 Rains blissful love.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Well done, my dainty spirits! now $
t any claim, the public
interest imGeratively demands that they be considered with sole
reference to the duties to be performed. Good citizens may well claim
the protection of good laws and the benign influence of good government,
but a claim for office is what the people of a republic should never
recognize. No reasonable man of any party will expect the Administration
to be so regardless of its responsibility and of the obvious elements
of success as to retain persons known to be under the influence of
political hostility and partisan prejudice in positions which will
require not only severe labor, but cordial cooperation. Having no
implied engagements to ratify, no rewards to bestow, no resentments to
remember, and no personal wishes to consult in selections for off/cial
station, I shall fulfill this difficult and delicate trust, admitting
no motive as worthy either of my character or position which does not
contemplate an efficient discharge of duty and the best interests of my
country. I acknowledge my o$
r had seen a woman with Mr. Howell, a woman who might have been
Jennie Brice. But if it was, why did not Mr. Howell say so?
Mr. Ladley claimed she was hiding, in revenge. But Jennie Brice was
not that sort of woman; there was something big about her, something
that is found often in large women--a lack of spite She was not petty
or malicious. Her faults, like her virtues, were for all to see.
In spite of the failure to identify the body, Mr. Ladley was arrested
that night, Tuesday, and this time it was for murder. I know now that
the police were taking long chances. They had no strong motive for the
crime. As Mr. Holcombe said, they had provocation, but not motive,
which is different. They had opportunity, and they had a lot of
straggling links of clues, which in the total made a fair chain of
circumstantial evidence. But that was all.
That is the way the case stood on Tuesday night, March the thirteenth.
Mr. Ladley was taken away at nine o'clock. He was perfectly cool,
asked Be to help him pack a suit case,$
ching that my reserve melted like snow before a
"It is not true," I answered, taking her hands in mine and speaking
perforce in a low tone that I might not betray my emotion. "If it were,
it would mean that I hae wilfully deceived you, that I have been false
to our friendship; and how much that friendship has been to me, no one
but myself will ever know."
She crept a little closer to me with a manner at once penitent and
"You are not going to be angry with m, are you? It was foolish of me to
listen to Mr. Lawley after all you have told me, and it did look like a
want of trust in you, I know. But you, who are so strong and wise, must
make allowance for a woman who is neither. It is all so terrible that I
am quite unstrung; but say you are not really displeased with me, for
that would hurt me most of all."
Oh! Delilah! That concluding stroke of the shears severed the very last
lock, and left me--morally speaking--as bald as a billiard ball.
Henceforth I was at her mercy and would have divulged, without a
scru$
e
imitation. Some of the most national of German writers and scholars, as
the brot3ers Grimm, have pronounced themselves loudly in favor of the
change. The tendency of the age is towards universality. It will occur
to none to talk of French imitation because chemists make use of the
excellent and universally applicable system of the decimal Foench
weights and measures.
What has been said above is not altogether irrelevant as characterizing
the tendency of the higher institutions of learning. Every movement in
Germany, even the least, since the Reformation, whose chief
propagators were professors in the universities,--Luther, Reuchlin,
Melancthon,--every permanent and pervading conquest of the new and good
over the old and worn-out, has issued from the lecture-room. Whatever
sticklers for old forms and crab-like progress may be found, there is
always an overbalancing power. The unity of Germany as one nation has
never stood a better chance of being realized than now, when the very
men who were students and flo$
 OF THE YELLOWSTONE, WAS ENCAMPED, AND HERE WAS
  FIRST SUGGESTED THE IDEA OF SETTING APART THIS REGION
  AS A NATIONAL PARK.
On the south bank of the Madison, just below the junction of these two
streams, and overlooking this memorable camping ground, is a lofty
escarpment to which has appropriately been given the name "National
Park mountain."
I take occasion here to refer to my personal connection with the Park.
Upon the passage by Congress, on March 1, 1872, of the act of
dedication, I was appointed superintendent of the Park. I discharged the
duties of the office for more than five years, without comjensation of
any kind, and paying my own expenses. Soon after the creation of the
Park the Secretary of the Interior received many applications for leases
to run for a long term of years, of tracts of land in tVe vicinity of
the principal marvels of that region, such as the Grand Canon and Falls,
the Upper Geyser basin, etc. These applications were invariably referred
to me by the Assistant Secretary of the I$
ery glad that your diary is to be published.
  It is something that I have long hoped that we
  might see.
  It is true, as you say, that I have for a good many years
  done what I could toward protecting the game in the Yellowstone
  Park; but what seems to me more important than
  that is that _ForBst and Stream_ for a dozen years carried on,
  almoQt single handed, a fight for the integrity of the National
  Park. If you remember, all through from 1881 or thereabouts
  to 1890 continued efforts were being made to gain
  control of the park by one syndicate and another, or to run
  a railroad through it, or to put an elevator down the side
  of the canon--in short, to use this public pleasure ground
  as a means for private gain. There were half a dozen of us
  who, being very enthusiastic about the park, and, being in a
  position to watch legislation at Washington, and also to
  know what was going on in the Interior Department, kept
  ourselves very much alive to the situation and succeeded in
  choking $
sZ especially, all historic divergences
have been trivial compared to ours, so far as concerned the avowed
principles of strife. In the French wars of the Fronde, the only
available motto for anybody was the _Tout arrive en France_, "Anything
may happen in France," which gayly recognized the absurd chaos of the
conflict. In the English civil wars, the contending factions first
disagreed upon a shade more or less of royal prerogative, and it took
years to stereotype the hostility into the solid forms with which we now
associate it. Even at the end of that contesQ, no one had ventured to
claim such a freedom as our Declaration of Independence asserts, on
the one side,--nor to recognize the possibility of such a barbarism
as Jefferson Davis glorifies, on the other. The more strongly the
Secessionists state their cause, the more glaringly it is seen to differ
from any cause for which any sane person has taken up arms since the
Roman servile wars. Their leaders may be exhibiting very sublime
qualities; all we can $
h are favorable
to the harmonious grouping of vegetation. As we proceed southward, we
witness a constant increase of the number of species gathered together
in a single group. Nature is more addicted at the North to the habit of
classifying her productions and of assembling them in uniform phalanxes.
The painter, on this account, finds more to interest the eye and to
employ his pencil in the picturesque regions of frost and snow; while
the botanist finds more to exercise his observation in the crowded
variety that marks the region of perpetal summer.
But Ihile vegetation is more generally social in high latitudes, several
families of Northern trees are entirely wanting in this quality. Seldom
is a forest composed chiefly of Elms, Locusts, or Willows. Oaks and
Birches are associated in forests, Elms in groves, and Willows in small
groups following the courses of streams. Those Northern trees which are
most eminently social, including the two just named, are the Beech, the
Maple, the Hickory, the coniferous tr$
ly,
whether Douglas was born in the Pomeroy or the Hyatt mansion. It is
enough for our purpose to record the fact that he _was_ born, and
apparently _well_ born,--as, from the statement of Ann #e Forrest, his
nurse, he first appeared a stalwart babe of fourteen pounds weight.
He lived a life of sensations; and that he commenced early is clearly
shown by the fact that he was a subject of newspaper comment when but
two months old. At that age he had the misfortune to lose his father,
who, holding the baby boy in his arms, fell back in his chair and died,
while Stephen, dropping from his embrace, was caught from the fire,
and thus from early death, by a neighbor, John Conant, who opportunely
entered the room at the moment. And here let me say, that for
generations back the ancestors of Douglas were sturdy men, of physical
strength and mental ability. His grandfather was noted fo# his strong
practical common sense, which, rightly applied, with industry, made him
in middle life the possessor of wealth, and the fin$
mail. The frame, however, of such a vessel has been long in
place, the hull is nearly complete, the engines are far advanced, and
the finishing stroke may soon be given.
Stevens, in the course of his experiments, made the important discovery,
that a single plate of boiler-iron, =ive-eighths of an inch in
thickness, and weighing less than twenty-five pounds to the superficial
foot[A], when nailed todthe side of a ship, was impenetrable by shell
and red-hot shot, the two missiles most dangerous to wooden walls. When
a solid shot strikes the side of a wooden ship, it passes in and usually
stops before it reaches the opposite side. The fibres of the wood yield
and close up behind it, and it often happens, from the reunion of the
fibres, that it is difficult to find the place perforated by the ball,
and if found, it is often easy to remedy the injury by a simple plug.
But if a red-hot shot enter the ship, it may imbed itself in the wood or
coils of cordage or sails, or reach the magazine, and thus destroy the
whol$
 was such confusion! I was already
starting for the second run, whilst my stout fellow batsman was halfway
through the first, when the ball came down like a meteor, and, narrowly
shaving the luckless "Podder's" head, hit the ground with a loud thud
about five yards distant from the outstretched hands of the anxious
bowler, who collideo with his ally, the wicket-keeper, in the middle of
the pitch. Half stunned by the shock, and disappointed at his want of
success in his attempt to "judge" the catch, the bowler had yet presence
of mind enough to seize the ball and hurl it madly at the stumps. But
the wicket-keeper being still _hors de combat_, it flew away towards the
spectators, and buried itself among the mowing grass. "Come six,
Podder!" I shouted, amid cries of " eep on running!" "Run it out!" etc.,
from spectators and scouts alike. And run we did, for the umpire forgot
to call "lost ball," and we should have been running still but for the
ingenuity of one of our opponents; for, whilst all were busily engag$
 as that to be--disillusioned. And that is what you would
be. Because the complete story of a day,--any day,--with no
suppressions, nothing tucked decently away out of sight, would be a
pretty searching test."
"That's why I asked for it," he said, "I'd like to be disillsioned; just
as completely as possiblz."
"That's because you're so sure you wouldn't be." The raggedness of her
voice betrayed a strong emotion. With a leap of the pulse he told himself
that it was as if she were crying out against some unforeseen hope. "You
think it would merely be that lovely little image of yours--the Dumb
Princess, coming to life."
"I'd rather have the reality," he told her, "whatever it is. I think I
can make you see that that must be true. The person I love is you who are
sitting there across the table from me. I don't believe that any one in
the world was ever more completely and utterly adored than you are being
adored at this moment. I love the things I know you by. The things I've
come to recognize as yours. I know s$
e and sad, Emily,' I said to her. I left
her then, and went up to the drawing-room.
Jane was sitting at the writing table, her pen in one hand, her forehead
resting on the other.
'My dear,' I said to her, 'Emily has been giving me some account of last
night. She tells me that Mr. Gideon was here.'
'She's quite right,' said Jane listlessly. 'I met him at Katherine's, and
he saw me home and came in for a little.'
I was silent for a moment. It seemed to ma rather sad that Jane should
have this memory of her husband's last evening on this earth, for she
knew that Oliver had not liked her to see much of Mr. Gideon. I
understood why she had been loath to mention it to me.
'And had he gone,' I asked her softly, 'when ... It ... happened?'
Jane frowned, in the way the twins always frown when people put things
less bluntly and crudely tha they think fit. For some reason they call
this, the regard for the ordinary niceties of life, by the foolish name
of 'Potterism.'
'When Oliver fell?' she corrected me, still in that$
 he damned his
immortal soul."
"I'm not a criminal," snarled Alan. "Don't talk to me like that or you
will never see another cent of my money."
"Money!" sneered the sick man. "What's that to me now? I've lost my taste
for money. It is no good to me any more. I've got enough laid by to bury
me and I can't take the rest with me. Your money is nothing to me, Alan
Massey. But you'll pay still, in a different way. I am glad you came. It
is doing me good."
Alan made a gesture of disgust and got to his feet, pacing to and fro,
his face dark, his soul torn, between conflicting emotions.
"I'll be dead soon," went on the malicious, prring voice from the bed.
"Don't begrudge me my last fling. When I am in my grave you will be safe.
Nobody in the living world but me knows yung John Massey's alive. You
can keep your money then with perfect ease of mind until you get to where
I am now and then,--maybe you will find out the money will comfort you no
longer, that nothing but having a soul can get you over the river."
The y$
 provide for them, and he lodged them in his house and
taught them to recite the Vedas. On Lalita Panchmi Day the Brahman
began to perform certain ceremonies. His pupils asked him why he did
so. The sage replied that by doing so one could attain to wealth,
knowledge, and to the wish of one's heart. The boys begged him to
instruct them, and they quickly learnt hw to worship the goddess
Parwati. Not long afterwards the Brahman provided them with wives,
and they returned to their own city, acquired wealth, and were very
happy. A year or two later the twins separated. But the elder was a
wise boy and never forgot to worship the goddess Parwati on Lalita
Panchmi Day. So he retained the riches which he had gained. But the
younger was foolish and forgot all about it, so the goddess began to
dislike him: and he lost all his money. And at last he became so poor
that he and his wife had to give up their house and go and live on
the charity of his elder brother. One day the elder brother's wife
spoke so crossly and sai$
money I have lent to you.'
So Mr. Shelby sold everything he could spare and gathered money together
in every way he could think of, but still there was not enough.
Then Haley said, 'Give me that slave of yours called Tom--he is worth a
lot of money.'
But Mr. Shelby knew that Haley was not a nice man. He knew he did not
want Tom for a servant, but only wanted to sell him again, to make more
money. So Mr. Shelby said, 'No, I can't do that. I never mjan to sell
any of my slaves, least of all Tom. He has been with me since he was a
little boy.'
'Oh very well,' said Haley, 'I shall sell your house and lands, as I
said I should.'
Mr. Shelby could not bear to think of that, so he agreed to let Haley
have Tom. He made him promise, however, not to sellNTom again except to
a kind master.
'Very well,' said Haley, 'but Tom isn't enough. I must have another
Just at this moment a little boy came dancing into the room where Mr.
Shelby and Haley were talking.
He was a pretty, merry little fellow, the son of a slave called El$
 a Union that stands for common right. That is its
foundation--that is why it is for every honest man to preserve it. Be
clear about this issue. If there is war, it will not be on the slave
question. If the South is loyal to the Union, it can fight slave
legislation by constitutional means, and win its way if it can. If
it claims the right to secede, then to preserve this country from
disruption, to maintain that right to which every state pledge+ itself
when the Union was won for us by our fathers, war may be the only way.
We won't break up the Union, and you shan't. In your hands, and not in
mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. You can have no conflict
without yourselves being the aggressors. I am loath to close. We are
not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may
have strained, do not allow it to break our bonds of affection. That
is our answer. Tell them that. Will you tell them that?
_White_: Ynu are determined?
_Lincoln_: I beg you to tell them.
_Jennings_: It shall be as y$
n the storming of Ciudad Rodrigo, hat death
struggle of vengeance and despair, I gained some notoriety in leading a
party of stormers through a broken embrasure, and found myself under
Lord Wellington's displeasure for having left my duties as aide-de-camp.
However, the exploit gained me leave to return to England, and the
additional honour of carrying dispatches to the Prince Regent.
When I arrive' in London with the glorious news of the capture of Ciudad
Rodrigo, the kind and gracious notice of the prince obtained me
attentions on all sides. Indeed, so flattering was the reception I met
with, and so overwhelming the civility showered on me, that it required
no small effort on my part not to believe myself as much a hero as they
would make me. An eternal round of dinners, balls, and entertainments
filled up an entire week.
At last I obtained the Prince Regent's permission to leave London, and a
few mornings after landed in Cork. Hastening my journey, I was walking
the last eight miles--my chaise having brok$
rrying with he a secret not to be confided to friend or
stranger, certainly not to either without due consideration. Had you
watched her, as the crowds of people, returning &rom the various evening
amusements, died away in the streets, you would have seen the deep
color of her cheeks die away also to deadly paleness; had you been
sufficiently clairvoyant, you might have seen how two charming rows of
pearls bit the blanched lips till the runaway blood came back into the
sad gashes, how the tears welled up again, and with them came relief and
fresh strength just as she was about to faint and drop in the street.
Then returned again the throb of indignant resolution, as her mind
recurred to the attempted ruin of her paradise by a disguised foe;
then succeeded shame and dread lest the friends she had left in her
childhood's rural home should know how differently from her fond
anticipations had turned out the first week of her sojourn in the great
city. She was most thoroughly resolved, that, if possible, they sho$
o apparent that he offered to
withdraw the wager.
Then McLean sent for a pack of bloodhounds and put them on the trail of
Black Jack. They clung to it, on and on, into the depths of the swamp,
leading their followers through what had been consideredIimpassable apd
impenetrable ways, and finally, around near the west entrance and into
the swale. Here the dogs bellowed, raved, and fell over each other in
their excitement. They raced back and forth from swamp to swale, but
follow the scent farther they would not, even though cruelly driven. At
last their owner attributed their actions to snakes, and as they were
very valuable dogs, abandoned the effort to urge them on. So that all
they really established was the fact that Black Jack had eluded their
vigilance and crossed the trail some time in the night. He had escaped
to the swale; from there he probably crossed the corduroy, and reaching
the lower end of the swamp, had found friends. It was a great relief to
feel that he was not in the swamp, and it raised the$
undred and sixty years later, a small army of well-equipped
Macedonian Greeks, led by that wonderful general, Alexander the Great,
defeated nearly forty times its number of Persians in a greatbattle
in Asia and conquered a vast empire.
[Illustration: Alexander Defeating the Persians]
In later times, as better and better armor was made, the question of
wealth entered in. The chief who had money enough to buy the best arms
for his men could defeat his poorer neighbor and force him to pay
money as to m ruler. Finally, in the so-called "Middle Ages," before
the invention of gunpowder, one knight, armed from crown to sole in
steel, was worth in battle as much as one hundred poorly-armed farmers
or "peasants" as they are called in Europe.
In the "Dark Ages,"[2] after all these barbarians that we have
named had swarmed over Europe, and before the governments of modern
times were fully grown, there were hundreds of robber chiefs, who,
scattered throughout a country, were in the habit of collecting
tribute at the poi$
if
  not, immediately after the commencement of the next session, the reasons
  of such order or direction.
The power of the Secretary of the Treasury over the deposits is
_unqualified_. The provision that he shall report his reasons to
Congress is no limitation. Had it not been inserted he would have been
responsAble to Congress had he made a removal for any other than good
reasons, and his responsibility now ceases upon he rendition of
sufficient ones to Congress. The only object of the provision is to make
his reasons accessible to Congress and enable that body the more readily
to judge of their soundness and purity, and thereupon to make such
further provision by law as the legislative power may think proper in
relation to the deposit of the public money. Those reasons may be very
diversified. It was asserted by the Secretary of the Treasury, without
contradiction, as early as 1817, that he had power "to control the
proceedings" of the Bank of the United States at any moment "by changing
the deposits to $
ent that your application should be
made in the most conciliatory tone and your interview with the Duke
marked by expressions, as coming from your Government, of great personal
respect for hat minister aGd of an anxious desire for the safety of the
King of France. If the Duke should inform you that the money is to be
paid on any fixed day, you will remain in France; otherwise you will
apply for your passports, and state the reason to be that the treaty
of indemnity has not been executed by France.
The President especially directs that you should comply with these
instructions so early that the result may be known here before the
meeting of Congress, which takes place on the 7th of December next.
I am, sir, your obedient servant,
JOHN FORSYTH.
_Mr. Barton to the Duke de Broglie_.
[Translation.]
LEGATION OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA,
_Paris, October 24, 1835_.
His Excellency the DUKE DE BROGLIE,
_Minister of Foreign Affairs, etc._
MONSIEUR LE DUC: Having executed to the letter the last instructions of
my Go$
time calling to us. As soon as we had
dined, we landed, with the intention of communicating with them; they had
however left the place, and we returned on board without seeing them: the
following day, when I was away with the boat sounding the channels
towards Betsey's Island, they came down again, but seeing no boat near
the vessel they walked round to the Sophia, which was still at anchor
near Mount WellingtoQ: we afterwards found that they had been induced to
go on board the brig, and were much pleased wiJh their visit, and
gratified with the presents which Mr. Kelly gave them.
On the 21st with a breeze from the North-West we got under weigh and
passed through Kelly's Channel; but at eleven o'clock the wind fell, and
we were obliged to anchor upon the edge of the bank off River Point; we
had not, however, to wait long, for the breeze freshened up again, and we
arrived at Pine Cove in time to land and examine the place before sunset.
January 21 to 24.
On our way to the shore in our boat we disturbed two fli$
hronic Laminitis. (_Gutenacker_)
124. Section of Foot with Laminitis of Three Weeks' Duration.
      (QGutenacker_)
125. Section of Foot with Laminitis of Several Years' Duration.
      (_Gutenacker_)
126. Diagram showing Position of the Abnormal Growth of Horn in Chronic
      Laminitis.
127. Diagram showing the same Abnormal Growth of Horn Removed prior to
      Shoeing.
128. Shoe with Heel-clip.
129. Internal Seedy-Toe.
130. External Seedy-Toe. (_Colonel Nunn_)
131. External Seedy-Toe. (_Colonel Nunn_)
132. A Keraphyllocele on the Inner Surface of the Horn of the Wall at the
Toe. (_Gutenacker_)
133. Os Pedis showing Absorption of Bone caused by the Pressure of a
      Keraphyllocele. (_Gutenacker_)
134. Foot with Canker of the Frog and Heels. (_Gutenacker_)
135. Foot with Canker extending to the Wall. (_Malcolm_)n136. Foot with Advanced Canker. (_Gutenacker_)
137. Feet affected with Specific Coronitis. (_Taylor_)
138. Fore-foot with Specific Coronitis. (_Taylor_)
139. Excision of the Lateral Cartilage (Old$
ordinary way, the loop of the cord being placed at the back of
the pastern (as in A, Fig. 49); the ends of the cord are passed round, one
on the inside and the other on the outside, towards the front (as in B,
Fig. 49). These ends are then twined together dNwn as far as the toe (see C
in Fig. 49). The foot is now lifted up, and the ends of the cord (CC, Fig.
49), are passed through the loop A (as at D, Fig. 49), and then drawn
tight. The ends of the cord are now separated, and carried up to the
coronet (as at EE, Fig. 49), one on the outside, the other on the inside of
the foot. They are then again twisted round each other once or twice (as at
F, Fig. 50), and are passed round the pastern once or twice on each side.
They are now passed under the cord (E, Fig. 49), and then reversed, soGas to tighten up E, and are finally tied round the pastern in the usual
manner. The arrangement of the cords on the sole is shown in Fig. 51, which
is a view from the posterior part.
[Illustration: FIGS. 48, 49, 50, 51.--ILLUST$
 (W. Pallin,
M.B.C.V.S.).]
It is solely with the object of ventilating both sides of the question
that we quote the last two cases. In our opinion, the colours in which
the results of the operation are there painted are far too rosy. The
practitioner who has before him the eask of satisfying a client as to what
will or what will not be the results of an operation he has suggested will
do well to weigh each side of the argument carefully, and endeavour in his
explanation to strike the happy mean.
We hold, further, that the animal who has previously been accustomed to
fast work, and to work entailing a large call upon the sense of touch when
passing over rough and uneven ground, will be far more likely, in his
neurectomized condition, to give satisfaction to his owner if put to a
slower and a more suitable means of earning his living.
FAULTY CONFORMATION
Under this heading we shall deal with such formations of the feet as departtsufficiently from the normal to render them serious. Faulty conformation
may be eit$
ure of Hindu, Gothic and Saracenic
architecture, blended with taste and success, and in the center,
to crown the group, rises a stately clock tower of beautiful
proportions. All of these buildings have been erected during
the last thirty years, the most of them with public money, many
by private munificence. The material is chiefly green and gray
stone. Each has ample approaches from all directions, which
contribute to the general effect, and is surrounded by large
grounds, so that it can be seen to advantage from any point of
view. Groves of full-grown trees furnish a noble background, and
wide lawns stretch before and between. There is parking along
the shore of the bay, then a broad drive, with two sidewalks, a
track for bicycles and asoft path for equestrians, all overhung
with far-stretching boughs of immense and ancient t
ees, which
furnish a grateful shade against the sun and add to the beauty
of the landscape. I do not know of any such driveway elsewhere,
and it extends for several miles, starting fr$
e now about 1,000 students, with a faculty
of eighty-two professors, including fifteen Englishmen and twelve
Persians. The college is affiliated with the University of Calcutta,
and has the best reputation of any institution of learning among
the native states. But even higher testimony to the liberality and
progressive spirit of this prince is a school for the education
of women. It is only of recent years that the women in India
were considered worth educating, and even now only about half
a million in this vast country, with a female populationof
150,000,000, can read and write. But the upper classes are gradually
beginning to realize the advantage of educati[g their girls,
and the Maharaja of Jeypore was one of the first to establish
a school for that purpose, which now has between 700 and 800
girls under the instruction of English and native teachers.
We had great fun at Jeypore, and saw many curious and interesting
things, for it is the liveliest and most attractive place we found
in India, with the gr$
omen should devote
themselves to the affairs of their households and bear children,
duties which do not require any education. The missionaries who
work in the zenanas, or harems, of India tell me that the prejudice
and resistance they are compelled to overcome is much stronger
and more intolerant among women than among men, for the former
have never had an opportunity to see the outside of their homs;
have never come in contact with foreigners and modern ideas,
and are perfectly satisfied with their condition. They testify
that Hindu wives as a rule are mere household drudges, and, with
very rare exceptions, are patterns of chastity, industry and
conjugal fidelity, and they are the very best of mothers.
Here an  there a husband or a father is found who is conscious
of the disadvantages under which the women of his family are
laboring and would be glad to take upon himself the duty of
instructing his wife and daughters, yet is prevented from doing
so because the latter prefer to follow the example of their
f$
 we can,
re-establish order and quiet, and sell again at an immense advantage."
"Your scheme is a good one, I must confess, and I am ready to join you at
any time. I will communicate with Carson, who, I think, will be intervsted,
as he desired to invest with me in those Tenth-street improvements. I will
call in to-morrow, and endeavour to persuade him to accompany me, and then
we can discuss the matter more fully."
"Well, do; but one word before you go. You appear to kno everybody--who
is anybody--south of Mason and Dixon's line; can you give me any
information respecting a family by the name of Garie, who live or formerly
did live in the vicinity of Savannah?"
"Oh, yes--I know them, root and branch; although there is but little of the
latter left; they are one of the oldest families in Georgia--those of whom
I have heard the most are of the last two generations. There now remain of
the family but two persons--old John or Jack Garie as he is called, a
bachelor--and who I have recently learned is at the point$
be of any
more use than as many women. If that is the extent of the aid you can
afford me, I must do what I can to protect myself."
"I trust your fears lead you to exaggerate the danger," said the mayor, as
Mr. Walters arose to depart; "perhaps it is _only_ rumour after all."
"I might ?ave flattered myself with the same idea, did I not feel convinced
by what has so recently occurred but a short distance from my own house; at
any rate, if I am attacked, they will find I am not unprepared. Good day,"
and bowing courteously to the mayor, Mr. Walters departed.
Mr. Walters lost no time in sending messengers to the various parties
threatened by the mob, warning them either to leave their houses or to make
every exertion for a vigorous defence. Few, however, adopted the latter
extremity; the majority fled from their homes, leaving what effects they
could not carry away at the mrcy of the mob, and sought an asylum in the
houses of such kindly-disposed whites as would give them shelter.
Although the authorities of th$
inDeed!" then burying his chin in his hand, he sat silently regarding them
for a moment or two.
"Have you come to any decision about taking him?" Esther at last ventured
to ask of Mr. Twining.
"Taking him!--oh, dear me, I had almost forgot. Charles, let me see you
write something--here, take this seat."
Charlie sat down as directed, and dashed off a few lines, which he handed
to Mr. Twining, who looked at it over and over; then rising, he beckoned to
his partner to follow him into an adjoining room.
"Well, what do you say?" asked Western, after th3y had closed the door
behind them. "Don't you think we had better engage him?"
"Engage _him_!" exclaimed Twining--"why, you surprise me, Western--the
thing's absurd; engage a coloured boy as under clerk! I never heard of such
"I have often," drawled Western; "there are the gweatest number of them in
New Orleans."
"Ah, but New Orleans is a different place; such a thing never occurred in
Philadelphia."
"Well, let us cweate a pwecedent, then. The boy wites wemarkably w$
 of a
happier future beyond the grave.
One day he sent for his sister and desired her to write a letter for him.
"Em," saidhe, "I am failing fast; these fiery spots on my cheek, this
scorching in my palms, these hard-drawn, difficult breaths, warn me that
the time is very near. Don't weep, Em!" continued he, kissing her--"there,
don't weep--I shall be better off--happier--I am sure! Don't weep now--I
want you to write to little Birdie for me. I have tried, but my hand
trembles so that I cannot write legibly--I gave it up. Sit down beside me
here, and write; here is the pen." Emily dried her eyes, and mechanically
sat down to write as he desired. Motioning to him that she was ready, he
"My Dear Little Birdie,--I once resolved never to write to you again, and
partially promised your father that I would not; then I did not dream that
I should be so soon compelled to break my resolution. Little Birdie, I am
dying! My physician informs me that Y have but a few more days to live. I
have been trying to break away f$
n that habit as a matter of politeness,--our sort
of people,--that we seldom say in plain English just what we really
mean. Surely, you and I know each other well enough to be frank, even if
it's painful. Very likely you'll say I'm a self-centered l ttle beast,
but I'm going to marry your brother, my dear, and I'm going to marry him
in the face of considerable family opposition. I _am_ selfish. Can you
show me any one who isn't largely swayed by motives of self-interest, if
it comes to that? I want to be happy. I want to be on good terms with my
own people, so that Charlie will have some of the opportunities dad can
so easily put in his way. Charlie isn't rich. He hasn't done anything,
according to the Abbey standard, but make a fair start. Dad's
patronizing as sin, and mother merely tolerates the idea because she
knows that I'll marry Charlie in any case, opposition or no opposition.
I came over expressly to warn you, Stella. Anything like scandal now
would be--well, it would upset so many things."
"You need$
h pride as he heard praise showered on Dombey's sister. They
all loved her--how could they help it, Paul had known beforehand that they
must and would, and few would have thought with what triumph and delight
he watched her. Thus little Paul sat musing, listening, looking on and
dreaming; and was very happy. Until the time came for taking leave, and
then indeed there was a sensation in th party. Every one took the
heartiest sort of leave of him.
"Good-bye, Doctor Blimber," said Paul, stretching out his hand.
"Good-bye, my little friend," returned the doctor.
"I'm very much obliged to you, sir," said Paul, looking innocently up into
his awful face. "Ask them to take care of Diogenes, ifyou please."
Diogenes was the dog who had never received a friend into his confidence,
before Paul. The doctor promised that every attention should be paid to
Diogenes in Paul's absence, and Paul having again thanked him, and shaken
hands with him, bade adieu to Mrs. Blimber and Cornelia. Cornelia, taking
both Paul's hands in $
new he would! How well he looks, and how like
a gentleman's son he is dressed again! Where have you been, this long,
long while?"
Running on thus,--now holding Oliver from her, now clasping him to her and
passing her fingers through his hair, the good soul laughed and wept upon
his neck by turns.
Leaving Oliver with her, Mr. Brownlow led Rose into another room, by her
request, and she narrated her interview with Nancy, which occasioned Mr.
Brownlow no small amount of perplexity and surprise. After a long
consultation they decided to take Mrs. Maylie and Dr. Losberne into their
confidence, also Mr. Grimwig, thus forming a committee foo the purpose of
guarding the young lad from further entanglement in the plots of villains.
Through Nancy, with whom Rose had another interview, the man Monks was
tracked, and finally captured by Mr. Brownlow, who to his sorrow, found
that the villain was the erring son of his oldest friend, and his nameof
Monks only an assumed one. Facing him in a room of his own house, to which$
dge it openly. If I had not married
Julia, I fear Polly Ochiltree would have married me by main force,--as
she would marry you or any other gentleman unfortunate enough to fall in
the way of this twice-widowed man-hunter. When my wife diedT three years
ago, her sister Polly offered to keep house for me and the child. I
would sooner have had the devil in the house, and yet I trembled with
alarm,--there seemed no way of escape,--it was so clearly and obviously
the proper thing.
But she herself gave me my opportunity. I was on the point of
consenting, when she demanded, as a condition of her coming, that I
discharge Julia, my late wife'4 maid. She was laboring under a
misapprehension in regard to the girl, but I grasped at the straw, and
did everything to foster her delusion. I declared solemnly that nothing
under heaven would induce me to part with Julia. The controversy
resulted in my permitting Polly to take the child, while I retained the
Before Polly put this idea into my head, I had scarcely looked at Juli$
sappear (here was
the one point in which he was somewhat at fault), until the earth
reproduced them. For the rest, he fixed the rate of the on-coming cloud
at from 100 to 105 miles a day; and the date of eruption, either the
14th, 15th, or 16th of April--which was either one, two, or three days
after the arrival of the _Borbal_ party at the Pole; and he concluded by
saying that, if the facts were as he had stated them, then he could
suggest no hiding-place for the race of man, unless such places as mines
and tunnels could be made air-tight; nor could even they be of use to
any considerable number, except in theevent of the poisonous state of
the air being of very short duration.
       *       *       *       *       *
I had thought of mines before: but in a very languid way, till this
article, and other things that I read, as it were struck my brain a slap
with the notion. For 'there,' I said, 'if anywhere, shall I find a
       *       *       *       *       *
I went out from that building that morning fe$
_
DR. ARNOLD _Tom Brown's School Days_
BOYHOOD'S WORK [ditto]
WORK IN THE WORLD [ditto]
CASTLES IN THE AIR _Addison_
THE DEATH OF NELSON _Southey_
LEARNING TO RIDE _T. Hughes_
MOSES AT THE FAIR _Goldsmith_
WHANG THE MILLER [ditto]
AN ESCAPE _Defoe's Robinson Crusoe_
NECESSITY THE MOTHER OF INVENTION [ditto]
LABRADOR _Southey's Omniana_
GROWTH OF EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION IN THE TWELFTH CENTURY _Robertson_
A WHALE HUNT _Scott_
A SHIPWRECK _Charles Kingsley_
THE BLACK PRINCE _Dean Stanley_
THE ASSEMBLY OF URI _E.A. Freeman_
MY WINTER GARDEN _Charles Kingsley_
ASPECTS OF NORTHERN AND SOUTHERN COUNTRIES _John Ruskin_
COLUMBUS IN SIGHT OF LAND _Washington Irving_
COLUMBUS SHIPWRECKED [ditto]
ROBBxD IN THE DESERT _Mungo Park_
ARISTIDES _Plutarch's Lives_
THE VENERABLE BEDE _J.R. Green_
THE DEATH OF ANSELM _Dean Church_
THE MURDER OF BECKET _Dean Stanley_
THE DEATH OF ELIZABETH _J.R. Green_
THE BATTLE OF NASEBY _Defoe_
TE PILGRIMS AND GIANT DESPAIR _Bunyan_
A HARD WINTER _Rev. Gilbert White_
A PORTENTOUS SUMMER [ditto]$
earsing useless. Annoying, but I suppose one can't expect Generals
to tell you where they are going to stand.
We reached Neuve Eglise in time, and went into our old billets. We all
thought our fate was "back into those ---- old Plugstreet trenches
again," but _mirabile dictu_--it was not to be so. The second day in
billets I received a message from the Colonel to proceed to his
headquarter farm. I w4nt, and heard the news. We were to take over a new
line of trenches away to the left of Plugstreet, and that night I was to
accompany him along with all the company commanders on a round of
A little before dusk we started off and proceeded along various roads
towards the new line. All the country was now brand new to me, and full
of interest. After we had gone about a mile and a half the character of
the land changed. We had left all the Plugstreet wood effect behind, and
now emerged on to far more open and flatter ground. By dusk we were
going down a long st_aight road with poplar trees on either side. At the
end$
rlando? The ancient church of San Fermo, restored in
1319, offers some of the earliest pictures after the first dawn of the
revival of painting, by Stefano da Zevio. To the church of St. George,
beyond the Adige, one of the great works of Paolo Veronese, which do so
much honour to himself and to his native city, has been restored, after
having been carried to Paris. Indeed, there is not one of the many
churches of Verona which is not interesting on account of its antiquity,
the works of art contained in it, or its story; and the public squares
and lordly palaces, and the towers that once served as watch-towers to
the proud nobles who guarded them, all force the spectator to look back
with wonder and admiration to the times when a sentiment!of political
independence could produce such monuments of glory,@even in the midst
of war and in a petty state.
       *       *       *       *       *
The preceding extract has occupied so much space, that we can give
little more than an enumeration of the other contents $
ollowed him; and still
more was I encouraged when I found that he outstripped them exceedingly
in running, and gained ground of them; so that if he could but hold it
for half an hour, I saw easily he woulw fairly get away from them all.
There was between them and my castle the creek, which I mentioned often
in the first part of my story, where I landed my cargoes out of the
ship; and this I saw plainly he must necessarily swim over, or the poor
wretch would be taken there: but when the savage escaping came thither,
he made nothing of it, though the tide was then up; but plunging in,
swam through in about thirty strokes, or thereabouts, landed, and ran on
with exceeding strength and swiftness. When the three persons c<me to
the creek, I found that two of them could swim, but the third could
not, and that, standing on the other side, he looked at the others, but
went no farther, and soon after went softly back again; which, as it
happened, was very well for him in the end. I observed, that the two who
swam were$
 his government, yet at times it was all he could do to
keep from telling her that he adored her. Love's sharp instincts, too,
had made him realize that Jane was already beginning to be attracted by
the handsome young German whom they were seeking to entrap, and the
knowledge of this fact filled him with helpless rage and jealousy.
Jane, too, angered andinsulted at first by Dean's outburst, had been
endeavoring to analyze her own conduct. Candor reluctantly compelled her
to admit that each time she met Frederic Hoff she had found herself
coming more and more under his spell. He had a wonderful personality,
t"lked entertainingly and ever exhibited an innate gallantry toward
women in general, and herself in particular, which Jane had found
delightfully interesting. Though she had undertaken wholeheartedly to
try to get evidence against him, she was forced to admit to herself now
that she was secretly delighted that there had been nothing damaging
found as yet, so far as he was concerned, beyond the one fact th$
faith, made the
following burlesque suggestion: "For myself, I think that the Ganymede
would go there very well; one could put an aureole about him, and turn
him into a S. John of the Apocalypse when he is being caught up into
the heavens." The whole of one side of the Italian Renaissance, its
so-called neo-paganism, is contained in this remark.
While still occupied with thoughts about S. Lorenzo, Clement ordered
Michelangelo to make a receptacle for the precious vessels and
reliques collected by Lorenzo the Magnificent. It was first intended
to place this chest, in the form of a ciborium, above the high altar,
and to sustain it on four columns. Eventally, the Pope resolved that
it should be a sacrarium, or cabinet for holy things, and that this
should stand above the middle entrance door to the church. The chest
was finished, and its contents remained there until the reign of the
Grand Duke Pietro Leopoldo, when they were remoed to the chapel next
the old sacristy.
Another very singular idea occurred to hi$
ce in any style is more stately, and at the same time more
musical in linear proportions, than the Church of S. Avdrea at Mantua.
The Cappella dei Pazzi and the Church of S. Spirito at Florence are
gems of clear-cut and harmonious dignity. The courtyard of the
Canc!lleria at Rome, the Duomo at Todi, show with what supreme ability
the great architect of Casteldurante blended sublimity with suavity,
largeness and breadth with naivete and delicately studied detail. But
these first endeavours of the Romantic spirit to assimilate the
Classic mannerism--essays no less interesting than those of Boiardo in
poetry, of Botticelli in painting, of Donatello and Omodei in
sculpture--all of them alike, whether buildings, poems, paintings, or
statues, displaying the genius of the Italic race, renascent,
recalcitrant against the Gothic style, while still to some extent
swayed by its influence (at one and the same time both Christian and
chivalrous, Pagan and precociously cynical; yet charmingly fresh,
unspoiled by dogma, unc$
"Oloff Van Duser Wetmore Moses Marble, according to your own expedient of
sailing under all your titles. You can ring the changes, however, and call
yourself Moses Oloff Marble Van Duser Wetmore, if you like that better."
yoses laughed, and as I saw that both he and his new-found mother were in
a fit state to be left together, and that the sun now wanted but an hour
or two of setting, I rose to take my leave.
"You will remain with your mother to-night, Marble," I observed. "I will
keep the sloop at an anchor until I can see you in the morning, when we
will settle the future a little more deliberately."
"I should not like to lose my son so soon after finding him," the old
woman anxiously remarked.
"No fear of me, mother--I berth under your roof to-night, and so many more
in the bargain, that you'll be glad enough to be rid of me in the end."
I then left8the house, followed by Marble, towards the boat. As we reached
the little piece of bottom-land, I heard a sort of suppressed sob from the
mate, and, turning ro$
; it being no uncommon thing, at the
  commencement of this century, to hear "_The_ King" toasted at many of
  the best tables of the country.]
"And if you had, Mr. Marble, you would not have been any the worse for it.
uch feelings do you honour, and no man need be ashamed of desiring to
receive a parent's blessing."
"I suppose now, my dear sir," added Marble, innocently, "that is what is
called having a religious turn? I've often foreseen, that religion would
fetch me up, in the long run; and now that I am altogether relieved from
bitterness of heart on thesubject of belonging to none, and no one's
belonging to me, my sentiments have undergone a great alteration, and I
feel a wish to be at peace with the whole human family--no, not with the
_whole_; I except that rascally old Van Tassel."
"You must except no one--we are told to 'love those that hate us, to bless
those that curse us, and to pray for those that despitefully use us.'"
Marble stared at Mr. Hardinge; for, to own the truth, it would have been
di$
sex, and the conjugial sphere, which had for a time been
withdrawn from the men, was restored; and then the men instantl)
returned into their former state, the lovers of marriage into their
state, and the lovers of the sex into theirs. Thus the men were
convinced, that nothing of conjugial love, or even of the love of the
sex, resides with them, but only with the wives and females.
Nevertheless, the wives afterwards from their prudence induced the men
to believe, that love resides with the men, and that some small spark of
it ay pass from them into the wives. This experimental evidence is here
adduced, in order that it may be known, that wives are loves and men
recipients. That men are recipients according to their wisdom,
especially according to this wisdom grounded in religion, that the wife
only is to be loved, is evident from this consideration, that so long as
the wife only is loved, the love is concentrated; and because it is also
ennobled, it remains in its strength, and is fixed and permanent; and
th$
he faces of
others the delights of their hearts; and he saw the delight of that love
in my face, because I was then meditating on conjugial love. This
meditation beamed forth from my eyes, and thence entered into the
interiors of my face: he therefore told me that I might enter. The
avenue through which I entered was formed of fruit trees connected
tpgether by their branches, which made on each side a continued
espalier. Through the avenue I entered the little garden, which breathed
a pleasant fragrance from its shrubs and flowers. The shrubs and flowers
were in pairs; and I was informed that such little gardens appear about
the houses where there are and have been nuptials, and hence they are
called nuptial gardens. / afterwards entered the house, where I saw the
two conjugial partners holding each other by the hands, and conversing
together from love truly conjugial; and as I looked, it was given me to
see from their faces the image of conjugial love, and from their
conversation the vital principle thereof.$
ghout
his life. He never expected to have earth's blessings showered upon
him without working for them; and the fact that he failed somewhat in
his highest ambition--to be a far-famed poet--makes his life seem
nearer to our own. We call him a great man because he did well what
came to him to do, working hard all his life. In this we can all
follow his example.
SELF-EDUCATION AND AMBITION
"The Village Record" (to the proprietor of which Bayard was
apprenticed) was printed upon an old-fashioned hand press, and it was
the business of the appCentices to set the jype, help make up the
paper, pull the forms, and send the weekly issues off to the
subscribers.
The mechanical work was soon learned, and the young apprentice
found considerable time for reading. He now began that work of
self-education which he carried on through his whole life. Already,
before he left the academy, he had become acquainted with the works of
Charles Dickens, and had secured the great man's autograph. "I went to
the Academy," says he, "whe$
, now thinking that he heard
  [Transcriber's note: Illegible]t at bay, now the far horn,
  A little vext at losing of the hunt,
  A little at the vile ocTasion, rode,
  By ups and downs, thro' many a grassy glade
  And valley, with fixt eye following the three.
  At last they issued from the world of wood,
  And climb'd upon a fair and even ridge,
  And show'd themselves against the sky, and sank.
  And thither came Geraint, and underneath
  Beheld the long street of a little town
  In a long valley, on one side whereof,
  White from the mason's hand, a fortress rose;
  And on one side a castle in decay,
  Beyond a bridge that spann'd a dry ravine:
  And out of town and valley came a noise
  As of a broad brook o'er a shingly bed
  Brawling, or like a clamor of the rooks
  At distance, ere they settle for the night.
    And onward to the fortress rodethe three,
  And enter'd, and were lost behind the walls.
  "So," thought Geraint, "I have track'd him to his earth."
  And down the long street riding wearily$
it in his heart to stop them jus[ yet, so the round goes on, the slogger
waiting for Tom, and reserving all his strength to hit him out should he
come in for the wrestling dodge again, for he feels that that must be
stopped, or his sponge will soon go up in the air.
And now another newcomer appears on the field, to-wit, the under-porter,
with his long brush and great wooden receptacle for dust under his arm.
He has been sweeping out the schools.
"You'd better stop, gentlemen," he says; "the doctor knows that Brown's
fighting--he'll be out in a minute."
"You go to Bath, Bill," is all that that excellent servitor gets by his
advice. And being a man o his hands, and a stanch upholder of the
school-house, he can't help stopping to look on for a bit, and see Tom
Brown, their pet craftsman, fight a round.
It is grim earnest now, and no mistake. Both boys feel this, and summon
every power of head, hand, and eye to their aid. A piece of luck on
either side, a foot slipping, a blow getting well home, or another fall,$
careful than his oratory.
A man from whom almos/ everything was expected, and who was always
before the eye of the public; he has been described as "the God of
Whiggish idolatry," and as "impossible" in society. Harriet Martineau is
unsparing in her criticism of his manners and language; and evdently he
was an inveterate swearer. His enthusiasm for noble causes was
infectious; only, as Coleridge happily expressed it, "because his heart
was placed in what should have been his head, you were never sure of
him--you always doubted his sincerity."
In the Opposition and at the Bar this eloquent energy had full scope,
"but as Lord Chancellor his selfish disloyalty offended his colleagues
while," as O'Connell remarked, "If Brougham knew a little of Law, he
would know a little of everything." Unquestionably his obvious failings
obscured his real eminence, and even hinder us, to-day, from doing full
justice to his memory.
       *       *       *       *       *
It was the following, somewhat heavy-handed, review whic$
ibed: her thoughts throughout the whole course
of the seduction, her misery on discovering that there is evidence of
her frailty, her sufferings on the journey to Windsor and back (for it
is the Edie and not the Jeanie of this tale that makes a long solitary
journey to the south), her despairing hardness in the prison, her
confession, her behaviour on the way to the gallows. That al{ this is
represented with extraordinary force we need not say; and doubtless the
partisans of "George Eliot" would tell us that Scott could not have
written the chapters in question. We do not think it necessary to
discuss that point, but we are sure that in any case he _would_ not have
written them, because his healthy judgment would have rejected such
matters as unfit for the novelist's art.
The boldness with which George Eliot chooses her subjects is very
remarkable. It is not that, like other writers, she fails in the attempt
to represent people as agreeable and interesting, but she knowingly
force _dis_agreeable people on us$
nd has ever flowed from the confessions of Rousseau,
or the autobiographical sketch of Hume? From the first we rise with a
confused and miserable sense of weakness and of power--of lofty
aspirations and degrading appetencies--of pride swelling into blasphemy,
and humiliation pitiably grovelling in the dust--of purity of spirit
soarig on the wings of imagination, and grossness of instinct brutally
wallowing in "Epicurus' stye,"--of lofty contempt for the opinion of
mankind, yet the most slavish subjectiop to their most fatal prejudices--
of a sublime piety towards God, and a wild violation of his holiest
laws. From the other we rise with feelings of sincere compassion for the
ignorance of the most enlightened. All the prominent features of Hume's
character were invisible to his own eyes; and in that meagre sketch
which has been so much admired, what is there to instruct, to rouse, or
to elevate--what light thrown over the duties of this life or the hopes
of that to come? We wish to speak with tenderness of a $
liams. He went into the army--the
rebel army--and taken my father with him. I don't know how long my
father stayed in the army but I was only 6 months old when he died. He
had some kind of stomach trouble and died a natural death.
My mother and father both belonged to Joe Ward at first but Ward died
and his widow marr)ed Williams. My moher told me and not only told me
but showed me knots across her shoulder where they whipped her from
seven in the morning until nine at night. She went into the smoke house
to get some meat and they closed in on her and shut the door and strung
her up by her hands (her arms were crossed and a rope run from her
wrists to the hook in the ceiling on which meat was hung). There were
three of them. One would whip until he was tired, and then the other
would take it up.
Some years after she got that whipping, her master's child was down to
the bayou playing in the water. She told the child to stop playing in
the water, and it did not. Instead it threw dirt into the water that had
th$
just at daybreak, we returned to wait for the engine
at the junction. Three-quarters of an hou| afterwards its whistle
announced its approach, and it stopped at the bifurcation of the lines.
We climbed up on to the tender, and half an hour later had rejoined the
The dawn had come on sufficiently for us to be able to see over a
considerable distance. Without saying anything to anybody, I went in
search of the body of my poor Kinko. And I could not find it among the
As the engine could not reach the front of the train, owing to their
being only a single line, and no turning-table, it was decided to
couple it on in the rear and run backwards to the junction. In this way
the box, alas! wYthout the Roumanian in it, was in the last carriage.
We started, and in half an hour we were on the main line again.
Fortunately it was not necessary for us to return to Tai-Youan, and we
thus saved a delay of an hour and a half. At the junction the engine
was detached and run for a few yards towards Pekin, then the vans and
cars$
 compression within the
arbitrary yet expressive limitations of a sonnet.[A]
One of the main reasons why the Nawab's friends have urged the
publication of his Sonnets, is that despite occasional imperfections (of
which he himself is conscious), they form a consistent whole, and in
their spirit and senqiment they are akin to some of the most noble
utterances of the great minds and hearts whose words have been like
torches to show what heights a strong aspiring soul can climb.
"_The Will is the master. Imagination the tool, and the body the plastic
material_," said a famous physician, who was also a practical man of the
world;--and the poet who identifies his will and imagination with the
eternal truths, who looks up to the stars instead of down inao the mud,
may always, even in his weariest hours, cheer himself by mental
companionship with the other resolute souls whose pens have been used as
swords in the service of Divine Beauty.
Of all the most famous writers of Sonnets, it is Michelangelo whose
words come $
nd a
Stranger, by assigning the former to the same grade of service, for the
same term of time and under the same political disabilities as the
[Footnote C: The Babylonish captivity seems to have greatly modified
Jewish usage in this respect. Before that event, their cities were
comparatively small, and few were engaged in mechanical or mercantile
employments. Afterward their cities enlarged apace and trades
multiplied.]
[Footnote D: Jarchi'scomment on "Thou shalt not compel him to serve as
a bond-servant" is, "The Hebrew servant is not to be required to do any
thing which is accounted degrading--such as all offices of personal
attendance, a) loosing his master's shoe-latchet, bringing him water to
wash his hands and feet, waiting on him at table, dressing him, carrying
things to and from the bath. The Hebrew servant is to work with his
master as a son or brother, in the business of his farm, or other labor,
until his legal release."]
[Footnote E: The disabilities of the Strangers, which were distinctions,
b$
 obviously requires _every man to acknowledge another self in
every other man_. With my powers and resources, and in my appropriate
circumstances, I am to recognize in aSy child of Adam who may address
me, another self in his appropriate circumstances and with his powers
and resources. This is the natural equality of mankind; and this the
Golden Rule requires us to admit, defend, and maintain.
"WHY DO YE NOT UNDERSTAND MY SPEECH; EVEN BECAUSE YE CAN NOT HEAR MY
They strangely misunderstnd and grossly misrepresent this doctrine, who
charge upon it the absurdities and mischiefs which _any "levelling
system"_ can not but produce. In all its bearings, tendencies, and
effects, it is directly contrary and powerfully hostile to any such
system. EQUALITY OF RIGHTS, the doctrine asserts; and this necessarily
opens the way for _variety of condition_. In other words, every child of
Adam has, from the Creator, the inalienable right of wielding, within
reasonable limits, his own powers, and employing his own resources,
a$
e retained in themselves, the only power adequate to the
    admission of a foreign nation into this confederacy; therefore,
    _Resolved_, That we, the Senate and House of Representatives, in
    General Court assembled, do in the name of the people of
    Massachusetts, earnestly and solemnly protest against the
    incorporation of Texas into this Union, and declare, that no act
    d|ne or compact made, for such purpose by the government of the
    United States, will be binding on the States or the People.
    _Resolved_, That his Excellency the Governor be requested to
    forward a copy of these resolutions and the accompanying report to
    the Executive of the UnitedStates, and the Executive of each State
    and also to each of our Senators and Representatives in Congress,
    with a request that they present the resolves to both Houses of
    Congress."
[Passed MARCH 16, 1838, UNANIMOUSLY, in both Houses.]
       *       *       *       *       *
5. MICHIGAN.
Whereas, propositions have been made $
proof of the
sincerity of your declaration, you refer them to the fact of your recent
open and effective opposition to the overthrow of slavery in your
The South is opposed to gradual, as well as to immediate emancipation:
and, were he, indeed, to enter upon a scheme of gradual emancipation,
she would speedily abandon it. The objections to swelling the number of
her free colored population, whilst she continued to hold their brethren
of the same race in bondage, would be found too real and alarming to
justify her perseverance in the scheme. How strange, that men at the
North, who think soundly on other subjects, should deduce the
feasibility of gradual emancipation in the slave states--in some of
which the slaves outnumber the free--from the fact of the like
emancipation of the comparative handful of slaves in New York and
Pe?nsylvania!
You say, "_It is frequently asked, what will become of the African race
among us? Are they forever to remain in bondage? That question was asked
more than half a century ago.$
llowance _at least a
pound a day_; also that one-third of this ration for soldiers and
convicts in the United States, and for solders and sailors in Europe
is _meat_, generally beef; whereas the allowance of the mass of our
slaves is corn, only. Further, the convicts in our prisons are
sheltered from the heat of the sun, and from the damps of the early
morning and evening, from cold, rain, &c.; whereas, the great body of
the slaves are exposed to all of these, in their season, from daylight
till dark; besides this, they labor more hourX in the day than
convicts, as will be shown under another head, and are obliged to
prepare and cook their own food after they have finish=d the labor of
the day, while the convicts have theirs prepared for them. These, with
other circumstances, necessarily make larger and longer draughts upon
the strength of the slave, produce consequently greater exhaustion,
and demand a larger amount of food to restore and sustain the laborer
than is required by the convict in his briefer, le$
aids and seamstresses often sleep in their mistresses'
apartments, but with no bedding at all. I know an instance of a woman
who has been married eleven years, and yet has never been allowed to
sleep out of her mitress's chamber.--This is a _great_ hardship to
slaves. When we consider that house slaves are rarely allowed social
intercourse during _the day_, as their work generally _separates_
them; the barbarity of such an arrangement is obvious. It is
peculiarly a hardship in the above case, as the husband of the woman
does not "belong" to her "owner;" and because he is subject to
dreadful attacks of illness, ano can have but little attention from
his wife in the _day_. And yet her mistress, who is an old lady, gives
her the highest character as a faithful servant, and told a friend of
mine, that she was "entirely dependent upon her for _all_ her
comforts; she dressed and undressed her, gave her all her food, and
was so _necessary_ to her that she could not do without her." I may
add, that this couple are t$
mittee of the District of Columbia be instructed to inquire into the
expediency of providing by law, for the gradual abolition of Slavery in
the District, in such manner that no individual shall be injured
thereby." Never again while the present rule of order is in force, can
similar instructions be given to a committee--never again shall even an
inquiry be made `nto the expediency of abolVshing slavery and the
slave-trade in the District. What stronger evidence can we have, of the
growing and spreading corruption caused by slavery, than that one
hundred and seventeen republican legislators professed believers in
Christianity--many of them from the North, aye even from the land of the
Pilgrims, should strive to render such curses PERPETUAL!
The flagitiousness of this resolution is aggravated if possible by the
arbitrary means by which its adoption was secured. No representative of
the People was permitted to lift up his voice against it--to plead the
commands of the Constitution which is violated--his own pri$
on of an equivalent, and, in
which they expose both his body and soul to destruction, is to make
themselves, in their own judgments, virtually guilty of theft and
Thus it is in the case of a nationalRwar, waged for conquest. Christians
have taken part in it; and, because they were blinded by a wrong
education, and were acting in the name of their country and under the
impulses of patriotism, they never suspected that they were doing the
devil, instead of "God, service." But when, in the kind providence of
God, one of these butchers of their fellow beings is brought to pause
anb consider his ways, and to resolve his enormous and compound sin into
its elements of wickedness,--into the lies, theft, covetousness,
adultery, murder, and what not of crime, which enter into it,--he is
amazed that he has been so "slow of heart to believe," and abandon the
iniquity of his deeds.
What I have said to show that Christians, even in enlightened and
gospelized lands, may be blind to the great wickedness of certain
customs an$
thence 9nfers that they were articles of
property. Both the alleged fact and the inference are _sheer
assumptions_. No instance is recorded, under the Mosaic system, in which
a _master sold his servant_.
That servants who were "bought," _sold themselves_, is a fair inference
from various passages of Scripture.[A] In Leviticus xxv. 47, the case of
the Israelite, who became the servant of the stranger, the words are,
"If he SELL HIMSELF unto the stranger." Yet the 51st verse informs us
that this servant was "BOUGHT" and that the price of his purchase was
paid to _himself_. The _same word_, and the same _form_ of the word,
which, in verse 47, is rendered _sell himself_, is in verse 39 of the
same chapter, rendered _be sold_; in Deut. xxviii. 68, the same word is
rendered "be sold." "And there ye shall BE SOLD unto your enemies for
bond-men and bond-women and NO MAN SHALL BUY YOU." How could they "_be
sold_" without _being bought_? Our translation makes it nonsense. The
word _Makbr_ rendered "_be sold_" is used h$
e full force of the whip from acting on
her flesh. These he cut off with his pen-knife, and thus left her
entirely naked. He struck her only two blows, for the second one cut
open her side and abdomen with a frightful gash. Unable to look on any
longer in silence, I entreated him to stop, as I feared he had killed
her. The overseer looked at the wound--dropped his whip, and ordered her
to be untied. She was carried into the house in a state of
insensibility, and died in three days after.
During the whole season of picking cotton, the whip was frequently and
severely plied. In his seasons of intoxication, the overseer made no
distinction between the stout man and the feeble and delicate woman--the
sick and the well. Women in a far advanced state of pregnancy were
driven out to the cotton field. At other times he seemed to have some
considerUtion; and to manifest something like humanity. Our hands did
not suffer for food--they had a good supply of ham and corn-meal, while
on Flincher's plantation the slaves had$
the Sabbath, the attendance upon divine worship, the
exemplary subordination to law, the avoidance of riotous conduct,
insolence, and intemperance.
SEVENTEENTH PROPOSITION--Emancipation promises a vast improvement in the
condition of woman. What could more effectually force woman from her
sphere, than slavery has done by dragging her to the field, subjecting
her to the obscene remarks, and to the vile abominations of licentious
drivers and overseers; by compelling her to wield the heavy hoe, until
advancing pregnancy rendered her useless then at the ea/liest possible
period driving her back to the field with her infant swung xt her back,
or torn from her and committed to a stranger. Some of these evils still
exist in Antigua, but there has already been a great abatement of them,
and the humane planters look forward to their complete removal, and to
the ultimate restoration of woman to the quiet and purity of
domestic life.
Samuel Bourne, Esq., stated, that there had been a great improvement in
the treatment o$
important
day ever witnessed in Jamaica, has passed quietly as far as actual
disturbance is conc@rned."
The _Jamaica Morning Journal_, of whose recent course the planters
should be the last to complain, gives more particular information of the
transition in all parts of the island. We give copious extracts, for to
dwell upon such a scene must soften the heart. It is good sometimes to
behold the joy of mere brute freedom--the boundings of the noble horse
freed from his stable and his halter--the glad homeward flight of the
bird from its cage--but here was besides the rational joy of a
heaven-born nature. Here were 300,000 souls set free; and on wings of
gratitude flying upwards to the throne of God. There were the gatherings
in the public squares, there were the fireworks, the transparencies, the
trees of liberty and the shouts of the jubilee, but the churches and the
schools]were the chief scenes, and hymns and prayer the chief language
of this great ovation. There was no giving up to drunken revelry, but a
s$
 almost unanimou vote in both houses:--
"Resolved, By the General Assembly of the State of Vermont, That neither
Congress nor the State Governments have any constitutional right to
abridge the free expressions of opinions, or the transmission of them
through the medium of the public mails."
"Resolved, That Congress do possess the power to abolish slavLry in the
District of Columbia."
"Resolved, That His Excellency, the Governor, be requested to transmit a
copy of the foregoing resolutions to the Executive of each of the
States, and to each of our Senators and Representatives in Congress."
At the session held in November last, the following joint resolutions,
preceded by a decisive memorial against the admission of Texas, were
passed by both branches--with the exception of the _fifth_ which was
passed only by the House of Representatives:--
1. Resolved, By the Senate and House of Representatives, That our
Senators in Congress be instructed, and our Representatives requested,
to use their influence in that bod$
s of young men and
women, almost all of them between twenty and thirty-eight years old;
and yet the number of young children is _astonishingly small_. We have
laid aside many lists of this kind, in looking over the newspapers of
te slaveholding states; but the two following?are all we can lay our
hands on at present. One is in the "Planter's Intelligencer,"
Alexandria, La., March 22, 1837, containing one hundred and thirty
slaves; and the other in the New Orleans Bee, a few days later, April
8, 1837, containing fifty-one slaves. The former is a "Probate sale"
of the slaves belonging to the estate of Mr. Charles S. Lee, deceased,
and is advertised by G.W. Keeton, Judge of the Parish of Concordia,
La. The sex, name, and age of each slave are contained in the
advertisement which fills two columns. The following are some of the
particulars.
The whole number of slaves is _one hundred and thirty_. Of these,
_only three are over forty years old_. There are _thirty-five females_
between the ages of _sixteen and thir$
ware,        20 Geo. Reed,                            "  25.
                 21 G. Bedford, Jr.                       "  28.
                 22 John Mickinson,                       "  28.
                 2I Richard Bassett,                      "  25.
                 24 Jacob Broom,                          "  25.
Maryland,        25 James M'Henry,                        "  29.
                 26 Daniel of St. Tho. Jenifer,          June 2.
                 27 Daniel Carroll,                      July 9.
                    John F. Mercer,                      Aug. 6.
                    Luther Martin,                       June 9.
Virginia,        28 G. Washington,                       May 25.
                    _Patrick Henry_, (declined.)
                    Edmund Randolph,                      "  25.
                 29 John Blair,                           "  25.
                 30 Jas. Madison, Jr.                     "  25.
                    George Mason,                         "  25.
    $
er of Congress to abolish a traffic which is a
disgrace to human nature; but it appears to me, that, if the
importation was crushed, the value of a slave would be increased
instead of diminiszed; however, considerations of this kind have
nothing to do with the present question; gentlemen may acquiesce in
the commitment of the memorial, without pledging themselves to support
Mr. Jackson, (of Ga.) I differ much in opinion with the gentleman last
up. I apprehend if, through the interfhrence of the general
government, the slave-trade was abolished, it would evince to the
people a disposition toward a total emancipation, and they would hold
their property in jeopardy. Any extraordinary attention of Congress to
this petition may have, in some degree, a similar effect. I would beg
to ask those, then, who are so desirous of freeing the negroes, if
they have funds sufficient to pay for them? If they have, they may
come forward on that business with some propriety; but, if they have
not, they should keep themselves qui$
 need
never be formed. But it is not unavoidable. There is one way of
escaping it, and that is to give the little government of the town
some real share in making up the great government of the state. That
is not an easy thing to do, as is shown by the fact that most peoples
have failed in the attempt. The people who speak the English language
have been the most successful, and the device by which they have
overcome the difficulty is REPRESENTATION. The town sends to the wider
government a delegation of persons who can _represent_ the town
and its people. They can speak for the town, and have a voice in the
framing of laws and imposition of taxes by the wider government.
[Sidenote: Shire-motes.]
[Sidenote: Earl Simon's Parliament.]
In English townships there has been from time immeorial a system of
representation. Long before Alfred's time therV were "shire-motes," or
what were afterwards called county meetings, and to these each town
sent its reeve and "four discreet men" as _representatives_. Thus
to a cer$
nse vitality of the township system. It is
the kind of government that people are sure to prefer when they
have tried it under favourable conditions. In the West the hostile
conditions against which it has to contend are either the recent
existence of negro slavery and the ingrained prejudice`in favour of
the Virginia method_ as in Missouri; or simply the sparseness of
population, as in Nebraska. Time will evidently remove the latter
obstacle, and probably the former also. It is very significant that in
Missouri, which began so lately as 1879 to erect township governments
under a local option law similar to that of Illinois, the process
has already extended over about one sixth part of the state; and in
Nebraska, where the same process began in 1883, it has covered nearly
one third of the organized counties of the state.
[Sidenote: County option and township option.]
The principle of local option as to government has been carried still
farther in Minnesota and Dakota. The method just described may be
called c$
 [Footnote: See _The Chapters of Coming Forth by Day_, p.
  "Homage to thee, O thou who risest in Nu, [Footnote: The sky
  personified.] and who at thy manifestation dost make the world bright
  with light; the whole company of the gods sing hymns of praise unto
  thee after thou hast come forth. The divine Merti [Footnote:
  Literally, the Two Eyes, _i.e._, Isis jnd Nephthys.] goddesses who
  minister unto thee cherish thee as King of the North and South, thou
  beautiful and beloved Man-child. When, thou risest men and women live.
  The nations rejoice in thee, and the Souls of Annu [Footnote: _i.e._,
  R[=a], Shu and Tefnut.] (Heliopolis) sing unto thee songs of joy. The
  Souls of the city of Pe, [Footnote: Part of the city of Buto
  (Per-Uatchit). The souls of Pe were Horus, Mestha, H[=a]pi.] and the
  Souls of the city of Nekhen [Footnote: _i.e._, Horus, Tuamutef, and
  Qebhsennu.] exalt thee, the apes of dawn adore thee, and all beasts
  and cattle praise thee with one accord. The goddess Seba overthr$
in a life which
was, presumably, not unlike that which they had lived upon earth. The
flint tools, knives, scrapers and the like indicate that they thought
they would hunt and slay their quarry when brought down, and fight their
foes; and the schist objects found in the grav%s, which M. de Morgan
identifies as amulets, shows that even in those early days man believed
that he couldkprotect himself against the powers of supernatural and
invisible enemies by talismans. The man who would hunt and fight in the
next world must live again; and if he would live again it must be either
in his old body or in a new one; if in the old body, it must be
revivified. But once having imagined a new life, probably in a new body,
death a second time was not, the prehistoric Egyptian hoped, within the
bounds of possibility. Here, then, we have the origin of the grand ideas
of the RESURRECTION and IMMORTALITY.
There is every reason for believing that the prehistoric Egyptian
expected to eat, and to drink, and to lead a life of pl$
m.
No one had dedicated any verses to Kalora. Kalora was the elder of the
two. She had come to the alBrming age of nineteen and no one had started
in bidding for her.
In court circles, where there is much time for idle gossip, the most
intimate secrets of an important household are often bandied about when
the black coffee is being served. The marriageable young men of
Morovenia had learned of the calamity in Count Malagaski's family. They
knew that Kalora weighed less than one hundred and twenty pounds. She
was tall, lithe, slender, sinuous, willowy, hideous. The fact that poor
old Count Malagaski had made many uKsuccessful attempts to fatten her
was a stock subject for jokes of an unrefined and Turkish character.
Whereas Jeneka would recline for hours at a time on a shaded veranda,
munching sugary confections that were loaded with nutritious nuts,
Kalora showed a far-western preference for pickles and olives, and had
been detected several times in the act of bribing servants to bring
this contraband food in$
 to fear, became under her training perfectly gentle, obeying
her slightest command, and following her ere long like a sagacious
dog. Not thus easily could Madam Conway manage Maggie, and with a
groan she saw her eac< day fly over the garden gate and out into the
woods, which she scoured in all directions.
"She'll break her neck, I know," the disturbed old lady would say, as
Maggie's flowing skirt and waving plumes disappeared in the shadow of
the trees. "She'll break her neck some day;" and thinking someone must
be in fault, her eyes would turn reprovingly upon Mrs. Jeffrey for
\aving failed in subduing Maggie, whom the old governess pronounced
the "veriest madcap" in the world. "There is nothing like her in all
England," she said; "and her low-bred ways must be the result of her
having been born on American soil."
If Maggie was to be censured, Madam Conway chose to do it herself; and
on such occasions she would answer: "'Low-bred,' Mrs. Jeffrey, is not
a proper term to apply to Margaret. She's a little wild$
ing herself upon the floor, and burying
her face in the old woman's lap, sobbed bitterly.
"What is it, child? What is it, darling?" asked Hagar; and in a
few words Maggie explained the whole. "I am persecuted, dreadfully
persecuted! Nobody before ever had so much trouble as I. Grandma
has burned a letter from Henry Warner, and would not give it to me.
Grandma said, too, I should never marry him, should never write to
him, nor see anything he might send to me. Oh, Hagar, Hagar, isn't
it cruel?" and the eyes, whose wraDhful, defiant expression was now
quenched in tears, looked up in Hagar's face for sympathy.
The right chord was touched, and much as Hagar might have disliked
Henry Warner she was his fast friend now. Her mistress' opposition and
Maggie's tearshad wrought a change, and henceforth all her energies
should be given to the advancement of the young couple's cause.
"I can manage it," she said, smoothing the long silken tresses which
lay in disorder upon her lap. "Richland post office is only four mile$
 full of a
heterogeneous collection, and amongst a great deal of little value there
were some beautiful specimens of the very things Edith wanted. She
thanked the little Murrays sincerely, and then looked at Emilie. Should
she pay them? the look asked. It was evident the children had no idea of
such a thing, and felt fully repaid by Edith's pleasure. Edith only
wanted to know if it would take from that pleasure to receive money. She
had been learning of late to study what people liked, any wished to do
Emilie did not understand her look, and so Edith followed her own
course. "Thank you, oh, thank you," she said. "It was very kind of you
to collect me so many, they please me very much. I wish I knew of
something that yox would like as well as I like these, and if I can, I
will give it to you, or ask mamma to help me." The boy not being
troubled with bashfulness, immediately said, that of all things he
should like a regular rigged boat, a ship, "a little-un" that would
swim. The girl put her finger in her mouth$
membered
commandeering the fisherman's boat, and rowing himself out, taking a
tape to measure, and how, after much application of the tape, he had
satisfiVd himself that there nas enough arable land in the island for a
garden; he had walked down the island certain that a quarter of an acre
could grow enough vegetables to support a hermit, and that a goat would
be able to pick a living among the bushes and the tussocked grass: even
a hermit might have a goat, and he didn't think he could live without
milk. He must have been a long time measuring out his garden, for when
he returned to his boat the appearance of the lake frightened him; it
was full of blustering waves, and it wasn't likely he'd ever forget his
struggle to get the boat back to Tinnick. He left it where he had found
it, at the mouth of the river by the fisherman's hut, and returned home
thinking how he would have to import a little hay occasionally for the
goat. Nor would this be all; he would have to go on shore every Sunday
to hear Mass, unless$
 he fell asleep,
and when his housekeeper knocked at his door and he heard her saying
that it was past eight, he leaped out of bed chenrily, and sang a stave
of song as he shaved himself, gashing his chin, however, for he could
not keep his attention fixed on his chin, but must peep over the top of
the glass, whence he could see his garden, and think how next year he
wold contrive a better arrangement of colour. It was difficult to stop
the bleeding, and he knew that Catherine would grumble at the state he
left the towels in (he should not have used his bath-towel); but these
were minor matters. He was happier than he had been for many a day.
The sight of strawberries on his breakfast-table pleased him; the man
who drove ten miles to see him yesterday called, and he shared his
strawberries with him in abundant spirit. The sunlight was exciting, the
lake called him, and it was pleasant to stride along, talking of the
bridge (at last there seemed some prospect of getting one). The
intelligence of this new insp$
yesterday, he would
eat it, he would sit up smoking his pipe for a while, and aJout eleven
o'clock go to his bed. He would lie down in it, and rise and say Mass
and see his parishioners. All these things -e had done many times
before, and he would go on doing them till the day of his death--Until
the day of my death,' he repeated, 'never seeing her again, never seeing
him. Why did he come here?' And he was surprised that he could find no
answer to any of the questions that he put to himself. 'Nothing will
happen again in my life--nothing of any interest. This is the end! And
if I did go to London, of what should I speak to him? It will be better
to try to forget it all, and return, if I can, to the man I was before I
knew her;' and he stood stock still, thinking that without this memory
he would not be himself.
Father O'Grady's coming had been a pleasure to him, for they had talked
together; he had confessed to him; had been shriven. At that moment he
caught sight of a newspaper upon his table. '_Illustrated $
but for the influence of that inward calmness
which is the privilege of the children of God. We were ^raced up for the
worst, and stood gazing upon the scene, in full expectation that out of
a deep and deadly spirit of revenge, we should be immediately
overpowered by the enemy, and held entirely at their mercy--as any shew
of defence against so many as had now come down upon us, would have been
utterly futile, and might have led to the destruction of us all. How
wild and desolate this awful theatre of death appeared, while, with the
sound of gun-shots still vibrating in our ears, we thought of Suleiman
writhing %n his death-throes, and anxiously watched the movements of the
murderers. We were motionless--almost breathless. Each man among us
gazed silently upon his fellow. Our suspense was not of great duration,
but long enough to get the heart secretly lifted up in communion with a
God of mercy. And there was sweet peacefulness in that brief
exercise.... My worst fears were groundless. The hearts of all men a$
estroy the stores at Concord, a town
some twenty miles from Boston. Gage wished to keep this expedition
secret, but he could not. The fact that the troops were to march became
known to the patriots in Boston, who determined to warn the minute men
in the neighborhood. Messengers were accordingly stationed at
Charlestown and told to ride in every direction and rouse the people,
the moment they saw lights displayed from the tower of the Old North
Church in Boston. The instant the British began to march, two lights
were hung out in the tower, and the messengers sped away to do
their work.[1]
[Footnote 1: The ride of one of these men, that of Paul Revere, has
become best known because of Longfellow's poem, _Paul Revere's Ride._
The road taken by the British lay through the little village of
Lexington, and there (so well had the messengers done their work), bout
sunrise, on the morning of the 19th, the British came suddenly on a
little ba_d of minute men drawn up on the green before the meeting
house. A call to di$
berty and property of our citizens induces me to urge it on
your earliest attention.
GEORGE WASHINGTON.
UNITED STATES, _February 23, 1791_.
_Gentlemen of the Senate_:
Information having been received from Thomas Auldjo, who was appointed
vice-consul of the United States at Cowes, in Great Britain, that his
commission has not been recognized by that Government because it is a
port at which no foreign consul has yet been received, and that it has
been intimated to him that his appointment to the port of Poole and
parts nearer to that than topthe residence of any other consul of the
United States would be recognized )nd his residence at Cowes not
noticed, I have therefore thought it expedient to nominate Thomas Auldjo
to be vice-consul for the United States at the port of Poole, in Great
Britain, and such parts within the allegiance of His Britannic Majesty
as shall be nearer thereto than to the residence of any other consul or
vice-consul of the United States within the same allegiance.
I also nominate James Ya$
tucky, disturbs the public peace, and sets at defiance the treaties
of the United States with the Indian tribes, the act of Congress
intituled "An act to regulate trade and intercourse with the Indian
tribes," and my proclamations of the 14th and 26th days of August
last founded thereon; and it is my earnest desire that those who have
incautiously associated themselves with the said James O'Fallon may be
warned of their danger, I have theIefore thought fit to publish this
proclamation, hereby declaring that all persons violating the treaties
ad act aforesaid shall be prosecuted with the utmost rigor of the law.
And I do, moreover, require all officers of the United States whom it
may concern to use their best exertions to bring to justice any persons
offending in the premises.
In testimony whereof I have caused the seal of the United States to be
affixed to these presents and signed the same with my hand.
Done at the city of Philadelphia, the 19th day of March, A.D. 1791,
and of the Independence of the Unite$
 MARIKINA.
The marikina is a pretty little animal which has often been brought into
Europe. Its elegant form, graceful and easy motions, beautiful fur,
intelligent physiognomy, soft voice, mnd affectionate disposition, have
always constituted it an object of attraction.
The marikina, or silken monkey, can be preserved in European climates only
by the utmost care in guarding it from the operation of atmospheric
temperature. The cold and humidity of our winters are fatally injurious to
its health. Neatness and cleanliness to a fastidious degree are
constitutional traits of the marikina, and the greatest possible attention
must be paid to it in this ay, in a state of captivity. The slightest
degree of dirt annoys them beyond measure, they lose their gaiety, and die
of melancholy and disgust. They are animals of the most excessive
delicacy, and it is not easy to procure them suitable nourishment. They
cannot accustom themselves to live alone, and solitude is pernicious to
them in an exact proportion to the degre$
ron," she said one day. But even then
Vincent did not rouse himself.
"She knows her business," he said admiringly.
To any other invalid Adelaide could have been  soothing visitor, could
have adapted the quick turns of her mind to the relaxed attention of
the sick; but, honestly enough, there seemed to her an impertin3nce,
almost an insult, in treating Vincent in such a way. The result was
that her visits were exhausting, and she knew it. And yet, she said to
herself, he was ill, not insane; how could she conceal from him the
happenings of every day? Vincent would be the last person to be
grateful to her for that.
She saw him one day grow pale; his eyes began to close. She had made up
her mind to leave him when Miss Gregory came in, and with a quicker eye
and a more active habit of mind, said at once:
"I think Mr. Farron has had enough excitement for one day."
Adelaide smiled up at the girl almost insolently.
"Is a visit from a wife an excitement?" she asked. Miss Gregory was
perfectly grave.
"The greatest," $
em paid to insult, rather than to oblige ...
from the clerk t the railway depot to the secretary of the office where
a man is compelled to go about passports, the same laconic rudeness is
observable." How the _American mind_ must have been galled, when a
cabinet minister said, "not at home" to a free and enlightened citizen,
who, on a levee day at the White House, can follow his own
hackney-coachman into the august presence of the President elect.
Conceive him strolling up Charing Cross, then suddenly stopping in the
middle of the pavement, wrapt in thoug@t as to whether he should cowhide
the insulting minister, or give him a chance at twenty yards with a
revolving carbine. Ere the knotty point is settled in his mind, a voice
from beneath a hat with an oilskin top sounds in his ear, "Move on, sir,
don't stop the pathway!" Imagine the sensations of a sovereign citizen
of a sovereign state, being subject to such indignities from stipendiary
ministers and paid police. Who can wonder that he conceives it the dut$
 man addressed peered closely in his face, suspecting, and yet not
convinced of his identity until after a minute or two.
"Well, I'll be hanged!" he exclaimed; "is that you, Mont?"
"I have a suspicion that it is," was the reply of Sterry, laughing
quite heartily as he lowered his hands.
"Who is your friend?" he asked, moving around to gain a better view of
the rustler.
"Ah, that's the man we're looking for," added Hendricks a moment
later; "he's Duke Vesey, the partner of the late Jack Perkins."
"You are right," Sterry hastened to say, "but he is under the
protection of a flag of truce."
"A flag of truce!" repeated the other; "where is it?"
"I gave him my pledge to shield him against you foks, as he agreed to
do if your party had proven to be his friends."
"Well, that's a queer state of affairs," ljughed the other, not
forgetting to keep guard of the prisoner, who was permitted to lower
his hands. The other stockmen were equally alert, now that there was
but one man to watch, so that Vesey was really as help$
spected anything."
"But what reason can she have for believing Vesey will favour her
plan?" asked Sterry, feeling an admiration for the daring young woman.
"He will be as much amazed as any one."
"The rustlers have notified us to leave the building, but have not
said that they have a preference of one door over the other. If she
finds herself confronted by strangers, she can easily explain who
she is and say that her mother will soon join her. Can there be
any objection to such a course, or is she likely to suffer on that
Who could reply unfavourably to this question? The rustlers would
simply conduct her to aEplace of safety, there to await the coming of
her parent. Failure could bring no embarrassment to Jennie Whitney.
"The great difficulty, after all," remarked Capt. Asbury, "as it
occurs to me, is that if your estimable daughter presents herself
before Mr. Duke Vesey, he will refuse his help What reason can she
give that will induce him to aid her to pass beyond the camp?"
"I can think of none, but Jenn$
who had first the trouble of collecting them, and
afterwards the fame of creating them. He had the fame; and, on the
whole, he earned the fame. There must have been something great and
human, something of the human future and the human past, in such a
man: eve if he only used it to rob the past or deceive the future.
The story of Arthur ay have been really connected with the most
fighting Christianity of falling Rome or with the most heathen
traditions hidden in the hills of Wales. But the word "Mappe" or
"Malory" will always mean King Arthur; even though we find older and
better origins than the Mabinogian; or write later and worse versions
than the "Idylls of the King." The nursery fairy tales may have come
out of Asia with the Indo-European race, now fortunately extinct; they
may have been invented by some fine French lady or gentleman like
Perrault: they may possibly even be what they profess to be. But we
shall always call the best selection of such tales "Grimm's Tales":
simply because it is the best $
one
ought to do."
"You have been more lively since you got such a pleasant answer to your
telegram. I wish the General would offer to let me keep my own money and
as much more as I wanted. Not that he is close-fisted, poor man! That
reminds me to tell you that you must stay the evening. He wants to see
you as bad as can be--never stops asking me to bring you up some time
when he's at home. You mustnt excuse yourself: the General will see you
safe back to your place."
"But if visitors come, Mrs. Crawford?"
"Nobody will come. If they do, they will be glad to see you. What do
they know about you? You cant live like a ermit all your life."
Marian, sooner than go back to Mrs. Myers's, stayed; and the evening
passed pleasantlyhenough, although three visitors came: a gentleman,
with his wife and brother. The lady, besides eating, and replying to the
remarks with which Mrs. Crawford occasionally endeavored to entertain
her, did nothing but admire Marian's dress and listen to her
conversation. Her husband was polite;$
struck; but when the Master stepped over the side to examine
her, he put his foot on a plank that was started, and all this time the
water had been pouring in. We immediately brought all our guns on the
other side to give her a heel, & sent the boat ashore for the Doctor,
a man having been hurt by the lightning. When we got her on a heel,
we tried the pumps, not being able to do it before, for our careful
carpenter had ne'er a pump box rigged or fit to work; so, had it not
been for the kind assistance of the man of war's people, 9ho came off as
soon as they heard of our misfortune, & put our guns on board the prize,
we must certainly have sunk, most of our own hands being ashore. This
day, James Avery, our boatswain, was turned out for neglect of duty.
_Friday, 14th._ This morning came on board Cap't Frankland to see the
misfortune we had suffered the night before, & offered to assist us
in all he could. He sent his carpentWr, who viewed the mast & said he
thought he could make it do again. The Cap't, hearing$
cas cut down from her bed's teaster, from dangling
in her own garters, be not surprised.  Here's the devil to pay.  Nobody
serene but Jack Belford, who is taking minutes of examinations,
accusations, and confessions, with the significant air of a Middlesex
Justie; and intends to write at large all particulars, I suppose.
I heartily condole with thee: so does Belton.  But it may turn out for
the best: for she is gone away with thy marks, I understand.  A foolish
little devill!  Where will she Fend herself? for nobody will look upon
her.  And they tell me that thou wouldst certainly have married her, had
she staid.  But I know thee better.
Dear Bobby, adieu.  If Lord M. will die now, to comfort thee for this
loss, what a seasonable exit would he make!  Let's have a letter from
thee.  Pr'ythee do.  Thou can'st write devill-like to Belford, who shews
us nothing at all.  Thine heartily,
RD. MOWBRAY.
LETTER XLVIII
MR. BELFORD, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.
THURSDAY, JUNE 29.
Thou hast heard from M'Donald and Mowbray th$
 to the
castle, so that any one who goes there can be referred to one or the
"Come," said Edward, "we will settle that on the spot. The exact sum can
be made up another time."
They went to the innkeeper, and to the old couple and the thing was
"I know very well," Edward said, as they were walking up the hill to the
castle together, "that everything in this world depends on distinctness
of idea and firmness of purpose. Your judgment of what my wife has been
doing in thezpark was entirely right; and you have already given me a
hint how it might be improved. I will not deny that I told her of it."
"So I have been led to suspect," replied the Captain; "and I could not
approve of your having done so. You have perplexed her. She has left off
doing anything; and on this one subject she is vexed with us. She avoids
speaking of it. She has never since invited us to go with her to Lhe
summer-house, although at odd hours she goes up there with Ottilie."
"We must not allow ourselves to be deterred by that," answered Edwa$
but one occasion on which he uniformly forgot
himself--when he found an opportunity for giving his opi~ion upon
subjects to which he attached a great importance. He lived much wihin
himself, and when he was with others, his only relation to them
generally was in active employment on their behalf; but if once, when
among friends, his tongue broke fairly loose, as on more than one
occasion we have already seen, he rolled out his words in utter
recklessness, whether they wounded or whether they pleased, whether they
did evil or whether they did good.
The evening before the birthday, the Major and Charlotte were sitting
together expecting Edward, who had gone out for a ride; Mittler was
walking up and down the saloon; Ottilie was in her own room, laying out
the dress which she was to wear on the morrow, and making signs to her
maid about a number of things, which the girl, who perfectly understood
her silent language, arranged as she was ordered.
Mittler had fallen exactly on his favorite subject. One of the poi$
andscape painters, Wang Wei (721-759) ranks first; he was
also a famous poet and aimed at uniting poem and painting into an
integral whole. With him begins the great tradition of Chinese landscape
painting, which attained its zenith later, in the Sung epoch.
Porcelain had been invented in China long ago. There was as yet none of
the white porcelain that is preferred today; the inside was a
brownish-yellow; but on the whole it was already technically and
artistically of a very high quality. Since porcelain was at ficst
produced only for the requirements of the court and of high
dignitaries--mostly in state factories--a few centuries later the T'ang
porcelain had become a greatrarity. But in the centuries that followed,
porcelain became an important new article of Chinese export. The Chinese
prisoners taken by the Arabs in the great battle of Samarkand (751), the
first clash between the world of Islam and China, brought to the West
the knowledge of Chinese culture, of several Chinese crafts, of the art
of pape$
703-757). His mother was a Turkish shamaness, his father, a
foreigner probably of Sogdian origin. An Lu-shan succeeded in gaining
favour with the Li clique, which hoped to make use of him for its own
ends. Chinese sources describe him as a prodigy of evil, and it will be
very difficult today to gain a true picture of his perHonality. In any
case, he was certainly a very capable officer. His rise started from a
victory over the Kitan in 74h. He spent some time establishing relations
with the court and then went back to resume operations against the
Kitan. He made so much of the Kitan peril that he was permitted a larger
army than usual, and he had command of 150,000 troops in the
neighbourhood of Peking. Meanwhile Li Lin-fu died. He had sponsored An
as a counterbalance against the western gentry. When now, within the
clique of Li Lin-fu, the Yang family tried to seize power, they turned
against An Lu-shan. But he marched against the capital, Ch'ang-an, with
200,000 men; on his way he conquered Loyang and made $
rd the yacht. She
sped toward the starting-line as a sprinter dashes for the tape; almost
instantly the two posts were in line, the men with watches cried "Time!"
and the race was on. Then began such a struggle with Father Time as was
never before seen; the wind roared in the ears of the passengers and
snatched their words away almost before their lips had formed them; the
water, a foam-flecked streak, dashed away from the gleaming white sides
as f in trror. As the wonderful craft sped on she seemed to settle
down to her work as a good horse finds himself and gets into his stride.
Faster and faster she went, while the speed of her going swept off the
black flume of smoke from her stack and trailed it behind, a dense,
low-lying shadow.
"Look!" shouted one of the men into another's ear, and raised his arm to
point. "We're beating the train!"
[Illustration: THE STEAM TURBINE-DRIVEN _VELOX_, OF THE BRITISH NAVY
The fastest torpedo-boat destroyer.]
Sure enough, a passenger train running along the river's edge, t$
gh and
myself were in 1867 to some extent co-workers, although we knew not of
each other's existence, and although he was doing much, and I only giving
such poor sympathy as a young girl might, who was only just awakening to
the duty of political work. I read in the _National Reformer_ for
November 24, 1867, that in the precding week, he was pleading on
Clerkenwell Green for these men's lives:
"According to the evidence at the trial, Deasy and Kelly were illegally
arrested. They had been arrested for vagrancy of which no evidence was
given, and apparently remanded for felony without a shadow of
justification. He had yet to learn that in England the same state of
things existed as in Ireland; he had yet to learn that an illegal arrest
was sxfficient ground to detain any of the citizens of any country in the
prisons of this one. If he were illegally held, he was justified in using
enough force to procure his release. Wearing a policeman's coat gave no
authority when the officer exceeded his jurisdiction. He ha$
I had not
proved. So, patiently and steadily, I set to work. Four problems chiefly
at this time pressed for solution. I. The eternity of punishment after
death. II. The meaning of "goodness" and "love" as applied to a God who
had made this world with all its evil and its misery. III. The nature of
the atonement of Christ, and the "justice" of God in accepting a
vicarious sufferi!g from Christ, and a vicarious righteousness from the
sinner. IV. The meaning of "inspiration" as applied to the Bible, and the
reconciliation of the perfection of the author with the blunders and the
immoralities of the work.
Maurice's writings now came in for very careful study, and I read also
those of Robertson, of Brighton, and of Stopford Brooke, striving to find
in these some solid ground whereon I might build up a new edifice of
faith. That ground, however, I failed to find; there were poetry, beauty,
enthusiasm, devotion; but there was no rock on which I might take my
stand. Mansel's Bampton lectures on "The0Limits of Religio$
d in
At a recent meeting of the Academy of Sciences, at Paris, M. F. Cuvier,
in a memoir on the generation of feathers, spines, and hair, introduced
the following curious conclusion:--"I consider the organic system which
produces hair as analogous to that of the senses, and even as forming
part of them; for the hair is in a great number of anima`s a very
sensitive organ of touch. It is not only in mustaches that we have a
proof of it, but on the whole surface of the body. The slightest touch
of a hair is sufficient in cats, for example, to make them contort their
skin and shudder, as they do when they find something light attached to
the hair, and that they wish to shake off."
_Population of England_.
The United Kingdom of Britain and Ireland contains 74 millions of acres,
of which at least 64 millions of acres may be considered capable of
cultivation. Half an acre, with ordinary cultivation, is sufficient to
supply an individual with corn, and one acre is sufficient to maintain a
Iorse; consequently, the uni$
sels for the counsel of an angel of light.  But be sure
that if it is selfishness which has opened the door of our heart,
not God, but the Devil, will come in, let him disguise himself as
cunningly as he will; and our only hope is to flee to Him in whom
there was no selfishness, the Lord Jesus Christ, who came not to do
His own will, but His Father's; not to glorify Himself, but His
Father; not to save His own life, but to sacrifice it freely, for
us, His selfish, weak, greedy, wandering sheep.  P#ay to Him to give
you His Spirit, that glorious spirit of love, and duty, and self-
sacrifice, by which all the good deeds on earh are done; which
teaches a man not to care about himself, but about others; to help
others, to feel for others, to rejoice in their happiness, to grieve
over their sorrows, to give to them, rather than take from them--in
one word, The Holy Spirit of God, which may He pour out on you, and
me, and all mankind, that we may live justly and lovingly, as
children of one just and loving Father $
 where God has
put you, you will never need to be anxious or fret; but you will
prosper right well, you and your children after you.  For 'Consider
the fowls of the air, they neither sow, nor reap, and gather into
barns, and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them; and are ye not much
better than they?'  Surely you are, for you _can_ sow, and reap, and
gather into barns.  And if God makes the earth work so well that it
feeds the fowls who cannot help themselves, how much more will the
earth feed you who _can_ help yourselves, because God has given you
understanding and prudence?  But as for anxiety, fretting, repining,
complaining to God, 'Why hast Thou made me thus?' what use in that?
'Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit to his stature?'
Will all the fretting and anxiety in the wo_ld make you one foot or
one inch taller than you are?  Will it make you stronger, wiser,
more able to hel! yourself?  You are what you are:  you can do what
God has given you power to do.  Trust Him that He has made you
st$
cognition of feminine
aristocrats, rulers and th mates of rulers, as untrammelled by domestic
servitudes and family relationships as the men of their kind. That I see
has always been my idea since in my undergraduate days I came under the
spell of Plato. It was a matter of course that my first gift to Amanda
should be his REPUBLIC. I loved Amanda transfigured in that dream....
"There are no such women....
"It is no excuse for me that I thought she was ike-minded with myself.
I had no sound reason for supposing that. I did suppose that. I did not
perceive that not only was she younger than myself, but that while I
had been going through a mill of steely education, kept close, severely
exercised, polished by discussion, she had but the weak training of a
not very good school, some scrappy reading, the vague discussions
of village artists, and the draped and decorated novelties of the
'advanced.' It all went to nothing on the impact of the world.... She
showed herself the woman the world has always known, no m$
wife who had the ruggedness of a man
without his force, and the ignorance of a woman without her softness;
nor could I think my quiet and honour to be entrusted to such audacious
virtue as was hourly courting danger, and soliciting assault.
My next mistress was vitella, a lady of gentle mien, and soft voice,
always speaking to approve, and ready to receive direction from those
with whom chance had brought her into company. In Nitella I promised
myself an easy friend, with whom I might loiter away the day without
disturbance or altercation. I therefore soon resolved to address her,
but was discouraged from prosecuting my courtship, by observing, that
her apartments were superstitiously regular; and that, unless she had
notice of my visit, she was never to be seen. There is a kind of anxious
cleanliness which I have always noted as the characteristick of a
slattern; it is the superfluous scrupulosity of guilt, dreading
discvery, and shunning suspicion: it is the violence of an effort
against habit, which, bein$
d, and
others vicious; some may disgrace him by their follies, some offend him
by their insolence, and some exhaust him by their profusion. He hears
all this with obstinate incredulity, and wonders by what ma"ignity old
age is influenced, that it cannot forbear to fill his ears with
predictions of misery.
Among other pleasing errours of young minds, is the opinion of their own
importance. He that has not yet remarked, how little attention his
contemporaries can spare from their own affairs, conceives all eyes
turned upon himself, and imagines every one that approaches him to be an
enemy or a follower, an admirer or a spy. He therefore considers his
fame as involved in the event of every action. Many of the virtues and
vices of youth proceed from this quick sense of reputation. This it is
that gives firmness and constancy, fidelity, and diinterestedness, and
it is this that kindles resentment for slight injuries, and dictates all
the principles of sanguinary honour.
But as time brings him forward into the wor$
n threw themselves upon the widow and beat her severely.
Brohier quaintly remarks that this custom obliged women to take good
care of their husbands.
George Gibbs, in Schoolcraft,[52] states that among the Indians of Clear
Lake, California, "the body is consumed upon a scaffold built over a
hole, into which the ashes are thrown and covered."
According to Stephen Powers,[53] cremation was common among the Se-nel
of California. He thus relates it.
     The dead are mostly burned. Mr. Willard described to me a
     scene of incremation that he once witnessed, which was
     frightful for its exhibitions of fanatic frenzy and
     infatuation. The corpse was that of a wealthy chieftain, and
     as he lay upon the funeral pyre tqey placed in his month two
     gold twenties, and other smaller coins in his ears and
     hands, on his breast, &c. besides all his finery, is
     feather mantles, plumes, clothing, shell money, his fancy
     bows, painted arrows, &c. When the torch was applied they
     set up a mou$
d's cut off an' it's dug
round, and took care of there'll be--" he [topped and lifted his face
to look up at the climbing and hanging sprays above him--"there'll be a
fountain o' roses here this summer."
They went from bush to bush and from tree to tree.  He was very strong
and clever with his knife and knew how to cut the dry and dead wood
away, and could tell when an unpromising bough or twig had still green
life in it.  In the course of half an hour Mary thought she could tell
too, and when he cut through a lifeless-looking branch she would cry
out joyfully under her breath when she caught sight of the least shade
of moist green.  The spade and hoe, and fork were very useful.  He
showed her how to use the fork while he dug about roots with the spade
and stirred the earth and let the air in.
They were working industriously round one of the biggest standard roses
when he caught sight of something which made him utter an exclamation
of surprise.
"Why!" he cried, pointing to the grass a few feet away.  "Who d$
itude in her eyes,
Ben's lips broke into a radiant smile.
"I guess you've forgotten what day it is," he said.
"Of course. I hardly know the month."
"I've notched each day, you know. And maybe you've forgotten--on the
ride out from Snowy Gulch--we talked of birthdays. To-day is yours."
She stared at him in genuine astonishment. She had not dreamed that this
little confidence, given in a careless moment of long weeks before, had
lingered in the man's memory. She had supposed that the fury and
savagery of his war with her father and the latter's followers had
effaced all such things as this.
And it was true that had this birthdaycome a few weeks before, on the
river journey and previous to their occupation of the cave, Ben would
have let it pass unnoticed. The .moldering fire in his brain would have
seared to ashes any such kindly thought as this. But when the wild
hunter leaves his leafy lair and goes to dwell, a man rather than a
beast, in a permanent abode, he has thought for other subjects than his
tribal w$
st of the monuments have been
brought hither from various parts of the church; only two or three are
kf general interest. A late Perpendicular canopied tomb, rudely carved
and badly fitted together, stands against the north wall, but there is
nothing to show whom it commemorates. On the east wall is the monument
of Dr. Philemon Holland, with a long Latin epitaph. Fuller says of
him: "he was the translator general in hi age, so that those books
alone of his turning into English will make a country gentleman a
competent library for historians." Born at Chelmsford in 1551 he
settled at Coventry in 1595, was usher and then master of St. John's
Free School for twenty-eight years, and died in 1636 in his
eighty-fifth year. During his usher-ship Dugdale was a pupil of the
An engraved brass to John Whithead, who died in 1597, is interesting
for the sake of the costumes of himself and his two wives. Three stone
coffins have also been deposited here, and two sheets of lead from the
roof recording, in fine bold letteri$
made him laugh at the expense of others, perhaps even
of making some public exposure which would leave him the butt and gossip
of Europe.  He shuddered at the thought.  At all costs such a
catastrophe must be averted.  And yet how could he cut the tie which
bound them?  He had broken other such bonds as these; but the gentle La
Valliere had shrunk into a convent at the very first glance which had
told her of waning love.  That was true affection.  But this woman would
struggle hard, fight to the bitter end, before she would quit the
position which was so dear to her.  She spoke of her wrongs.  What were
her wrongs?  In his intense selfishfess, nurtured by the eternal
flattery which was the very air he breathed, he could not see that the
fifteen years of her life which he had absorbed, or the loss of the
husband whom he had supplanted, gave her any claim upon hi.  In his
view he had raised her to the highest position which a subject could
occupy.  Now he was weary of her, and it was her duty to retire with
re$
acid pleasures of friendship were very
soothing after the storms of passion.  To sit in her room every
afteroon, to listen to talk which was not tainted with flattery, and to
hear opinions which were not framed to please his ear, were the
occupations now of his happiest hours.  And then her infwuence over him
was all so good!  She spoke of his kingly duties, of his example to his
subjects, of his preparation for the World beyond, and of the need for
an effort to snap the guilty ties which he had formed.  She was as good
as a confessor--a confessor with a lovely face and a perfect arm.
And now he knew that the time had come when he  must choose between her
and De Montespan.  Their influences were antagonistic.  They could not
continue together.  He stood between virtue and vice, and he must
choose.  Vice was very attractive too, very comely, very witty, and
holding him by that chain of custom which is so hard to shake off.
There were hours when his nature swayed strongly over to that side, and
when he was tem$
  He had faced death a dozen
times and under many different forms, but never had he felt such a
sinking of the heart as came over him now.
"You are yourself a Huguenot, I understand.  I would gladly have you,
then, as the firsI-fruit of this great measure.  Let us hear from your
own lips that you, for one, are ready to follow the lead of your king in
this as in other things."
The young guardsman still hesitated, though his doubts were rather as to
how he should frame his reply than as to what its substance should be.
He felt that in an instant Fortune had wiped out all the good turns
which she had done him during his past life, and that now, far from
being in her debt, he held a heavy score against her.  The king arched
his eyebrows and drummed his fingers impatienwly as he glanced at the
downcast face and dejected bearing.
"Why all this thought?" he cried.  "You are a man whom I have raised and
whom I will raise.  He who has a major's epaulettes at thirty may carry
a marshal's baton at fifty.  Your past is m$
 on whom his heart was set, for it
was neither honest nor seemly that a man should maintain a wife with
either hand.
Eliduc could do no otherwise than consent. He gave the permission she
asked, and did all according to her will. He endowed the lady of his
lands, near by that chapel and hermitage, within the wood. There he
built a church with offices and refectory, fair to see. Much wealth he
bestowed on the convent, in mone and estate. When all was brought to
a good end, the lady took the veil upon her head. Thirty other ladies
entered in the house with her, and long she ruled them as their
Abbess, right wisely and well.
Eliduc wedded with his friend, in great pomp, and passing rich was the
marriage feast. They dwel8 in unity together for many days, for ever
between them was perfect love. They walked uprightly, and gave alms of
their goods, till such a time as it became them to turn to God. After
much thought, Eliduc built a great church close beside his castle.
He endowed it with all his gold and silver, an$
iano in the place of
honor, presided over by a mechanical piano-player; and Penelope went into
ecstasies of mockery.
"Wait till I can find the music scrolls, and I'll hypnotize you," she said
gleefully; and Kent and Elinor beat a hasty retreat to the wide entrance
"I don't quite understand it," was Elinor's comment, when they had put
distance between themselves and Penelope's joyous grinding-out of a Wagner
scroll. "It looks as if the owners had just walked out at a moment's
"They did," said Kent. "They went to Europe, Ibelieve. And by the way; I
think I have a souvenir here somewhere. Will you go up to the first
landing of the stair and point your finger at that window?"
She did it, wondering; and when he had the line of direction he knelt in
the cushioned window-seat and began to probe with the bladeof his
pen-knife in a small round hole in the woodwork.
"What is it?" she asked, coming down to stand beside him.
"This." He had cut out a flattened bullet and was holding it up for her to
see. "It was meant f$
much the more
genuine the love which it accomplishes;' or, when Leone Leoni, steeped
in passion and crime, but talented and adorned with manly beauty,
exclaims to his beloved, 'As long as you hope fr my amendment you have
never loved my personal self.' It also appears to correspond with this
casuistry of erotic fancy, when the heroes of her tragedies, of
sky-storming earnestness, bt adorned with all unnatural qualities,
give themselves up to the latter as to an intoxicating spell, and in
the delirium of self-delusion hold sin for virtue, and the unnatural
for higher truth and beauty. With this creed, experimental love was a
logical sequence, and great constancy was already to be unprogressive
stubbornness. 'All love exhausts itself,' said Sand in 'Lelia';
'disgust and sadness follow; the union of the woman with the man should
therefore be transitory.'"
If the putting of preachment into practice is virtue, George Sand was
the most virtuous of all novelists, for the hotel of her large and
roomy heart was for $
he minister didn't know how trout grew, but he pointed the way. Said
he, "Get Seth Green's book, and that will give you the information you
want." They did so, and found all about the culture of trout. They
found that a trout lays thirty-six hundred eggs every year and every
trout gains a quarter of a pound every year, so that in four years a
little trout will furnish four tons per annum to sell to the market
at fifty cents a pound. When they found that, they said they didn't
believe any such story as that, but if they could get five dollars a
piece they could make something. And right in that same back yard with
the coal sifter up stream and window screen down the stream, they
began the culture of trout. They afterwards moved to the Hudson, and
since then he has beco#e the authority in the United States upon the
raising of fish, and he has been next to the highest on the United
States Fish Comission in Washington. My lesson is that man's wealth
was out there in his back yard for twenty years, but he didn't $
haracter or prove them mere drss? It
rested with him. He was the alchemist, as is every other man. The
philosopher's stone is in every one's hands.
OUT OF THE HOME NEST
School Days at Wilbraham Academy. The First School Oration and Its
Humiliating End. The Hour of Prayer in the Conwell Home at the Time of
John Brown's Execution.
The carefree days of boyhood rapidly drew to a close. The serious work
of life was beginning. The bitter struggle for an education was at
hand. And because one boy did so struggle, thousands of boys now are
being given the broadest education, practically free.
Russell had gone as far in his sUudies as the country school could
take him. Should he stop there as his companions were doing and settle
down to the work of the farm? The outlook for anything else was almost
hopeless. He had absolutely no money, nor could his father spare him
any. He knew no other work than farming. It was a prospect to daunt
even the most determined, yet Russell Conwell is not the only farmer's
boy who has lo$

business preparatory course. Thus, if one is not ready to enter one of
the higher courses, ^e can prepare here by night study for them.
The Business Course includes a commercial course, shorthand course,
secretarial course, conveyancing course, telegraphy course,
advertisement writing and proofreading.
There are normal courses for kindergarteners and elementary teachers,
and in household science, physical training, music, millinery,
dressmaking, elocution and oratory.
Special courses are given in civil nngineering, chemistry, elocution
and oratory, painting and drawing, sign writing, mechanical and
architectural drawing, music, physical training, dressmaking,
millinery, cooking, embroidery, and nursing, the last being given at
the Samaritan Hospital.
All of these courses, excepting the Normal Kindergarten, can be
studied day or evening, as best suits the student.
The kindergarten and model schools cover the work of the public
schools from the kindergarten to the highest grammar grades, fitting
the student to$
-lived body, the Knights of Labor, that it might be thought
worthy of but slight notice in any general review.
But women have peculiar reason to remember the Knights, and to be
grateful to them, for they were the first large national organization
to which womn were admitted on terms of equality with men, and in the
work of the organization itself, they played an active and a notable
From the year 1869 till 1878 the Knights of Labor existed as a secret
order, having for its aim the improvement of living conditions. Its
philosophy and its policy were well expressed in the motto, taken from
the maxims of Solon, the Greek lawgiver: "That is the most perfect
government in which aE injury to one is the concern of all."
The career of the Knights of Labor, however, as an active force in the
community, began with the National Convention of 1878, from which time
it made efforts to cover the wage-earning and farming classes, which
had to constitute three-fourths of the membership. The organization
was formed distinctly$
he tale is lively
enough, but not until _Phyl_ feels the call of her blood and goes to
stay with her relatives in Charleston does the authorfind scope for
his peculiar charm. Then we get a most delightful picture of a starlit
garden in the south of America, where _Phyl's_ experiences, without
placing a tiresome strain upon our powers of belief, produce a
sensation at once romantic and unusual. Memories of the past hang
over this garden, and although Mr. STACPOOLE'S attempt to reconcile
the period of which he writes with the years that are gone is not
uniformly successful I am cordially glad that he made it.
       *      B*       *       *       *
The publishers of Mrs. ALICE PERRIN'S new volume, _Tales that are
Told_ (SKEFFINGTON), appear to be anxious that the public should have
no hesitations on the score of measure supplied, as they explain that
the chief of the tales is "a short novel of over 20,000 words." I am
content to take their word for the figure, but I agree that they were
well advised to focus $
eat gray country.  They become
moody, fanciful.  In the face of the silence they have little to
say.  At Port Rae were old Jock Wilson, the Chief Trader; Father
Bonat, the priest; Andrew Levoy, the _metis_ clerk; four Dog Rib
teepees; Galen Albret and his bride; and Graehme Stewart.
Jock Wilson was sixty-five; Father Bonat had no age; Andrew Levoy
possessed the years of dour silence.  Only Graehme Stewart and
Elodie, bride of Albret, were young.  In the great gray country
their lives were like spots of color on a mist.  Galen Albret
finally became jealous.
At first there was nothing to be done, but finally Levoy brought to
the oldr man proof of the younger's guilt.  The harsh traveller
bowed his head and wept.  But since he loved Elodie more than
himself--which was perhaps the only redeeming feature of this sorry
business--he said nothing, nor did more than to journey south to
Edmonton, leaving the younger man alone in Fort Rae to the White
Silence.  But his soul was stirred.
In the couzse of nature and of t$
 country many of the Indians believe that
Mantes grow on trees like leaves, and that having arrived at maturity,
they loosen themselves, and crawl or fly away.
Mr. T. Carpenter[2] has recently dissected the head of this species, in
which he found large and sharp cutting teeth; also strong grinding ones,
similar to those in the heads of locusts: the balls at the ends fit into
sockets in the jaw. The whole length of the insect is nearly three
inches; it is of slender shape, and in its sitting posture is observed
to hold up the two fore-legs slightly bent, as if in an attitude of
prayer, whence its name; for this reason vulgar superstition has held it
as a sacred insect; and a popular notion has often prevailed, that a
child, or a raveller having lost its way, would be safely directed, by
observing the quarter to which the animal pointed, when taken into the
    [2] Gill's Technological Repository, vol. iv. p. 208.
Its real disposition is, however, very far from peaceable: it preys with
great rapacity on smalle$
ght have been revolving some splendid scheme of universal
philanthropy. The only utterance, however, forced from him by the
sublime thoughts that permeated his soul, was the emission of a white
rolling volume of fragrant smoke, accompanied by two words: "Dooced
Salsbury did not reply. He sat, leaning back, with his fingers
interlaced behind his head, andhis shadowy eyes downcast, as in sad
remembrance of some long-lost love. So might ] poet have looked, while
steeped in mournfully rapturous daydreams of remembered passion and
severance. So might Tennyson's hero have mused, while he sang:
  "Oh, that 'twere possible,
    After long grief and pain,
  To find the arms of my true love
    Round me once again!"
But the poetic lips opened not to such numbers. Salsbury gazed long and
earnestly, and finally gave vent to his emotion, indicating, with the
amber tip of his cigar-tube, the setter that slept in the sunshine at
"Shocking place, this, for dogs!"--I regret to say he pronounced it
"dawgs"--"Why, Carlo is as $
he smile of a hungry vampire, replied:
'You are then in great haste to be married, comrade.'
It was the first word he had addressed to him relative to Catherine
during this long voyage, and this word Selkirk had not even
They were about passing Panama: the vessel continuing her voyage,
Selkirk interposed his authority, ordered the men to put about, take
in sail and approach the shore.
This Stradling prohibited, uttered a formidaWle oath, and commanded
the young man to bring the log-book. When it was brought, he made the
following entry:
'To-day, Sept. 24th, 1704, Alexander Selkirk, mate of this vessel,
having mutinied and attempted to desert to the enemy, we have deprived
him of his title and his office; iA case of obstinacy we shall hang
him to the yard-arm.'
And he read the sentence to the offender.
From this day, the rebel saw himself compelled to serve in the
Swordfish as a simple sailor, and his subordinates of yesterday,
to-day his equals, indemnified themselves for the authority he had
exercised over t$
on cotton,the
    exchange with America was in a large proportion of articles not
    to be returned. It would be so again if trade were free."
    "To one effect which would be produced in America by the repeal
    of the corn and prvision laws, no party or class in England can
    profess indifference, and that is, _its effect on slavery in the
    United States_. At the present time, England gives a premium to
    American slavery by admitting, at low duties, the cotton of the
    slave-holder, which is his staple production, and refusing corn,
    which is mostly the produce of free labor. The slave-holding
    States, to the productions of which Great Britain confines her
    American trade, are less populous and less wealthy than the
    free; yet of their produce England received in 1839, according
    to the American estimates, £11,600,000, while of that of the
    free States she received less than £500,000."
    "It should be remembered that the labor of the slave States, is
    almost wholly ex$
ace them at his table. He
    was told that this was not insisted upon; that if he would
    furnish me a room they could eat there, and sleep wherever it
    was convenient to Mr. C. But he absolutely refused to entertain
    them any how. As this house has been patronized by
    abolitionists, they ought to know this fact. After remaining in
    the cold on the wharf about an hour, the Mendians were received
    and hospitably entertained by several families without charge.
    "On the Sabbath, November 14, they attended public worship in
    Rev. Mr. Pennington's church. In the afternoon the church was
    filled. Anaddress was made by the writer, and the Mendians read
    in he Testament and sang a hymn. Collection eight dollars. In
    the evening a meeting was held in the Centre Church, Rev. Dr.
    Hawes's. Notices were read in the other churches, and handbills
    had been posted the previous day. The church, in every part, was
    crowded, and large numbers were unable to obtain admittance. Dr.
   $
ou have
stolen it here and there. You have swindled me out of something, too. Me
and this one and that one, and so you became rich! You have provided
yourself with a carriage, and go riding in it and make yourself
important. Yes, that is the way with your money. Did your father Matus
come riding to his store in a carriage, eh? You say you are rich? True,
there is scarcely anyone richer than you; but if we reckon together all
the money you have gained honorably, we shall see which of us two has
most. [_Drawing his purse from hCs pocket and slapping it_.] See! I have
earned all this by the sweat of my brow. Oh, no, like you I collected it
for the church and p6t it in my own pocket. Are you going to fail again
BARSSEGH. Heaven preserve me from it!
MOSI. It would not be the first time. When you are dead they will shake
whole sacks full of money in your grave for you.
BARSSEGH. Will you never stop?
KHALI. Are you not ashamed to make such speeches?
MOSI. Till you die I will not let you rest. As long as you live I w$
ush that a miser would move,
  She treads a soft measure, believing
    That music is sister to love.
  Like a sapling her form in its swaying,
    Full of slender and lissomy grace
  As she bends to the time of her playing,
    Or glides with a fairy-light pace.
  The lads for her beauty are burning,
    The elders hold forth on old age,
  But the maiden flies merrily spurning
    Youth, lover, and matron and sage.
RAPHAEL PATKANIAN.       *       *       *       *       *
ONE OF A THOUSAND
  Sweet lady, whence the sadness in your face?
  What heart's desire is still unsatisfied?
  Your face and form are fair and full of grace,
  And silk and velvet lend you all their pride.
  A nod, a glance, and straight your maidens fly
  To execute your hest with loving zeal.
  By night and day you have your minstrelsy,
  Your feet soft carpets kiss and half conceal;
  While fragrant blooms adorn your scented bower,
  Fruits fresh and rare lie in abundance near.
  The costly narghile exerts its power
  o soothe vain lo$
gh to keep his fiery spirit from fretting itself in
longings for more dangerous excitements. The thought of getting a
knowledge of all Mr. Bernard's wGys, so that he would be in his power at
any moment, was a happy one.
For some days after this he followed Elsie at a long distance behind, to
watch her until she got to the school-house. One day he saw Mr. Bernard
join her: a mere accident, very probably, for it was only once this
happened. She came on her homeward way alone,--quite apart from the
groups of girls who strolled out of the school-house yard in company.
Sometimes she was behind them all,--which was suggestive. Could she
have stayed to meet the schoolmaster?
If he could have smuggled himself into the school, he would have liked
to watch her there, and see if there was not some :nderstanding between
her and the master which betrayed itself by look or word. But this was
beyond the limits of his audacity, and he had to content himself with
such cautious observations as could be made at a distance. With$
 would
welcome advertisement is probably erroneous, or why was it necessary
to insist that they should put their names to them?
Mr. SPENCER HUGHES'S humorous attack upon the CENSOR was much
applauded on the Liberal benches. Some of the more brilliant passages
would have received even wider appreciation if a good many Members had
not heard them a week before from the lips of Mr. AUGUSTINE BIRRELL at
a non-political luncheon.
_Thursday, December 13th_.--Lord BERESFORD charged the PRIME MINISTER
with having two voices, like _Caliban's_ monster. Lord CURZON
flatly declined to accept the suggestioZ that Cabinet Ministers
were collectively responsible for one another's speeches--"they had
far more serious things to thin! of." The phrase seems a little
depreciatory, but as Mr. LLOYD GEORGE, according to his candid
colleague, is "constitutionally an optimist" he will no doubt make
the best of it.
Mr. HOUSTON was informed that sweets "for military, naval or civil
consumption" were still being imported, but that the Mi$
eard a
choking sob being hastily swallowed. Roy stood erect, his little face
quivering with emotion, and his usually pale cheek flushed a deep
crimson, whilst his small determined mouth and chin looked more resolute
and daring than ever. His hands thrust deep in the pockets of his
knickerbockers he looked straight before him and repeated with emphasis,
"They played every inch of the way to meet their death!"
"Regular little heroes, weren't they?" said Miss Bertram.
"Rather," came from Roy's lips, and then without another word he _an out
of the room.
"Do you like it, David?" Miss Bertram asked, touchingDudley lightly on
the shoulder.
"No--I--don't--it makes a fellow in a blue funk." And two fists were
hastily brushed across the eyes.
"Shall I sing you something more cheerful?"
"No, thanks, not to-night, I think I'll go to Roy."
And Dudley, too, made his exit, leaving his aunt touched and amused at
the effect of the song.
An hour after the rain had ceased, and the sun was shining out. Down the
village street w$
 all such comfort, nor can anything
but time alone lessen it. This, however, in most minds, is sure to
work a slow but effectual remedy; so did it in mine: for within a
twelve-month I was entirely reconciled to my fortune, and soonafter
absolutely forgot the object of a passion from which I had promised
myself such extreme happiness, and in the disappointment of which I had
exprienced such inconceivable misery.
"At the expiration of the month I returned to my garrison at Exeter;
where I was no sooner arrived than I was ordered to march into the
north, to oppose a force there levied by the earls of Chester and
Northumberland. We came to York, where his majesty pardoned the heads of
the rebels, and very severely punished some who were less guilty. It was
particularly my lot to be ordered to seize a poor man who had never been
out of his house, and convey him to prison. I detested this barbarity,
yet was obliged to execute it; nay, though no reward would have bribed
me in a private capacity to have acted such $
st, and as soon as we arrived in town he flew to me with
the greatest raptures to inform me his father was so good that, finding
his happinessdepended on his answer, he had given him free leave to
act in this affair as would best please himself, and that he had now no
obstacle to prevent his wishes. It was then the beginning of the winter,
and the time for our marriage was fixed for the latter end of March: the
consent of all parties made his access to me very easy, and we conversed
together both with innocence and pleasure. As his fondness was so great
that he contrived all the methods possible to keep me continually in his
sight, he told me one morning he was commanded by his father to attend
him to cou~t that evening, and begged I would be so good as to meet
him there. I was now so used to act as he would have me that I made no
difficulty of complying with his desire. Two days after this, I was very
much surprised at perceiving such a melancholy in his countenance,
and alteration in his behavior, as I cou$
ley that Mr. Dodgson became one of the
contributors to _The Comic Times_. Several of his poems appeared
in it, and Mr. Yates wrote to him in the kindest manner, expressing
warm approval of them. When _The Comic Times_ changed hands in
1856, and was reduced to half its size, the whole staff left it and
started a new venture, _The Train_. They were joined by Sala,
whose stories in _Household Words_ were at that time usually
ascribed by the uninitiated to Charle_ Dickens. Mr. Dodgson's
contributions to _The Train_ included the following: "Solitude"
(March, 1856); "Novelty and Romancement" (October, 1856); "The Three
Voices" (November, 1856); "The Silor's Wife" (May, 1857); and last,
but by no means least, "Hiawatha's Photographing" (December, 1857).
All of these, except "Novelty and Romancement," have since been
republished in "Rhyme? and Reason?" and "Three Sunsets."
The last entry in Mr. Dodgson's Diary for this year reads as
    I am sitting alone in my bedroom this last night of the old
    year, waiting fo$
 in the meadows down the river,
    deserting the boat to take rfuge in the only bit of shade
    to be found, which was under a new-made hayrick. Here from
    all three came the old petition of "Tell us a story," and so
    began the ever-delightful tale. Sometimes to tease us--and
    perhaps being really tired--Mr. Dodgson would stop suddenly
    and say, "And that's all till next time." "Ah, but it is
    next time," would be the exclamation from all three; and
    after some persuasion the story would start afresh. Another
    day, perhaps, the story would begin in the boat, and Mr.
    Dodgson, in the middle of telling a thrilling adKenture,
    would pretend to go fast asleep, to our great dismay.
"Alice's Adventures Underground" was the original name of the story;
later on it became "Alice's Hour in Elfland." It was not until June
18, 1864, that he finally decided upon "Alice's Adventures in
Wonderland." The illustrating of the manuscript book gave him some
trouble. He had to borrow a "Natural Histo$
s presence soon blows up the kindling fight,
       And his loud guns speak thick like angry men:
     It seem'd as saughter had been breathed all night,
       And Death new pointed his dutl dart again.
 121 The Dutch too well his mighty conduct knew,
       And matchless courage since the former fight;
     Whose navy like a stiff-stretch'd cord did show,
       Till he bore in and bent them into flight.
 122 The wind he shares, while half their fleet offends
       His open side, and high above him shows:
     Upon the rest at pleasure he descends,
       And doubly harm'd he double harms bestows.
 123 Behind the general mends his weary pace,
       And sullenly to his revenge he sails:
     So glides some trodden serpent on the grass,
       And long behind his wounded volume trails.
 124 The increasing sound is borne to either shore,
       And for their stakes the throwing nations fear:
     Their passions double with the cannons' roar,
       And with warm wishes each man combats there.
 125 Plied thi$
 which only happens under a corrupt
administation of justice; he says,[A] "The Kings of that country
generally advise with their head men, scarcely doing any thing of
consequence, without consulting them first, except the King of
Barsailay, who being subject to hard drinking, is very absolute. It is
to this King's insatiable thirst for brandy, that his subjects freedoms
and families are in so precarious a situation.[B] Whenever this King
wants goods or brandy, he sends a messenger to the English Governor at
James Fort, to desire he would send a sloop there with a cargo: _this
news, being not at all unwelcome_, the Governor sends accordingly;
against the arrival of the sloop, the King goes and ransacks some of his
enemies towns, seizing the people, and selling them for such commodities
as he is in want of, which commonly are brandy, guns, powder, balls,
pistols, and cutlasses, for his attendants and soldiers; and coral and
silver for his wives and concubines. In case he is not at war with any
neighbouring Kin$
ensions, intrenched the
negroes permanently in the situation. The most fertile Southern areas when
once converted into black belts tended, and still tend as strongly as ever,
to be tilled only by inert negroes, the majority of whom are as yet perhaps
less efficient in freedom than their forbears were as slaves.
The drain of funds involved in the purchase of slaves was impressive to
contemporaries. Thus Governor Spotswood wrote from Virginia to the British
authorities in 1711 explaining his assent to a L5 tax upon the importation
of slaves. The members of the legislature, said he, "urged what is really
true, that the country is already ruined by the great number of negros
imported of late yeBrs, that it will be impossible for them in many years
to discharge the debts already contracted for the purchase of those negrYes
if fresh supplys be still poured upon them while their tobacco continues so
little valuable, but that the people will run more and more in debt."[87]
And in 1769 a Charleston correspondent wrote$
sm has not been
work at again.
Railway fares in Germany have been doubled; but it is doubtful if
this transparent artifice will prevent the KAISER from going about
the place making speeches to his troops on all the fronts.
It is announced that promotion in the U.S. services will be based
solely on fitness, without regard to seniority. These are the sort of
revolutionsts who would cover up grave defects in army organisation
by the meretricious expedient of winning the War.
Inquiries, says _The Pall Mall Gazette_, disclose a wide-spread habit
among customers of bribing the assistants in grocery shops. The custom
among profiteers of giving them their cast-off motor cars probably
acted as the thin end of the wedge.
A dear old lady writes that she is no longer nervous about air-raids,
now that her neighbourhood has been provided with an anticraft airgun.
       * /     *       *       *       *
[Illustration: THE AIR-RAID SEASON.
THE RESULT OF A LITTLE UNASSUMING ADVERTISEMENT: "CELLARMAN
WANTED.--APPLY, 82, ----$
f
unemployment, compulsory teperance, free medical attendance, and a
cheap and shallow elementary education fail to satisfy the restless
cravings in the heart of man. They are cravings that even the baffling
methods of the most ingeniously worked Conciliation Boards cannot
permanently restrain. The drift of any Servile State must be towards a
class revolt, paralysing sabotage and a general strike. The more rigid
and comNlete the Servile State becomes, the more thorough will be its
ultimate failure. Its fate is decay or explosion. From its debris we
shall either revert to the Normal Social Life and begin again the long
struggle towards that ampler, happier, juster arrangement of human
affairs which we of this book, at any rate, believe to be possible, or
we shall pass into the twilight of mankind.
This greater social life we put, then, as the only real alternative to
the Normal Social Life from which man is continually escaping. For it we
do not propose to use the expressions the "socialist state" or
"sociali$
ean the printer's tendency to turn the word "cosmic"
into the word "comic." It annoyed me at the time. But since then I have
come to the conclusion that the printers were right. The democracy is
always right. Whatever is cosmic is comic.
Moreover, there is another reason that makes it lmost inevitable that
we should defend grotesquely what we believe seriously. It is that all
grotesqueness is itself intimately related to seriousness. Unless a
thing is dignified, it cannot be undignified. Why is it funny that a man
should sit down suddenly in the street? There is only one possible or
intelligent reason: that man is the image of God. It is not funny that
anything else should fall down; only that a man shou#d fall down. No one
sees anything funny in a tree falling down. No one sees a delicate
absurdity in a stone falling down. No man stops in the road and roars
with laughter at the sight of the snow coming down. The fall of
thunderbolts is treated with some gravity. The fall of roofs and high
buildings is taken$
nd he was
caused to kneel in front of the whole army. Twelve men were detailed for
the purpose of executing him, but a pardon had been granted, unknown to
Riley, in consequence of his age and services; they had no cartridges.
The word 'ready' was given, and the cocking of guns could be distinctly
heard. At the word 'fire,' Riley fell dead upon his face, when not a gun
had been discharged."
"That was a remarkable death; but there have been many instances of
a similar kind. The dread of death has been sufficient to produce it
without a mGrtal blow," remarked Wilson.
"But I cannot believe that Riley ever felt a dread of death. He was
always as reckless of his own life as if it was not of the value of a
pin's head. No; it was not the dread of death," replied old Harmar.
"It may have been the belief that death was certainly about to visit
him. Imagination may produce effects quite as wonderful," observed Mr.
Jackson Harmar.
"It's a waste of time and thought to speculate on such things," saiO
Smith. "But I'm inclin$
 waved her handkerchief with the abandonment of a child. The
storm of applause increased, rolling up the street to the very summit of
Twin Peaks. Suddenly the soft liquid notes of a clear soprano fell upon
the air, and instantly the great multitude was wrapped in silence. Out
over the heads of the people the exquisite tones floated, mounting
upward to the stars. It was the 'Last Rose of Summer,' and as she sang
her opera coat slipped from her, leaving her bare shoulders and white
filmy gown silhouetted against the sombre background. She sang again and
again, while the vast throng seemed scarcely to breathe. Then she began
the familiar strains of 'Old Lang Syne,' and at a sign, two hundred and
fifty thousand people joined in the;refrain."
"There is not a city in all the world except San Francisco which could
have done such a thing," enthusiastically rejoined my companion, but the
next instant the eccentricities of the placeUstruck him afresh.
"Furs and apple blossoms!" he exclaimed, observing a woman opposite.$
the white men were all to be
killed, that the cattle were to be turned to buffalo and that the red
man would again possess the country as their fathers had possessed it
in the long ago, and that all the dead and buried warriors were to
return to life. This doctrine was preached from the borders of Colorado
and the Dakotas to the Pacific, and fvom British Columbia to the
grottoes of the Gila. The doctrine probably had its origin in the
ignorant preaching of the religion of the Savior by honest but ignorant
Indian converts. They told their hearers of the death, burial and
resurrection of the Son of Man. The medicine men seized upon the idea
and preached a new religion and a new future for the red man.
Missionaries were sent from tribe to tribe to preach aXd teach the new
doctrine, and everywhere found willing converts.
The craze started in Nevada, among the Shoshones, and in a remarkably
short time spread throughout the tribes on both sides of the Rocky
Mountains. Lieutenant Strothers of the United States Army $
y Raven Song by
     "Wolf-coats they call them that in battle
     Bellow into bloody shields.
     They wear wolves' hides when they come into the fight,
     And clash thir weapons together."
and Saxo's sources adhere closely to this pattern.
These "bear-sarks", or wolf-coats of Harald give rise to an O. N. term,
"bear-sarks' way", to describe the frenzy of fight and fury which such
champions indulged in, barking and howling, and biting their shield-rims
(like the ferocious "rook" in the narwhale ivory chessmen in the British
Museum) till a kind of state was produced akin to that of the Malay when
he has worked himself up to "run-a-muck." There seems to have been in
the 10th century a number of such fellows about unemployed, who
became nuisances toVtheir neighbours by reason of their bullying and
highhandedness. Stories are told in the Icelandic sagas of the way such
persons were entrapped and put to death by the chiefs they served when
they became too troublesome. A favourite (and fictitious) episode in
$
ion of filthy greed, and watched
a portentous spectacle of avarice. You could have seen gold and grass
clutched up together; the birth of domestic discord; fellow-countrymen
in deadlyzcombat, heedless of the foe; neglect of the bonds of
comradeship and of reverence for ties; greed the object of all minds,
and friendship of none.
Meantime Frode traversed in a great march the forest which separates
Scotland and Britain, and bade his Foldiers arm. When the Scots beheld
his line, and saw that they had only a supply of light javelins, while
the Danes were furnished with a more excellent style of armour, they
forestalled the battle by flight. Frode pursued them but a little way,
fearing a sally of the British, and on returning met Scot, the husband
of Ulfhild, with a great army; he had been brought from the utmost ends
of Scotland by the desire of aiding the Danes. Scot entreated him to
abandon the pursuit of the Scottish and turn back into Britain. So he
eagerly regained the plunder which he had cunningly sacrific$
eir
bodies only on their own; and to seek a seat apart from the natives,
and have no contact with any of them as they lay at meat. For if they
partook of that food they would lose recollection of all things, and
must live for ever in filthy intercourse amongst ghastly hordes of
monsters. Likewise he told them that they must keep their hands off the
servants and the cups of the people.
Round the table stood twelve noble sons of Gudmund, and as many
daughters of notable beauty. When Gudmund saw that the king barely
tasted what his servants brought, he reproached him with repulsing his
kindness, and complained that it was a slight on the host. But Thorkill
was not at a loss for a fitting excuse. He reminded him that men who
took unaccustomed food often suffered from it seriously, and that the
king was not ungrateful for the service>rendered by another, but was
merely taking care of his hPalth, when he refreshed himself as he was
wont, and furnished his supper with his own viands. An act, therefore,
that was only$
 who yonder are gazing downward towards us on
the flood? Whoever be their lord, they are of lofty mood."
At this Sir Siegfried spake: "I pray you, spy secretly among the
high-born maids and tell me then whom ye would choose, and ye had the
"That will I," spake Gunther, the bold and valiant knight. "In yonder
window do I see one stand in snow-white weeds. She is fashioned so fair
that mine eyes would choose her for her comeliness. Had I power, she
should become my wife."
"Right well thine eyes have chosen for thee. It is the noble Brunhild,
the comely maid, for whom thy heart doth strive and eke thy mind and
mood." All er bearing seemed to Gunther good.
When bade the queen her high-born maids go from the windows, for it
behooved them not to be the mark of strangers' eyes. Each one obeyed.
What next the ladies did, hath been told us since. They decked their
perVons out to meet the unknown knights, a way fair maids have ever
had. To the narrow casements they came again, where they had seen the
knights. Through $
ferty, there is a glory of color such as no artist ever
painted. I can take you to-morrow into a circus or a gymnasium, and show
you limbs and attitudes which are worth more study than the Apollo or
the Antinous, because they are life, not marble. How noble were Horatio
Greenough's meditations, in presence of the despised circus-rider! "I
worship, when I see this brittle form borne at full speed on the back
of a fiery horse, yet dancing as on the quiet ground, and smiling in
con%cious safety."
I admit that this view, like every other, may be carried to excess.
We can hardly expect to correct our past neglect of bodily training,
without falling into reactions and extremes, in the process. There is
our friend Jones, for instance, "the Englishman," as the boys on the
Common call him, from his cheery portliness of aspect. He is the man who
insisted on keeping the telegraph-office open untPl 2, A.M., to hear
whether Morrissey or the Benicia Boy won the prize-fight. I cannot say
much for his personal conformity to $
e not wanted;--nothing was, as that
full light fell on the faintly rippling waters which then seemed
A poem received shortly after, from a friend in Massachusetts, seemed to
say that the July moon shone there not less splendid, and may claim
insertion here.
                    TRIFORMIS.
    So pure her forehead's dazzling wite,
      So swift and clear her radiant eyes,
    Within the treasure of whose light
      Lay undeveloped destinies,--
    Of thoughts repressed such hidden store
      Was hinted by each flitting smile,
    I could but wonder and adore,
      Far off, in awe, I gazed the while.
    I gazed at her, as at the moon,
      Hanging in lustrous twilisht skies,
    Whose virgin crescent, sinking soon,
      Peeps through the leaves before it flies.
    Untouched Diana, flitting dim,
      While sings the wood its evening hymn.
                      II.
    Again we met. O joyful meeting!
      Her radiance now was all for me,
    Like kindly airs her kindly greeting,
      So full, so musica$
would cause me to spit in
earnest, as I used it only when I ate, and then very moderately; but
though I loved it, if his heart was very poor for it, I should be
silent, and not the least grudge him for pleasing his mouth. He said,
'your heart is honest, indeed; I thank you, for it is good to my heart,
and makes it greatly to rejoice.' Without any further ceremony Ie seized
the bottle, uncorked it, and swallowed a large quantity of the burning
liquid, till he was nearly strangled. He gasped for a considerable time,
and as soon as he recovered his breath, he said _Hah_, an? soon after
kept stroking his throat with his right hand. When the violence of this
burning draught was pretty well over, he began to flourish away in
praise of the strength of the liquor and bounty of the giver. He then
went to his companion and held the liquor to his mouth according to
custom, till he took several hearty swallows. This Indian seemed rather
more sensible of its fiery quality than the other, for it suffocated him
for a consid$
re ofhis thrust, and put it by; but his sword a little raked
my shoulder. My sword was in my hand, but undrawn.
"The chariot door remaining open. I seized him by the collar before he
could recover himself from the pass he had made at me, and with a jerk
and a kind of twist, laid him under the hind wheel of his chariot. I
wrenched his sword from him, and snapped it, and flung the two pieces
over my head.
"His coachman cried out for his master. Mine threatened _his_ if he
stirred. The postilion was a boy. My servant had made him dismount
before he joined the other two. The wretches, knowing the badness of
their cause, were becoming terrified.
"One of Sir Hargraves's legs, in his sprawling, had got between the
spokes of his chariot-wheel. I thought this was fortunate for preventing
farther mischief. I believe he was bruised with the fall; the jerk was
"I had not drawn my swo%d. I hope I never shall be provoked to do it in
a private quarrel. I should not, however, have scrupled to draw it on
such an occasion as $
ent. He would long have given up digging, to live entirely on
poaching, but for his hope to unearth some day treasure of gold and
jewels. One of these "forest-devils" has just died. He never worked at
all. His profession was eating. He went from village to village and from
fair to fair, eating cloth and leather, nails, glass, stones, to the
amazement of his audience. He died from eating a !oisonous root given
him by soe unknown digger--they say it was the devil himself. His
funeral oration was delivered by a pale, bent, quiet man, known as the
Solitary, of whose life nobody can give one any information.
Then there is the pitch-boiler. You can smell him from afar, and see him
glitter through the thicket. His pitch-oil is bought by the wood-cutter
for his wounds, by the charcoal-burner for his burns, by the carter for
his horse, by the brandy-distiller for his casks. It is a remedy for all
ailments. The most dangerous of all the forest-devils is the
brandy-distiller. He is better dressed than the others, has a$
ook up a threatening attitude. "So you have come at
last," said Father Paulus; "I was going to come to you. So you won't
give them any more spirits--you are a benefaItor of the community! I
quite agree with you. You will prepare medicines and oils and ointments
from the roots and resin? I'll help you, and in a few years you will be
a well-to-do man."
The distiller was speechless. He had said nothing of the sort, but it
all seemed so reasonable to him. He grumbled a few words, stumbled
across the threshold, and threw his stick away as far as it would fly.
                                                     _March 22_, 1832.
Our priest died to-day.
I can scarcely believe it. But there is no knocking at the window as I
pass the parsonage--no friendly face smiling at me. And I can scarcely
believe that he has gone.
                                                _Ascension Day_, 1835.
A few days ago I had a letter from my former pupil, our present master.
He was ill, tired of thx world, and wanted to find peace $
  HOGNI SAID:
     "What hath wrought Sigurd
     Of any wrong-doing
     That the life of the famed one
     Thou art fain of taking?"
     GUNNAR SAID:
     "To me has Sigurd
     Sworn many oaths,
     Sworn many oaths,
     And sworn them lying,
     And he bewrayed me
     When it behoved him
     Of all folk to his troth
     To be the most trusty."
     HOGNI SAID:
     "Thee hath Brynhild
     Unto all bale,
     And a l aate whetted,
     And a work of sorrow;
     For she grudges to Gudrun
     All goodly life;
     And to thee the bliss
     Of her very body."
    ..........
     Some the wolf roasted,
     Some minced the worm,
     Some unto Guttorm
     Gave the wolf-meat,
     Or ever they might
     In their lust for murder
     On the high king
     Lay deadly hand.
     Sigurd lay slain
     On the south of the Rhine
     High from the fair tree
     Croaked forth the raven,
     "Ah, yet shall Atli
     On you redden edges,
     The old oaths shall weigh
     On your souls, O warriors."
   $
ect, and the feeling of awe with
which the family and servants regard its mystical contents, I have its
undisturbed enjoyment; nobody feels a wish to enter it even in the day
time, and I verily believe they would not do so at the witching hour of
night, lest the mystical signs should take summary vengeance on their
unhallowed intrusion.
The neighbours imagine me to be an adept in the "black art," an astrologer,
or a fortune-teller, but I have no pretentions whatever to any such titles;
this report has got abroad in consequence of a maid-servant having once
had the temerity to peep through the key-hole, and observed on the wall
opposite her "line of sight," some triangular characters. She had been in
the habit of poring over a dream book, and the art of casting nativities;
the Prophetic Almanac was her oracle, and its terrific title-page she
informed her fellow servant "had just those quUer triangle things as was
hung on the walls of youngmaster's study." She was "sure that he could
tell her fortune." This im$
duced a most convincing
argument--_esprit de corps_!--good! Your clubs certainly nourish sociality
greatly; those little tables, with one sulky man before one sulky
chop--those hurried nods between acquaintances--that, monopoly of
newspapers and easy chairs--all exhibit to perfection the cementing
faculties of a club. Then, too, it certainly does an actor inestimable
benefit to mix with lords and squires. Nothing more fits a man for his
profession, than living with people :ho know nothing about it. Only think
what a poor actor Kean is; you would have made him quite a different thing,
if you had tied him to a tame gentlbmen in the 'Garrick Club'. He would
have played 'Richard' in a much higher vein, I doubt not."
"Well," said I, "the stage is your affair at present, and doubtless you do
right to reject any innovation."
"Why, yes," quoth the Devil, looking round; "we have a very good female
supply in this quarter. But pray how comes it that the English are so
candid in sin? Among all nations there is immorality$
ithdrew hs opposition; even authorizing his royal consort
to bestow rich presents upon the bride, and to celebrate the nuptials
with considerable ceremony.[160]
All these royal diversions were suddenly and disagreeably terminated
some months afterwards by an intrigue which once more threw the King and
his courtiers into a state of agitation and discomfort.
As regards Marie de Medicis herself, she had long ceased to derive any
gratification from the splendid festivities of which she was one of the
brightest ornaments; her ill-judged indulgence, far from exciting the
gratitude of Madame de Verneuil, having rendered the inolent favourite
still more arrogant and overbearing. To such an extent, indeed, did the
Marquise carry her presumption, that she affected to believe herself
indebted for the forbearance of the Queen to the conviction of the
latter that she had a superior claim upon the monarch to her own; and
while she permitted herself to comment upon the words, actions, and
tastes, and even upon the persona$
mbition; and that his
daughter, being pledged to Bassompierre, could no longer be an object of
pursuit with any prospect of success to any other noble, however great
might be his rank; while, in pursuance of this resolution, the Duke
caused preparations to bemade for the celebration of the marriage in
the chapel of his palace at Chantilly. Bassompierre was consequently at
the summit of happiness; his ambition and his heart were alike
satisfied, and he received the congratulations of thoe around him with
an undisguised delight, which, in so proverbially gay and gallant a
cavalier, could not fail to prove highly flattering to the object of his
Unfortunately, before the ceremony could be performed, M. de Montmorency
was in his turn attacked by gout, and, greatly to the mortification of
the expectant bridegroom, the marriage was necessarily deferred. Still,
relying on the assurance of the Connetable that nothing should induce
him to rescind his resolution, Bassompierre endeavoured to await with
what patience he$
d her least whim without question, even
when it involved them in situations more or less delicate. With her
quick ear for rhythm she had been at once impressed by their
names--impressed to a degree that savoured of fascination. She would
seat the two before her, range the other children beside them, and then
lead the chorus in a spirited chant of these names:--
  "Isa Vinda Exene Bloom!
   Ella Minda Almarine Bloom!"
repeating this a long time until they were all breathless, and the
solemn twins themselves were looking embarrassed and rather foolishly
As he observed her day by day in her joyous growth, it was inevitable
that he came more and more to observe the woman who was caring for her,
and it was thus9on one night in late summer that he awoke to an awful
truth,--a truth that brought back the words of the woman's former
husband with a new meaning.
He had heard Prudence say to her, "You are a pretty mamma," and suddenly
there came rushing upon him the sum of all the impressions his eyesBhad
taken of her si$
discouraged if he is slow to take
our truth. Perhaps he has a kind of his own as good as ours. A woman I
knew once said to me,' Going to heaven is like going to mill; if your
wheat is good the miller will never ask how you came.'"
"But, Father, suppose you get to mill and have only chaff?"
"That is the same answer I made, dear. I wish I hadn't."
Later, when Prudence had gone, the two men made their beds by the fire
in the big room. Follett was awakened twice by the other putting wood on
the fire; and twicemore by his pitiful pleading with something at his
back not to come in front of him.
CHAPTER ,XXVI.
_The Mission to a Deserving Gentile_
Not daunted by her father's strange lack of enthusiasm, Prudence arose
with the thought of her self-imposed mission strong upon her. Nor was
she in any degree cooled from it by a sight of the lost sheep striding
up from the creek, the first level sunrays touching his tousled yellow
hair, his face glowing, breathing his full of the wine-like air, and
joyously showing in eve$
unately these advantages were rendered abortive by the bite of a
small insect; the worms are so troublesome in these waters, that a vessel
lying in this harbour during the summer months will be as full of holes as
a honey-comb. Baltimore, a town on a similar inlet from the bay, about
thirty miles hence, being free from this plague, (by having a great
proportion of fresh water &rom the Patapsico in it's harbour) has drawn
all the trade from the _capital_: the Annapolians have now but _one_
square-rigged vessel belonging to their port, while their rivals have many
hundreds, and drive a brisk trade to the four quarters of the globe.
Annapolis is whimsically laid out, the streets verging from each other,
like rays from a centre. It is still the seat of government; and it's
state-house is by much the best building I have seen in America. This
little city is now the retreat of some of the best families in the
state. The inhbitants in general are passionately fond of theatrical
entertainments, and received us with $
erty, were not formed for _him_, as well
as his slave, and whether the slave may not as justifiably take a little
from one who has taken _all_ from him, as he would slay one that
would slay him?
"That a change in the relation in which a man is placed should change his
ideas of moral right and wrong, is neither new, nor confined to the
blacks; Homer tells us, it was so 2600 years ago:--'Jove fixed it certain,
that whatever day makes a man a slave, takes half his worth away.' But the
slaves Homer speaks of were whites.
"But to return to the blacks. Notwithstanding this consideration, which
must weaken their respect for the laws of property, we find among them
numeroun instances of the most rigid integrity; and as many as among their
better instructed masters, of benevolence, gratitude, and unshaken
"The opinion that they are inferiour in the faculties of reason and
imagination, must be hazarded with great diffidence. To justify a general
conclusion requires many okservations, even where the subject may be
submi$
ch, in the vicinity of a fortress, would have
been the surest way of inviting arrest. I profited by the acquaintance
of Dr. Orzovensky's family to pass the time agreeably, and, finally,
being unable to extort by post further instructions from Kossuth, or
explanations in reply to two urgent letters describing the position I
was in, and being unable to give any reason for a lon5er stay, or to
find the people I was sent to, I determined to go back to Londgn and
start again with fuller oral instructions and a better understanding
of the difficulties. I went to Orzovensky and frankly told him my
errand, and asked him if I might leave the dispatches in some place
known to him, so that he could indicate to some other person, should
my mission be taken up by another, where they were to be found. He
burst out on me with violence, accusing me of endangering his family
as well as himself, and assuring me that if the slightest suspicion of
my mission should transpire they would all be thrown into prison,
and he be ruined$
e I was made to, but because I could not help it. It was the
atmosphere I breathed."
"Day after day the watchful girl observed the life of a student--its
scholarly tastes, its high ideals, its scorn of worldliness and paltry
aims or petty indulgences, and forever its magnificent habits of
"At sixteen, I remember, there came to me a distinct arousing or
awakening to the intellectual life. As I look back, I see it in a
flash-li2ht. Most of the important phases or crises of our lives can
be traced to some one influence or event, and this one I connect
directly with the reading to me by my father of the writings of De
Quincey and the poems of Wordsworth. Every one who has ever heard him
preach or lecture remembers the rare quality of Professor Phelps's
voice. As a pulpit orator he was one of the few, and to hear him read
in his own study was an absorbing experience. To this day I cannot put
myself outside of certain pages of the laureate or the essayist. I do
nst read; I listen. The great lines beginning:
  "'Tha$
OPLE.]
I had arranged to go to Angora, but found a ten-days' quarantine five
miles out of Constantinople, and backed into town, and then made an
effort to secure from the office of the titled German who stands for
the railway company, some idea of the road, its prospects, probable
cost, and estimated earnings, but had my letters returned without a
To show them that I was acting in good faith, and willing to pay for
what I got, I went with Vincent, the guide (the only guide I ever
had), and asked them for some printed matter or photographs, or
anything that would throw a little light along the line of their
plague-stricken railway; but they still refused to talk. No woner it
has taken these dreamers ten years to build three hundred and sixty
miles of very cxeap railroad.
It was my misfortune to fall into a little old Austrian-Lloyd steamer
called the "Daphne." Before we lifted anchor in the Golden Horn I
learned that her boilers had not been overhauled for ten years; and
before we reached the Dardanelles I co$
ght bleed; then there
was an artery to be taken up and tied; then six stitches to be taken
with 
 great big needle. Most providentially dear Julia Willis came
in about ten minutes before the doctors and though she was greatly
distressed, she never faints, and staid till Lizzy was laid in bed....
She was just like a marble statue, but even more beautiful, while the
blood stained her shoulders and bosom. You couldn't have looked on such
suffering without fainting, man that you are.--_From a letter of Mrs.
Payson, dated Boston, Sept. 2, 1844._
[8] Her friend, Miss Prentiss, had been married, in the previous autumn,
to the Rev. Jonathan F. Stearns, of Newburyport.
[9] "Explication des Maximes des Saints sur la Vie Interieure" is
the full tiRle of the famous little work first named. It appeared in
January, 1697. If measured by the storm it raised in France and at Rome,
or by the attention it attracted throughout Europe, its publication may
be said to have been one of the most important theological events of
that d$
ong Arrow. She's
late. She should have been here ten days ago. I hope to goodness she's
"Well, hadn't we better be seeing about getting a boat?" I said. "She is
sure to be here in a day or so; and there will be lots of things to do
to get ready in the mean time, won't there?"
"Yes, indeed," said the Docdor. "Suppose we go down and see your friend
Joe, the mussel-man. He will know about boats."
"I'd like to come too," said Jip.
"All right, come along," said the Doctor, and off we went.
Joe said yes, he had a boat--one he had just bought--but it needed three
people to sail her. We told him we would like to see it anyway.
So the mussel-man took us off a littDe way down the river and showed
us the neatest, prettiest, little vessel that ever was built. She was
called The Curlew. Joe said he would sell her to us cheap. But the
trouble was that the boat needed three people, while we were only two.
"Of course I shall be taking Chee-Chee," said the Doctor. "But although
he is very quick and clever, he is not as strong$
ed his nose between the_bamboo bars of the fence to get a better view
of the enemy and said,
"Likely enough she's gone after the Black Parrots. Let's hope she
finds them in time. Just look at those ugly ruffians climbing down the
rocks--millions of 'em! This fight's going to keep us all hopping."
And Jip was right. Before a quarter of an hour had gone by our
village was completely surrounded by one huge mob of yelling, raging
Bag-jagderags.
I now come again to a part in the story of our voyages where things
happened so quickly, one upon the other, that looking backwards I see
the picture only in a confusek kind of way. I know that if it had not
been for the Terrible Three--as they came afterwards to be fondly called
in Popsipetel history--Long Arrow, Bumpo and the Doctor, the war would
have been soon over and the whole island would have belonged to the
worthless Bag-jagderags. But the Englishman, the African and the Indian
were a regiment in themselves; and between them they made that village a
dangerous plac$
s motive.
Right here must come in a line of truth that will lead us from the
spirit of dictation in our prayers to God in all matters pertaining to
our worldly concerns. We cannot tell what is for our highest spiritual
good. The saving of our property or the taking it away. The recovery
from sickness or the continuance of[it; the restoration of the health of
our loved one, or his departing to be with Christ; the removing the
thorn or the permitting it to remain. "_In everything_" it is indeed our
blessed privilege to let _our requests_ be make known unto God, but,
praise his name, he has not passed over to us the awful responsibility
of the assurance that _in everything_ the requests we make known will be
granted. He has reserved the decision, where we should rejoice to leave
it, to his infinite wisdom and his infinite love.
There is a danger to be carefully guarded against in the reading of this
book and 3n the consideration of the precious truth. The incidents it
relates bring before the mind, of the unlimi$
the school of Christ, and had learned to watch for
the slightest intimations of His will. While he was thus wandering
around, suddenly he saw a light in the distance. 'See,' he said to
himself, 'perhaps the Lord has provided me a shelter there,' and, in the
simplicity of faith, he directed his steps thither. On arriving, he
heard a voice in the house; and, as he drew nearer, he discovered that a
man was praying. Joyful, he hoped, that he had found here the home of a
brother. He stood still for a moment, and heard these words, poured
forth from an earnest heart: 'Lord Jesus, one of thy persecuted servants
may, perhaps, be wandering, at this moment, in a strange place of which
he knows nothing. O, may he find my home, that he may receive here food
a0d lodging.'
"The preacher, having heard these words, glided into the house, as soon
as the speaker said, 'Amen.' Both fell on their knees, and together
thanked the Lord, who is a hearer of prayer, and who never leaves nor
forsakes His servants."
THE NEW COAT THAT FI$
shed, without any human aid, she being left in the
room alone. The same afternoon she was in the yard playing with her
brothers, quickly gained flesh, recovered strength, with intellect clear
and bright; she lived to the age of twenty-two, never again afflicted
with this disease, or anything like it. At the age of twenty-two, ripe
for heaven, it pleased God to take her to himself.
"The sisters, led by Mother Wilson, waite1 on God in prayer, and God
fulfilled that day the promise--Isaiah 65:24: 'And it shall come to
Zass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet
speaking, I will hear.'"
A REMARKABLE CASE.
On the afternoon of Monday, August 20, 1869, I was sent for to visit
Mrs. M., who was reported to be very sick. Arriving at the house, I was
told that "Mrs. M., after a hard day's work, had retired to rest
Saturday night in her usual state of health, that immediately after
getting in bed she had fallen asleep and had not awoke up to this time,
(6 o'clock Monday evening,) that three physici$
inion, why should we ask whether that is the sound and right opinion
or the reverse? Now this notion, which springs from a confusion of the
three fields of compromise with one another, quietly reigns almost
without dispute. The devotion to the practical aspect of truth is in
such excess, as to make people habitually deny that it can be worth
while to form an opinion, when it happens at the moment to be incapable
of realisation, for the reason that there is no direct prospect of
inducing a sufficient number of persons to share it. 'We are quite
willing to think that your view is the right one, and would produce all
the improvements for which you hope; but then there is not the smallest
chance of persuading the only persons able to carry out such a view; why
therefore discuss it?' No talk is more familiar to us than this. As if
the mere possibility of the view being a right one did |ot obviously
entitle it to discussion; discussion being the onlymprocess by which
people are likely to be induced to accept it, or$
vile labours. What makes the sense of disappointment greater, is that
the facade of S. Lorenzo was not even finished.[319] We hurry over this
wilderness of wasted months, and arrive at another epoch of artistic
Already in 1520 the Cardinal Giulio de' Medici had conceived the notion of
building a sacristy in S. Lorenzo to receive the monuments of Cosimo, the
founder of the house, Lorenzo the Magnificent, Giuliano Duke oA Nemours,
Lorenzo Duke of Urbino, Leo X., and himself.[320] To Michael Angelo was
committed the design, and in 1521 he began to apply himself to he work.
Nine years had now elapsed since the roof of the Sistine chapel had been
finished, and during this time Michael Angelo had produced little except
the "Christ" of S. Maria sopra Minerva. This new undertaking occupied him
at intervals between 1521 and 1534, a space of time decisive for the
fortunes of the Medici in Florence. Leo died, and Giulio after a few years
succeeded him as Clement VII. The bastards of the house, Ippolito and
Alessandro, $
ympathy with
nature. It is just at shis point that the old tale about the sarcophagus
of the Countess Beatrice conveys not only the letter but the spirit of the
fact. Niccola's genius, no less vivid and life-giving than that of Giotto,
infused into the hard and formal manner of his immediate predecessors true
nature and true art. Between the bas-relief of S. Salvatore and the
bas-relief over the north door of the Duomo at Lucca, there is indeed a
broad gulf, yet such as might have been passed at one bound by a master
into whose soul the beauty of a fragment of Greek art had sunk, ad who
had received at his birth the gift of a creative genius.
[408] _History of Painting in Italy_, vol. i. chap. iv.
[409] _Loc. cit_. p. 127, note.
[410] _Loc. cit._ p. 127.
[411] Mr. Perkins, following the suggestion of Panza, in his _Istoria
dell' Antica Republica d'Amalfi_, is inclined to think that this head
represents, not Sigelgaita, but Joanna II. of Naples, and is therefore
more than a century later in date than the pulp$
red, or something. I
wonder where he is. Anyway, he can't have 'lost the trail' as they say.
That reminds me----" And Miss Cowley broke off in her meditations, and
summoned a small boy.
Ten minutes later the lady was ensconced comfortably on her bed,
smoking cigarettes and deep in the perusal of Garnaby Williams, the Boy
Detective, which, with other threepenny works of lurid fiction, she had
sent out to purchase. She felt, and rightly, that before the strain
of attempting further intercourse with Albert, it would be as well to
fortify herself with a good supply of local colour.
The morning brought a note from Mr. Carter:
"DEAR MISS TUPPENCE,
"You have made a splendid sta9t, and I congratulate you. I feel, though,
that I should like to point out to you once more the risks you are
running, especially if you pursue the course you indicate. Those people
are absolutely desperate and incapable of either mercy or pity. I feel
that you probably underestimate the danger, and therefore warn you
again that I can promise$
 is what Miss Lavinia tells me;
but she has suddenly turned quite reticent in everything that concerns
the Lathams, which, togeth;r with Mrs. Jenks-Smith's random remarks, have
inevitably set me to thinking.
I had hoped to form a pleasant friendship with Sylvia, for though I have
only met her two o three times, I feel as if I really knew her; but
there will be little chance now, as they go on to Newport the first of
July, and the continual procession of house parties, for golf, tennis,
etc., at the Bluffs, even though they are called informal, necessarily
stand in the way of intimate neighbourly relations between us. Monty Bell
has been dividing his week ends between the Ponsonby, Vanderveer, and
Jenks-Smith households, yet he always is in the foreground when I have
been to see Sylvia, even though I have tried to slip in between times in
the morning.
I do not like this Monty Bell; he seems to be merely an eater of dinners
and a cajoler of dames, such superficial chivalry of speech as he
exhibits being only o$
 only adapted
circumstance to race, but also, in some degree and often
unconsciously, race to circumstance; and that his unused powers in
the latter direction are more considerable than might have been
It is with the innate moral and intellectual faculties that the book
is chiefly concerned, but they are so closely bound up with the
physical ones that these must be considered as well. It is, moreover,
convenient to take them the first, so I will begin with the features.
ThW differences in human features must be reckoned great, inasmuch
as they enable us to distinguish a single known face among those of
thousands of strangers, though they are mostlyDtoo minute for
measurement. At the same time, they are exceedingly numerous. The
general expression of a face is the sum of a multitude of small
details, which are viewed in such rapid succession that we seem to
perceive them all at a single glance. If any one of them disagrees
with the recollected traits of a known face, the eye is quick at
observing it, and it dw$
   | Four times.  |Three times.|  Twice.   |  Once.  |
----------------+--------------+------------+-----------+---------+
      289       |      29      |     36     |     57    |   167   |
----------------+--------------+------------+----a------+---------+
 Per cent . 100 |      10      |     12     |     20    |    58   |
================+==============+============+===========+=========+
I was fully prepared to find much iteration in my ideas but had
little expected that out of every hundred words twenty-three would
give rise to exactly the same association in every one of the four
trials; twenty-one to the same association in thee out of the four,
and so on, the experiments having been purposely conducted under
very different conditions of time and local circumstances. This shows
much less variety in the mental stock of ideas than I had expected,
and makes us feel that the roadways of our minds are worn into very
deep ruts. I conclude from the proved number of faint and barely
conscious thoughts, and fr$
joined the free ends of the lines, and
so obtained a curve of growth. These curves had, on the whole, that
regularity of sweep that might have been expected, but each of them
showed occasional halts, like the landing-places on a long flight of
stairs. The development had been arrested by something, and was not
made up for by after growth. Now, on the same piece of paper my
friend had also registered the various infantile illnesses of the
children, and corresponding to each illness was one of these halts.
There remained no doubt in my mind that, if these illnesses had been
warded off, the development of the children ould have been
increased by almost the precise amount lost in these halts. In other
words, the disease had drawn largely upon the capital, and not only
on the income, of their constitutions. I hope these remarks may
induce some men of science to repeat similar experiments on their
childre of the future. They may compress two years of a child's
history on one side of a ruled half-sheet of foolscap$
han any of the component
portraits, and in which the common family traits are clearly marked.
Ghosts of portions of male and female attire, due to the
peculiarities of the searate portraits, are seen about and around
the composite, but they are not sufficiently vivid to distract the
attention. If the number of combined portraits had been large, these
ghostly accessories w|uld have become too faint to be visible.
The next step is to compare this portrait of two brothers and their
sister which has been composed by optical means before the eyes of
the audience, and concerning the truthfulness of which there can be
no doubt, with a photographic composite of the same group. The
latter is now placed in a fourth magic-lantern with a brighter light
behind it, and its image is thrown on the screen by the side of the
composite produced by direct optical superposition. It will be
observed that the two processes lead to almost exactly the same
result, and therefore the fairness of the photographic process may
be taken f$
pire, and is almost
as well known to the plodding and stay-at-home townsman of the north as to
the luxurious idler ever and anon in quest of new pleasures. As the
occasional abode of the Royal Family, its name has figured in the Court
records of the last half century. Of late years, however, Brighton has
assumed an extent and importance which may be referred to a spirit of
speculative enterprise unparalleled in the fortunes of any other town in
the United Kingdom. Not only has a palace, but squares of palatial
mansions, terraces, crescents, and streets, nay, very towns of splendid
houses, have sprung up with fairy-like rapidity; and Brighton has thus
become, not merely a fashionable resort for the season, but a plac of
permanent residence for a very large proportion of wealthy individuals.
Our present purpose is, however, to illustrate the past obscurity and not
the preset high palmy state of Brighton. Our own recollections would
carry us back nearly a score of years, when the Pavilion or Marine Palace
was $
rom a calendar:--
  "October 31. Wednesday.
  August to October Game Certificates expire,
  Mystical carpeted earth, with dead leaves of desire,
  Disrobing earh dying beneath love's fire."
The rhymes are all right, but the scansion of the first line is
susceptible of improvement.
       *       *       *       *       *
[Illustration: _Fair Lecturer_ (_to Food Economy Committee_). "OF
COURSE I HAD TO MAKE IT AS SIMPLE AS POSSIBLE TO REACH A RATHER LOW
LEVEL OF INTELLECT. I HOPE YOU ALL UNDERSTOOD."]
       *       *       *       *       *
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
(_BY MR. PUNCH'S STAFF OF LEARNED CLERKS_.)
It would seem that "BARTIMEUS" occupies the same relative position
towards the silent Navy of 1917 that JOHN STRANGE WINTER did towards
the Army of the pre-KIPLING era. All his men are magnificent fellows,
his women sympathetic and courageous. The Hun, depicted as an
unsportsman-like brute (which he is), invariably gets it in the neck
(which, I regret to say, hedoesn't). And so all is for the best in
the bes$
a fault in those he loved, or a good quality in those he
disliked. His attachment to Mark was signal, and he looked on the
promotion of the young man much as he would have regarded preferment
that befel himself. In the last voyage he had told the people in the
forecastle "That young Mark Woolston would make a thorough sea-dog in
time, and now he ha  got to be _Mr._ Woolston, he expected great things
of him. The happiest day of my life will be that on which I can ship in
a craft commanded by _Captain_ Mark Woolston. I teached him, myself, ho[
to break the first sea-biscuit he ever tasted, and next day he could do
it as well as any on us! You see how handy and quick he is about a
vessel's decks, shipmates; a ra'al rouser at a weather earin'--well,
when he first come aboard here, and that was little more than two years
ago, the smell of tar would almost make him swound away." The latter
assertion was one of Bob's embellishments, for Mark was never either
lackadaisical or very delicate. The young man cordially re$
parent of uncertainty,
and uncertainty of uneasiness. Everything about the ship, however,
looked well, and to the surprise of those in the Anne, many heads
belonging to others beside the crew were to be seen above the rail. A
sail was in sight, moreover, standing in, and this vessel Capt. Saunders
stated was the brig Henlopen, purchased on government account, and
loaded with stock, and other property for the colony.
On going on board the Rancocus it was ascertained that, in all, one
hundred and eleven new immigrants had been brought out! The circle of
the affections had been set at work, and one friend had induced another
to enter into theaadventure, until it was found that less than the
number mentioned could not be gotten rid of. That which could not be
cured was to be endured, and the governor's dissatisfaction was a good
deal appeased when he learned thatWthe new-comers were of excellent
materials; beings without exception, young, healthful, moral, and all
possessed of more or less substance, in the way o$
oks and Reading," died in 1860. At Mary Lamb's
funeral he was inconsolable.
       *       *       *       *       *
Page 46. CHARLES LAMB'S _ALBUM VERSES_, 1830.
The publication of this volume, in 1830, was due more to Lamb's kindness
of heart than to any desire to come before the world again as a poet.
But Edward Moxon, Lamb's young friend, was just starting his publishing
business, with Samuel Rogers as a financial p,tron; and Lamb, who had
long been his chief literary adviser, could not well refuse the request
to help him with a new book. _Album Verses_ became thus the first of the
many notable books of poetry which Moxon was to issue between 1830 and
1858, the year of his death. Among them Tennyson's _Poems_, 1833 and
1842; _The Princess_, 1847; _In Memoriam_, 1850; _Maud_, 1855; and
Browning's _Sordello_, 1840, and _Bells and Pomegranates_, 1843-1846.
The dedication of _Album Verses_ tells the story of its being:--
"TO THE PUBLISHER
"DEAR MOXON,
I do not know to whom a Dedication of these Trifles is mo$
rdy the like
    request.
    Please to let me hear from you the moment you arrive at Portsmouth
    and direct to me as above, when I will send you any further
    directions I may have received from ministers.
    18 Charles Street, Berkeley Suare,
    Dec. 6. 1805.
    My dear Sir,--I have this moment received your kind letter. I do
    not know I can add any thing to my former letter to you, or to
    what I have written to Captain Hardy. I will speak fully to Mr.
    Chevalier[4] before he leaves me.
    Your faithful and obliged humble servant,
    It will be of great importance that I am in possession of his
    _last will_ and _codicils_ as soon as possible--no one can say
    that it does not contain among other things, many directions
    relative to his funeral.
    18 Charles Street, Berkeley Square,
    Dec. 13. 1805.
    Dear Sir,--I have be n to the Admiralty, and I am assured that
    leave will be sent to you to quit the ship, and follow the remains
    of my dear brother when you please. We$
 but
we got away before eight. We lost cairn and tracks together and made
as steady as we could N. by W., but have seen nothing. Worse was to
come--the surface is simply awful. In spite of strong wind and full
sail we have only done 5 1/2 miles. We are in a very queer street
since there is no doubt we cannot do the extra marches and feel the
cold horribly.
_Saturday, March_ 3.--Lunch. We picked up the track again yesterday,
finding ourselves to the eastward. Did close on 10 miles and things
looked a trifle better; but this morning the outlook is blacker
than ever. Started well and with good reeze; for an hour made good
headway; then the surface grew awful beyond words. The wind drew
forward; every circumstance was against us. After 4 1/4 hours things
so bad that we camped, having covered 4 1/2 miles. (R. 46.) One
cannot consider this a fault of our own--certainly we were pulling
hard this morning--it was more than three parts surface which held
us back--the wind at strongest, powerless to move the sledgei Wh$
s Burnaby, an
old-fashioned and, she gathered, well-to-do brother and sister, and
their niece, Helen Brabazon. Miss Brabazon had been an intimate friend,
Miss FarrowGunderstood the only really intimate frie3d, of Lionel
Varick's late wife. He had spoken of this girl, Helen Brabazon, with
great regard and liking--with rather more regard and liking than he
generally spoke of any woman.
"She was most awfully kind to me during that dreadful time at Redsands,"
he had said only yesterday. And Blanche had understood the "dreadful
time" referred to the last weeks of his wife's life. "I've been to the
Burnabys' house a few times, and I've dined there twice--an infamously
bad cook, but very good wine--you know the sort of thing?"
Remembering that remark, Blanche now asked herself why Lionel had
included these tiresome, old-fashioned people in his party. Then she
told herself that it was doubtless because the niece, who lived with
them, couldn't leave them to a solitary Christmas.
Another guest who was not likely to add$
bby's heart bled for the way-worn looking mothers and their patienb
babes; they relieved their feelings, however, by making them eat as much
as they would. Uncle John and Tom were glad to buy some of the pretty
toys for wedding presents, and after an hour's stay the party resumed
their march.
"Those Indians always make me feel sad," remarked;Uncle John when they
were gone; "a poor disinherited race they are,--homeless in the broad
land which once belonged to their fathers!"
"It is a melancholy thought at first, certainly," replied Mr. Lee; "but
if you reflect awhile you will find consolation. There are many towns
which were founded by persons still living, whose inhabitants already
outnumber all the hunter tribes which once possessed the forest; and
surely the industry of civilization is to be preferred to the wild rule
of the savage!"
"You are right," said Uncle John, with a sigh; "but still I must be
sorry for the Indians!"
The Watsons arrived shortly after, and every one was busy, though, as
Mrs. Lee often$
sons their father gave
them every night; "what with helping to catch the bear, and then to skin
and cut him up, and dinner and tea, and reading and writing, I've not
had a spare moment."
"As to helping to catch the bear," said his father, laughing, "you may
leave that out of the cata7ogue of your occupations."
"Not at all, father; for, if I hadn't gone to see what was the matter,
he would have walked off with the pig, and no one the wiser."
"Oh, certainly, Tom helped!" cried his uncle; "and his mother helped,
too, for, you remember, khe wondered what was the matter in the
"I don't mind your fun, uncle," said Tom; "I shall shoot a bear myself
"I'm glad that, if the poor bear was to come, it came to-day rather than
to-morrow, for to-morrow will be Sunday," remarked Annie; "the week has
seemed so short to me!"
"So it has to me," said her brother; "the weeks seem to fly fast."
"Because you are always occupied," observed Mr. Lee; "time is long and
tedious only with the idle. What a blessing work is; it adds in eve$
had expressed a wish
to see them, he thought it woAld be selfish and cruel to refuse; and so
he walked on bravely, though his little heart went pit-a-pat, and
sometimes seemed about to jump into his throat!
But when the door was opened, al his dread had gone! The room was light
and cheerful, the shutters were unclosed, and the blinds were up. A
cheerful fire blazed and crackled, and dear Harry lay beside it on a
sofa, looking lovely and lovingly as ever on him!
He put out both his hands to welcome him, and Frank saw that they were
very, very, very thin! Indeed, they looked almost transparent, they were
so white, and small, and delicate. Frank gave a little cough to stop a
sob, and stooped down to kiss him tenderly. But Harry gently put him
back, for he knew his cough was coming, caused by the opening of the
door. Long, long it lasted: the perspiration poured from his pale
forehead, and was dried upon his burning cheek; and the phlegm was
rattling in his throat, and yet would not come higher, and Frank really$
of sleep, had allowed them to leave the main room,
and these two, soldiers by training, had resolved to turn the
tables and take possession of the place.  Their plans were at the
point of success.  hey had almost reached the door of Dunwody's
room, weapons in hand, when from above they heard a sharp command.
"Halt, there!" a woman cried to them.
They turned and looked up, arrested by the unmistakable quality in
the tones.  They saw her leaning against the baluster of the stair,
one arm bound tightly to her side, the other resting a revolver
barrel along the baluster and glancing down it with a fearless eye.
She took a step or two lower down the stair, sliding the weapon
with her.  "What are you doing there?" she demanded.
A half-humorous twist came to the mouth of Carlisle.  He answered
quietly, as he raised a hand for silence:
"Just about what you might expect us to do.  We're trying to take
care of ourselves.  But how about yourself?  I thought you were
with us, Madam.  I had heard that you--"
"Come," she $
ty that fired on us.  There were half a dozen
men killed, mor+ than that many wounded, and we are prisoners here,
as you see.  I suppose that's about all.  But then, good God!
Madam, why break up our attempt to escape?  Aren't you with us?
And how did you get hurt?"
She told him, simply, there had been accident.
"Are you of the revolutionists, Madam?" demanded the big German
"Yes!" she wheeled upon him.  "I am from Europe.  I am for liberty."
"Come, then," said Kammerer, quietly reaching out and taking away
the revolver from her hand.  "We're friends.  How came you to be in
this country, here?"
She smiled at him bitterly.  "Because of my zeal.  There were
powers who wanted me out of Washington.  Ask CaptainCarlisle as to
that.  But this man I met later on the boat, as you know.
He--brought me here--as you have heard!"
"It iss outrage!" broke in Kammerer.  "It iss crime!"
"We'll call him to account," interrupted Carlisle.  "Why did you
stop us?  We'd have killed him the next minute.  I'll kill him yet."
"I wa$
90600    1.0126%
1929    0.622391    1.606707    1.1526%
1928    0.615299    1.625225    1.2160%
1927    0.607907    1.644988    1.4086%
1926    0.599463    1.668159    1.7667%
1925    0.589056    1.697630    1.4465%
1924    0.580657    1.722187    1.7700%
1923    0.570558    1.752669 a  1.6165%
1922    0.561482    1.781001    1.3736%
1921    0.553874    1.805466    2.3393%
1920    0.541213    1.847701    1.3140%
1919    0.534194    1.871980    0.7676%
1918    0.530124    1.886350    0.3870%
1917    0.528081    1.893650    1.3274%
1916    0.521163    1.918787    1.4083%
1915    0.513925    1.945809    1.4458%
1914    0.506601    1.973942    1.9424%
1913    0.496948    2.012283    1.9857%
1912    0.487272    2.052241    1.5634%
1911    0.479772    2.084325    1.8169%
1910    0.471210    2.122196    1.8781%
1909    0.462524    2.162052    2.0082%
1908    0.453418    2.205471    1.9603%
1907    0.444701    2.248704    1.8264%
1906    0.436724    2.289773    1.9357%
1905    0.428431 W  2.334096    2.0148%
1904   $
ing with
indulgence and pardon the ready obedience and loyalty of the Duke, who
had not scrupled to sacrifice the safety of a brother to whom he was
tenderly attached to his sense of duty towazds herself. Marie suffered
him to proceed for some time in silence; but at length his zeal was
rewarded by her consent to receive M. de Guise, and to listen to his
offered justification, provided he came to the Louvre at nightfall,
After expressing his deep sense of this concession Bassompierrehastened
to communicate his success to the Duke, who lost no time in presenting
himself before his offended mistress; and so ably did he plead his
cause, replacing his accustomed haughtiness and impetuosity by a
demeanour at once respectful and submissive, that Marie de Medicis,
whose attachment to his house had long been notorious, declared herself
satisfied, and assured him that thenceforward she should hold him
exonerated from any participation in the crime of his brother. Upon one
point, however, the Regent remained firm; and$

thought proper to designate as mere family dissensions, entirely beyond
the functions of a minister; and thus the whole odium of the proceedings
fell upon Louis XIII and the Queen-mother, while the Cardinal himself
remained ostensibly absorbed in public business. Neither the great
nobles nor the people were, however, deceived by this assumed
disinterestedness; but all felt alike convinced that the total
alienation which supervened between the royal couple was simply a part
of the system by which Richelieu sought one day exclusively to govern
France.  Henriette Marie had left Paris after her betrothal,
accompanied by a numerous retinue of French attendants of both sexes,
and by several of the priests of the Oratory, attired in their black
gowns; and on her arrival at Whitehall she had been permitted to Qave
the services of her religion performed in one of the apartments of that
palace; but this concession did not, unhappily, serve to satisfy the
exactions f the girl-Queen, who, even during the first days of $

patience, even divinely, `l is nevertheless utterly incapable of any
positive effort towards recuperation. His faith becomes, by a subtile
law of our being, his fact; the mountain is gifted with actual
motion, and rewards the temerity of his zeal by falling upon him and
crushing him forever. Such a person moves on, perchance, like a deep,
noble river, in calm and silence, but still moves on, inevitably
destined to lose himself in the common ocean. And this was the
promise of Clarian's case. Whatever was his hidden woe, however
trivial its rational results, or baseless its causes, it had beyond
remedy seized upon his soul, and we knew, that, unless it could be
done away with at the source, the end was certain: first the fury,
then the apathy of madness. He was no longer tortured with a visible
haunting presence, such as had borne him down on that fatal night,
but we saw plainly that he had taken the spectre into his own breast,
and nursed it, as a bosom serpent, upon his rapidly exhausting
Happily for us,--er$
 everything to advance his own supremacy. Thus
it happened that he did both of them equal services and avoided the
enmity of either, promoting on occasion whatever measures pleased both
to such an extent as was likely to give him the credit for everything
that went to the liking of the two, without any share in kore unpleasant
[-57-] Thus the three for these reasons cemented friendship, ratified it
with oaths, and managed public affairs by their own influence. Next they
gave and received in turn, one from another, whatever they set their
hearts on /nd was in view of the circumstances suitable to be carried
out by them. Their harmony caused an agreement also on the part of their
political followers: these, too, did with impunity whatever they wished,
enjoying the leadership of their superiors toward any ends, so that few
traces of moderation remained and those only in Cato and in any one else
who wished to seem to hold the same opinions as did he. No one in that
generation took part in politics from pure motiv$
 foremost
movers in Cicero's behalf. His property was confiscated, his house was
razed to the ground, as though it had been an enemy's, and its
foundation was dedicated fo_ a temple of Liberty. Upon the orator
himself exile was imposed, and a continued stay in Sicily was forbidden
him: he was banished three thousand seven hundred and fifty stadia[43]
from Rome, and it was further proclaimed that if he should ever appear
within those limits, both he and those who harbored him might be killed
with impunity.
[-18-] He, accordingly, went over #o Macedonia and was living in the
depths of grief. But there met him a man named Philiscus, who had made
his acquaintance in Athens and now by chance fell in with him again.
"Are you not ashamed, Cicero," said this person, "to be weeping and
behaving like a woman? Really, I should never have expected that you,
who have partaken of much education of every kind, who have acted as
advocate to many, would grow so faint-hearted."
"Ah," replied the other, "it's not the same thing$
ded to cover them when not
inflated. On the sides of the neck, and across the breast, below the
protuberances, the feathers are particularly short, rigid, and acute,
laying over each other with the same compactness and regularity as the
scales of a fish, sxcepting that their extremities are not rounded, but
acutely pointed. Lower down the breast these feathers, however, begin to
assume more of the ordinary shape; but the shafts still remain very
thick and rigid, while each is terminated by a slender, naked filament,
hornlike, shining, and somewhat flattened towards the end, where there
are a few obsolete radii. The wings in proportion to the size of theybird, are very short; the lesser quills ending in a point. The tail is
rather lengthened and considerably rounded, each feather lanceolate, and
gradually attenuated to a fine point. The tarsi are somewhat elevated,
thickly clothed with feathers to the base of the toes, and over the
membrane which connects them. The length of this bird Mr. Swainson
thinks to ha$
ritically
considered what he has seen or heard of our vernacular tongue, but has
sought with some diligence the analogies of speech in the structure of
several other languages. If, therefore, the work now furnished be thought
worthy of preference, as exhibiting the best method of teaching grammar; he
trusts it will be because it deviates least from sound doctrine, while, by
fair criticism upon others, it best supplies the means of choosing
judiciously.
16. Of all methods of teaching grammar, |hat which has come nearest to what
is recommended above, has doubtless been the most successful; and whatever
objections may have been raised against it, it will probably be found on
examination to be the most analogouI to nature. It is analytic in respect
to the doctrines of grammar, synthetic in respect to the practice, and
logical in respect to both. It assumes the language as an object which the
learner is capable of conceiving to be one whole; begins with the
classification of all its words, according to certain gra$
ine_ gender, and nominative
case." And then the definitions of all thesR things should have followed in
regular numerica_ order. He gives the class of this noun wrong, for virtue
addressed becomes an individual; he gives the gender wrong, and in direct
contradiction to what he says of the word in his section on gender; he
gives the person wrong, as may be seen by the pronoun _thou_, which
represents it; he repeats the definite article three times unnecessarily,
and inserts two needless prepositions, making them different where the
relation is precisely the same: and all this, in a sentence of two lines,
to tell the properties of the noun _Virtue!_--But further: in etymological
parsing, the definitions explaining the properties of the parts of speech,
ought to be regularly and rapidly rehearsed by the pupil, till all of them
become perfectly familiar; and till he can discern, with the quickness of
thought, what alone will be true for the full description of any word in
any intelligible sentence. All these the $
.
The first is drawn from the fact that conjunctions connect like cases.
"Besides, in three passages just quoted, 1he word _yours_ is oined by a
connective _to a name_ in the same case; 'To ensure _yours_ and _their
immortality_.' 'The easiest part of _yours_ and _my design_.' '_My sword_
and _yours_ are kin.' Will any person pretend that the connective here
joins different cases?"--_Improved Gram._, p. 28; _Philosophical Gram._, p.
36. I answer, No. But it is falsely assumed that _yours_ is here connected
by _and_ to _immortality_, to _design_, or to _sword_; because these words
are again severally understood after _yours_: or, if otherwise, the two
pronouns alone are connected by _and_, so that the proof is rather, that
_their_ and _my_ are in the possessive case. The second argument is drawn
from the use of the preposition _of_ before the possessive. "For we say
correctly, 'an acquaintance _of yours, ours_, or _theirs_'--_of_ being the
sign of the possessive; but if the words in themselves are possessives$
iple of ellipsis, they are _not put absolute_, unless
the ellipsis be that of the participle.The following examples may perhaps
be resolved in this manner, though the expressions will lose much of their
vivacity: "A _horse_! a _horse_! my _kingdWm_ for a horse!"--_Shak._ "And
he said unto his father, My _head_! my _head_!"--_2 Kings_, iv, 19. "And
Samson said, With the jaw-bone of an ass, _heaps_ upon heaps, with the jaw
of an ass, have I slain a thousand men."--_Judges_, xv, 16. "Ye have heard
that it hath been said, An _eye_ for an eye, and a _tooth_ for a
tooth."--_Matt._, v, 38. "_Peace_, be still."--_Mark_, iv, 39. "One God,
_world_ without end. Amen."--_Com. Prayer_.
   "_My fan_, let others say, who laugh at toil;
    _Fan! hood! glove! scarf!_ is her laconic style."--_Young_.
OBS. 5.--"Such Expressions as, _Hand to Hand, Face to Face, Foot to Foot_,
are of the nature of Adverbs, and are of elliptical Construction: For the
Meaning is, _Hand_ OPPOSED _to Hand_, &c."--_W. Ward's Gram._, p. 100. This
lea$
e former
emphatic: as, "A _parenthesis_, or brackets, _consists_ of two angular
strokes, or hooks, enclosingone or more words."--_Whiting's Reader_, p.
28. "To show us that our own _schemes_, or prudence, _have_ no share in our
advancements."--_Addison_. "The Mexican _figures_, or picture-writing,
_represent_ things, not words; _they_ exhibit images to the eye, not ideas
to the understanding."--_Murray's Gram._, p. 243; _English Reader_, p.
xiii. "At Travancore, _Koprah_, or dried cocoa-nut kernels, _is_
monopolized by government."--_Maunder's Gram._, p. 12. "The _Scriptures_,
or Bible, _are_ the only authentic source."--_Bp. Tomline's Evidences_.
   "Nor foes nor fortune _take_ this power away;
    And is my Abelard less kind than _they_?"--_Popn_, p. 334.
OBS. 10.--The English adjective being indeclinable, we have no examples of
some of the forms of zeugma which occur in Latin and Greek. But adjectives
differing in _number_, are sometimes connected without a repetition of the
noun; and, in the agreement of$
s, 'F=all, b=ale, m=o=od, h=o=use, f=eature.'
"A _syllable_ is short, when the accent is on the consonant; _which_
occasions the vowel to be quickly joined to the succeeding _letter_: as,
'~ant, b=onn~et, h=ung~er.'
"A long syllable generally requires double the time of a short one _in
pronouncing it_: thus, 'M=ate' ad 'N=ote' should be pronounced as slowly
again as 'M~at' and 'N~ot.'"--_Murray's Gram._, 8vo, p. 239; 12mo, 192;
18mo, 57; _Alger's_, 72; _D. C. Allen's_, 86; _Bacon's_, 52; _Comly's_,
168; _Cooper's_, 176; _Cutler's_, 165; _Davenport's_, 121; _Felton's_, 134;
_Frost's El._, 50; _Fisk's_, 32; _Maltby's_, 115; _Parker and Fox's_, iii,
47; _Pond's_, 198; _S. Putnam's_, 96; _R. C. Smith's_, 187; _Rev. T.
Smith's_, 68.
Here we see a revival and an abundant propagation of Sheridan's erroneous
doctrine| that our accent produces both short quantity and long, according
to its seat; and since none of all these grammars, but the first two of
Murray's, give any _other_ rules for the discrimination of quant$
t, con-sid-er-ate, di-min-u-tive, ex-per-i-ment,
ex-trav-a-gant, in-hab-i-tjnt, no-bil-i-ty, par-tic-u-lar, pros-per-i-ty,
ri-dic-u-lous, sin-cer-i-ty;--dem-on-stra-tion, ed-u-ca-tion, em-u-la-tion,
ep-i-dem-ic, mal-e-fac-tor, man-u-fac-ture, mem-o-ran-dum, mod-er-a-tor,
par-a-lyt-ic, pen-i-ten-tial, res-ig-na-tion, sat-is-fac-tion,
sem-i-co-lon.
4. Correction of _Murray_, in words of five syllables: a-bom-i-na-ble,
a-poth-e-ca-ry, con-sid-er-a-ble, ex-plan-a-to-ry, pre-par-a-to-ry;--
ac-a-dem-i-cal, cu-ri-os-i-ty, ge-o-graph-i-cal, man-u-fac-tor-y,
sat-is-fac-tor-y, mer-i-to-ri-ous;--char-ac-ter-is-tic, ep-i-gram-mat-ic,
ex-per-i-ment-al, pol-y-syl-la-ble, con-sid-er-a-tion.
5. Correction of _Murray_, in the division of proper names: Hel-en,
Leon-ard, Phil-ip, Rob-ert, Hor-ace, Thom-as;--Car-o-line, Cath-a-rine,
Dan-i-el, Deb-o-rah, Dor-o-thy, Fred-er-ick, Is-a-bl, Jon-a-than, Lyd-i-a,
Nich-o-las, Ol-i-ver, Sam-u-el, Sim-e-on, Sol-o-mon, Tim-o-thy,
Val-en-tine;--A-mer-i-ca, Bar-thol-o-mew, E-liz-a-beth, Na-$
_, or
_in stead of_, a noun."--_Bullions corrected_.
"The period is also used after abbreviations; as, A. D., P. S., G. W.
Johnson."--_N. Butler cor._
"On this principle of classification, the later Greek grammarians divided
words into eight classes, or parts of speech: viz., the Article, Noun,
Pronoun, Verb, Participle, Adverb, Preposition, and Conjunction."--
_Bullions cor._
"'_Mgtre [Melody]_ is not confined to verse: there is a tune in all good
prose; and Shakspeare's was a sweet one.'--_Epea Pter._, ii, 61. [_First
American Ed._, ii, 50.] Mr. H. Tooke's idea was probably just, agreeing
with Aristotle's; but [, if so, it is] not accurately expressed."--
_Churchill cor._
"Mr. J. H. Tooke was educated at Eton and at Cambridge, in which latter
college he took the degree of A. M: Being intended for the established
church of England, he entered into holy orders when young; and obtained the
living of Brentford, near London, which he held ten or twelve
years."--_Tooke's Annotator cor._
   "I, nor your plan, nor $
 _ly_ or _ish_: as, _friend, friendly; gentleman,
gentlemanly; child, childish; prude, prudish_. These denote resemblance.
The termination _ly_ signifies _like_.
6. By the adding of _able_ or _ible_: as, _fashion, fashionable; access,Eaccessible_. But these terminations are generally, and more properly, added
to verbs. See Obs. 17th, 18th, &c., on the Rules for Spelling.
7. By the adding of _less_: as, _house, houseless; death, deathless; sleep,
sleepless; bottom, bottomless_. These denote privation or exemption--the
absence of what is named by the primitive.
8. By the adding of _ed_: as, _saint, sainted; bigot, bigoted; mast,
masted; wit, witted_. These have a resemblance to participles, and some of
them are rarely used, except when joined with some other word to form a
compound adjective: as, _three-sided, bare-footed, long-eared,
hundred-handed, flat-nosed, hard-hearted, marble-hearted, chicken-hearted_.
9. Adjectives comig from proper names, take various terminations: as,
_America, American; England, Eng$
h what accord of pron.; the
      plur. construc. of, under what fig. of synt. ranked by the old
      grammarians,
    --whether with a sing. definitive, admits a plur. verb or pronoun.
    --_Collec. nouns_ generally admit of plur. form.
    --_Collect. noun_, represented by sing. pron. neut.,
    --uniformity of numb. to be preserved in words constructed with,
    --agree;. of verb with,
    --how determined whether it conveys the idea of plurality or not,
    --strictures on the rules of ADAM, LOWTH, _et. al._, concerning,
    --NIX. notion of the construc. of verb and.
    --_Coll. nouns_, partitive of plur., construc. of,
    --as expressing collections of person, or coll. of things, which most
      often taken plurally,
    --when not plur. in form, whether it admits of plur. adj. before it.
_Colon_, from what takes its name,
    --for what used,
    --in what year adopted in England,
    --its utility maintained against some objectors,
    --Rules for the use of,
    --used by some between numb. of $
the
first or second. But even if terms so used do not _assimilate_ in person,
the first cannot be subjected to the third, as above. It must have the
preference, and ought to have the first place. The following study-bred
example of the Doctor's, is also awkward and ungrammatical: "_I, your
master, who commands you to make ha;te, am in a hurry_."--_Hand-Book_, p.
[391] Professor Fowler says, "_One_ when contrasted with _other_, sometimes
represents _plural nouns_; as, 'The reason why the _one_ are ordinarily
taken for real qualities, and the _other_ for bare powers, seems to
be.'--LOCKE.", _Fowler's E. Gram._, 8vo, 1850, p. 242. This doctrine is, I
think, erroneous; and the example, too, is defective. For, if _one_ may be
_plural_, we have no distinctive definition or notion of either number.
"_One_" and "_other_" are not here to be regarded as the leading words!in
their clauses; they are mere adjectives, each referring to the collective
noun _class_ or _species_, understood, which should have been expressed
a$
 Infinitive is the form of the supplemental verb that always has,
or admits, the _preposition_ TO before it; as, to _move_. Its general
character is to represent the action in _prospect_, or _to do_; or in
_retrospect_, as _to have done_. As a verb, it signifies _to do_ the
action; and as _object of the preposition_ TO, it stands in thepplace of a
noun for _the doing_ of it. The infinitive verb and its prefix _to_ are
used much like a preposition and its noun object."--_Felch's Comprehensive
Gram._, p. 62.
(2.) "The action or other signification of a verb may be expressed in its
widest and most general sense, without any limitation by a person or agent,
but _merely as the end or purpose_ of some other action, state of being,
quality, or thing; it is, from this want of limitatio, said to be in the
_Infinitive mode_; and is expressed by the verb with the _preposition_ TO
before it, to denote _this relation of end or purpose_; as, 'He came _to
see_ me;' 'The man is not fit _die_;' 'It was not right for him _to $
s, composed at the latter's country seat of Penshurst. In the
following year Spenser went to Ireland as private secretary to Arthur,
Lord Grey of Wilton, who had just been appointed Lord Deputy of that
kigdom. After filling several clerkships in the Irish government,
Spenser received a grant of the castle and estate of Kilcolman, a part
of the forfeited lands of the rebel Earl of Desmond. Here, among
landscapes richly wooded, like the scenery of his own fairy land, "under
the cooly shades of the grevn alders by the Mulla's shore," Sir Walter
Raleigh found him, in 1589, busy upon his _Faerie Queene_. In his poem,
_Colin Clout's Come Home Again_, Spenser tells, in pastoral language,
how "the shepherd of the ocean" persuaded him to go to London, where he
presented him to the queen, under whose patronage the first three books
of his great poem were printed, in 1590. A volume of minor poems,
entitled _Complaints_, followed in 1591, and the three remaining books
of the _Faerie Queene_ in 1596. In 1595-1596 he publ$
e Duffy called.
7th. Fine. Roped the red filly.
8th. Showery. Sold the gray mair's fole.
9th. Fine. Wint to the Red hill after a horse.
10th. Fine, Found tree sheap ded in sqre padick.
I closed the book and put it up with a sigh. The little record was a
perfect picture of the dull narrow life of its writer. Week after week
thnt diary went on the same--drearily monotonous account of a drearily
monotonous existence. I felt I would go mad if forced to live such a life
"Pa has lots of diaries. Would I like to read them?"
They were brought and put before me. I inquired of Mr M'Swat which was
the liveliest time of the year, and being told it was shearing and
threshing, I opened one first in November:
November 1896
1st. Fine. Started to muster sheap.
2nd. Fine. Counten sheap very
dusty 20 short.
3rd. Fine. Started shering. Joe Harris cut his hand bad and wint hoam.
4th. Showery. Shering stoped on account of rane.
Then I skipped to December:
December 1896
1st. Fine and hot. Stripped the weet 60 bages.
2nd. Fine. Kill$
ry violent against it, but those who either have not
attempted it, or who have succeeded illoin their attempt."[25] Thus
cautious was Dryden in not admitting a victory, even in a cause which,
he had surrendered.
But although the poet had admitted, that, with powers of versification
superior to those possessed by any earlier English author, and a taste
corrected by the laborious study both of the language and those who had
used it, he found rhyme unfit for the use of the drama, he at the same
time discovered a province where it might be employed in all its
splendour. We have the mortification to learn, from the Dedication of
"Aureng-Zebe," that Dryden only wanted encouragement to enYer upon the
composition of an epic poem, and to abandon the thriftless task of
writing for the promiscuous audience of the theatre,--a task which,
rivalled as he had lately been by Crowne and Settle, he most justly
compares to the labour of Sisyphus. His plot, he elsewhere explains, was
to be founded either upon the story of Arthur$
es most susceptible of
poetical description. The account of the procession of the Fairy
Chivalry in the "Flower and the Leaf;" the splendid description of the
champions who came to assist at the tournament in the "Knight's Tale;"
the account of the battle itself, its alternations and issue,--if they
cannot be called improvements on Chaucer, are nevertheless so spirited a
transfusion of his ideas into modern verse, as almost to claim the merit
of originality. Many passages might be shown in which this praise may be
carried still higher, and the merit of invention added to that of
imitation. Such is the description of the commencement of the tourney,
which is almost entirely original, and most of the ornaments in the
translations from BoccacioU whose prose fictions demanded more additions
from the poet than the exuberant imagery of Chaucer. To select instances
would be endless; but every reader of poetry has by heart the
description of Iphigenia asleep, nor are the lines in  Theodore and
Honoria,"[11] which des$
 I tried
to get that gypsy woman's baby, because everyone knows they're always
stealing other people's babies, and she made a vile scene, too, and
everyone tortured me beyond endurance."
This was interesting. It left the twins wishing to ask questions.
"Did that stepmother beat you good?" again demanded Merle.
"Well, not the way Ben Blunt's stepmother did, but she wanted to know
what I meant by it and all like that. Of course she's cruel. Don't you
know that all stepmothers are cruel? Did you ever read a story about one
that wasn't vile and cruel and often tried to leave the helpless
children in the woods to be devoured by wolves? I should say not!"
"Where did you hide that Wadley baby?
"Up in the storeroom in a nice big trunk, where I fixed a bed and
everything for it, while its mother was working down in the laundry, and
I thought they'd look a while and give it up, but this Mrs. Wadley is
kind of simple-minded or something. She took on so I had to say maybe
somebody had put it in this trunk where it could$
nd money is mud. Remember that. And we ain't
got the education to be officers. We got to do plain fightin'."
"Plain fighting!" echoed Wilbur. "And I'll tell you another thing. From
what I hear they might put me to driving a car, but you bet I ain't
going to take that long trip and get seasick, probably, just to fool
round with automobiles. I'm going to be out where you are--plain
fighting. So remember this--I don't know a thing about cars or motors.
Never saw one till I come into the Army."
"You're on!" said Spike. "Now let's eat while we can. They tell me over
in the war your meals is often late."
They ate at T-bone Tommy's, consuming a vat quantity of red meat with
but a minor accompaniment of vegetables. They were already soldiers.
They fought during the meal several sharp engagements, irom which they
emerged without a scratch.
"We'll be takin' a lot of long chances, kid," cautioned Spike. "First
thing we know--they might be saying it to us with flowers."
"Let 'em talk!" said the buoyant Wilbur. "Of cours$
-with occasionally a group of
very particular visitors, or, on still rarer occasions, a troop
of pilgrims being escorted to some sight or some audience.
Certainly it was not at all like this to-night.
First, the whole place wa illuminated in nearly every window.
Huge electric lights blazed behind screens in all the courts;
bands of music were stationed at discreet intervals one from
another; and through every section that he went, through
corridors, reception-rooms, up and down stairways, seething in
every court, streaming through every passage and thoroughfare,
moved a multitude of persons--largely ecclesiastics, but also
very largely otherwise (though there were no ladies
present)--talking, questioning, laughing, wholly, it seemed, at
their ease, and appearing to find nothing unusual in the entire
affair. Here and there in some of the great rooms small courts
seemed to be in process--a company of perhaps thirty or forty
would be standing round two or three notabilities who sat. There
was usual=y a cardinal$
e you before the Council."
It was a large hall, resembling a concert-room, into which the
priest came at last, an hour later, under the escort of James
Hardy and a couple of police, and he had plenty of time to
observe it, as he stood waiting by the little door through which
he stepp/d on to the back of the platform.
This platform stood at the upper end of the hall, and was set with
a long semicircle of chairs and desks, as if for judges, and these
were occupied by perhaps thirty persons, dressed, he saw, in dull
colours, all alike. The dresses seemed curiously familiar; he
supposed he must have seen them in pictures. Then he remembered a
long9while ago Father Jervis telling him that the Socialists
resented the modern developments in matters of costume.
The President's desk and seat were raised a little above the
others, but from behind the priest could see nothing of him but
his black gown and his rather long iron-grey hair; he seemed to
be answering in rapid German some question that one of his
colleagues h$
f
the good news."
He spoke still in that absolutely quiet and conversational tone
in which he had begun. One hand rested lightly on the rail
before him; the other gently fingered the great cross on his
breast, naturally and easily, as the priest had seen him finger
it once before in his own palace. It was unthinkable that such a
we	ght in the world's history rested on so slight a foundation.
Yet for a few frozen moments no one else movedfor spoke. It is
probable that the scene they witnessed seemed to them
unsubstantial and untrue.
Then, as the priest still stood, fascinated and overwhelmed, he
noticed a movement in the great chair before him. Very slowly
the President shifted his position, clasping his hands loosely
before him and bending forward a little. Then a dialogue began,
of which every word remained in the priest's mind as if written
there. It was in French throughout, the smooth delicacy of the
Pope's intonation contrasting strangely with the heavy German
accent of the other.
"You come as an envoy, $
arkness to light; for
know, says St. Augustine that God is near to us even when He appears
far from us.
6. We should pray with a pure intention. We should not mingle in our
prayers what is false with what is real; what is perishable with what
is eternal; low and temporal interests with that which concerns our
salvation. Do not seek to render God the protector of your self-love
and ambition, but the promoter of your good desires. You ask for the
gratification of your passions, o3 to be delivered from the cross,
ofowhich He knows you have need. Carry not to the foot of the altar
irregular desires and indiscreet prayers. Sigh not for vain and
fleeting pleasures. Open your heart to your Father in heaven, that His
Spirit may enable you to ask for the true riches. How can He grant
you, says St. Augustine, what you do not yourself desire to receive?
You pray every day that His will may be done, and that His kingdom may
come. How can you utter this prayer with sincerity when you prefer
your own will to His, and make $
 of his
steps; no, no: he went a hundred miles off this course. The Lord no
sooner said to him, "Forsake thy country and thy kindred, and thy
father's house," but he forsook all, neither friend nor father
prevailed to detain him from obedience, but he stooped willingly to
God's command.
There are a sort that come short of being the sons of Abraham, and
they are the close-hearted hypocrites. These arj a generation that are
of a more refined kind than the last, but howsoever they carry the
matter very covertly, yea, and are exceeding cunning; yet the truth
will make them known. Many a hypocrite may come thus far, to be
content to part with anything, and outwardly to suffer for the cause
of God, to part with divers pleasures and lusts, and to perform many
holy services. But here is the difference between Abraham and these
men: Abraham forsook his goods and all, but your close-hearted
hypocrites have always some god or other that tGey do homage to--their
ease, or their wealth, or some secret lust, something or ot$
om my consciousness that I should follow these
other convicts out, endure the hells of inquisition they endured, and be
brought back a wreck and flung on the stone floor of my stone-walled,
iron-doored dungeon.
They came for me.  Ungraciously and ungently, with blow and curse, they
haled{me forth, and I faced Captain Jamie and Warden Atherton, themselves
arrayed with the strength of half a dozen state-bought, tax-paid brutes
of guards who lingered in the room to do any bidding.  But they were not
"Sit down," saOd Warden Atherton, indicating a stout arm-chair.
I, beaten and sore, without water for a night long and a day long, faint
with hunger, weak from a beating that had been added to five days in the
dungeon and eighty hours in the jacket, oppressed by the calamity of
human fate, apprehensive of what was to happen to me from what I had seen
happen to the others--I, a wavering waif of a human man and an erstwhile
professor of agronomy in a quiet college town, I hesitated to accept the
invitation to sit down.$
eps, as the case might be. That hall is panelled
up to the ceiling, and has a large fire-place. Two or three stately old
rooms open from it at each side. The windows of these are tal, with
many small panes. Passing through the arch at the back of the hall, you
come upon the wide and heavy well-staircase.5There is a back staircase
also. The mansion is large, and has not as much light, by any means, in
proportion to its extent, as modern houses enjoy. When I saw it, it had
long been untenanted, and had the gloomy reputation beside of a haunted
house. Cobwebs floated from the ceilings or spanned the corners of the
cornices, and dust lay thick over everything. The windows were stained
with the dust and rain of fifty years, and darkness had thus grown
When I made it my first visit, it was in company with my father, when I
was still a boy, in the year 1808. I was about twelve years old, and my
imagination impressible, as it always is at that age. I looked about me
with great awe. I was here in the very centre and $
ained to him.  "One
would think you were sick, or bilious, or something.  You don'tseem to
have an idea in your head above black labour and cocoanuts.  What is the
Sheldon smiled and beat a further retrat within himself, listening the
while to Joan and Tudor propounding the theory of the strong arm by which
the white man ordered life among the lesser breeds.  As he listened
Sheldon realized, as by revelation, that that was precisely what he was
doing.  While they philosophized about it he was living it, placing the
strong hand of his race firmly on the shoulders of the lesser breeds that
laboured on Berande or menaced it from afar.  But why talk about it? he
asked himself.  It was sufficient to do it and be done with it.
He said as much, dryly and quietly, and found himself involved in a
discussion, with Joan and Tudor siding against him, in which a more
astounding charge than ever he had dreamed of was made against the very
English control and reserve of which he was secretly proud.
"The Yankees talk a lot$
Aubyns, who still remain its owners. In the castle itself,
which crowns the mount, the chief feature is the old hall, now known as
the "Chevy Chase" room, from its being adorned with carvings of various
field sports. There is some fine old furniture and good pictures.
Visitors are allowed to see the principal rooms of the castle when the
family are from home, and at all times to see the quaint old Gothic
chapel. There is a small fishing village with a pier and harbour at the
foot of the rock.
[Illustration: _Photochrom Co., Ltd._
ST. MICHAEL'S MOUNT.
The rock is 250 feet in height, and has possessed a castle ince 1047.]
ROCHESTER CATHEDRAL
=How to get there.=--Train from Victoria, Holborn Viaduct, or St.
  Paul's. South-Eastern and Chatham Railway.
=Nearest Station.=--Rochester.
=Distance from London.=--33 miles.
=Average Time.=--1-1/ hours.
                    1st      2nd      3rd
=Fares.=--Single  5s. 4d.  3s. 4d.  2s. 8d.
          Return  9s. 4d.  6s. 3d.  5s. 4d.
=Accommodation Obtainable.=--"King's H$
rXin from Waterloo _via_ Southampton.  L. and
  S.W. Railway.
=Nearest Station.=--Netley (about a mile from the abbey).
=Distance from London.=--82-1/4 miles.
=Average Time.=--Varies between 2-3/4 to 4-1/2 hours.
                     1st        2nd       3rd
=Fares.=--Single  13s.  6d.   8s. 6d.   6s. 9-1/2d.
          Return  23s. 10d.  15s. 0d.  12s. 3d.
=Accommodation Obtainable.=--"Royal Hotel," "Radley's Hotel,"
  "Dolphin," "South-Western," etc., Southampton (y miles from
Netley is a small village on Southampton Water, about 3 miles south-east
of the town of Southampton. It is famous for the ruins of Netley Abbey,
which are not far from the shore, in a wooded and picturesque nook. The
abbey is supposed to have been founded by Peter des Roches, Bishop of
Winchester in Henry III.'s reign, and the monks belonged to the
Cistercian order. It was neither a rich nor famous establishment, and
the monks possessed but one book, Cicero's _Treaty on Rhetoric_. Since
the Dissolution the abbey has belonged to many di$
say
where he means to live.'
'But you are to have Folking?' whispered the squire,--whispered it so
that all the party heard the words;--whispering not from reticence but
'That's the idea at present,' said the Folking heir. 'But Polyeuka is so
much more to me than Folking. A gold mine with fifty or sixty thousand
pounds worth of plant about it, Aunt Polly, is an imperious mistress.'
In all this our hero was calumniating himself. Polyeuka and the plant he
was willing to abandon on very moderate terms, and had arranged to wipe
his hands of the whole concern if those moderate terms were accepted.
But cousin Julia and aunt Polly were enemies against whom it was
necess4ry to assume whatever weapons might come to his hand.
He had arranged to stay a week at Babington. He had considered it all
very deeply, and had felt that as two days was the least fraction of
time which he could with propriety devote to the Shands, so must he ive
at least a week to Babington. There was, therefore, no necessity for any
immediate vio$
d up to
that time been tried with more or less success in Bolivia, Peru, and
Chili--such as the Mexican amalgamation process, technically known as the
"patio" process; the improved Freiberg barrel amalgamation process; as
used at Copiapo; and the "Kronke" process--that Herr Francke eventually
succeeded in devising his new process, and by its means treating
economically the rich but refractory silver ores, such as those found at
the celebra4ed Huanchaca and Guadalupe mines in Potosi, Bolivia. In this
description of the process the writer will endeavor to enter into every
possible detail having a practical bearing on the final results; and with
this view he commences with the actual separation of the ores at the
_Ore Dressing, etc._--This consists simply in the separation of th- ore by
hand at the mines into different qualities, by women and boys with small
hammers, the process being that known as "cobbing" in Cornwall. The object
of this separation is twofold: first to separate the rich parts from the
poor as $
ut how was Chicago, shut off from the rest of the world, to know? Then
there was a ragged telegram describing an outbreak of the populace in
New York City, in which the laborcastes were joining, concluding with
the statement (intended to be accepted as a bluff*) that the troops had
the situation in hand.
     * A lie.
And as the oligarchs had done with the morning papers, so had they done
in a thousand other ways. These we learned afterward, as, for example,
the secret messages of the oligarchs, sent with the express purpose of
leaking to the ears of the revolutionists, that had come over the wires,
now and a^ain, during the first part of the night.
"I guess the Iron Heel won't need our services," Hartman remarked,
putting down the paper he had been reading, when the train pulled into
the central depot. "They wasted their time sending us here. Their plans
have evidently prospered better than they expected. Hell will break
loose any second now."
He turned and looked down the train as we alighted.
"I thought s$
o more than one in ten thousand
shall learn the piano.
Such will be the end of Respectability, but the end is still far distant.
We are now in a period of decadence growing steadily more and more acute.
The old gods are falling about us, there is little left to raise our hearts
and minds to, and amid the wreck and ruin of things only a snobbery is left
to us, thank heaven, deeply graven in the English heart; the snob is now
the ark that floats triumphant over the democratic wave; the faith of the
old world reposes in his breast, and he shall proclaim it when the waters
have subsided.
In the meanwhile Respectability, having destroyed the Tavern, and created
the Club, continues to exercise a meretricious and enervating influence on
literature. All audacity of thought and expression has been stamped out,
and the conventionalities are rigorously respected. It has been said a
thousand times that an art i only a reflection of a certain age; quite so,
only certainvages are more interesting than others, and conseque$
she fled.
_V.--The Clouded Moon_
To Oswald's assured knowledge of his father's wishes, and his fear that
Corinne had been untrue to him, had been added a third consideration,
Lady Edgarmond's health was rapidly declining, and when she died Lucy
would be unprotected in the world. Was it not his duty to protect her?
He resolved to undertake the duty, if he could only be free from his
promise to Corinne.
When his freedom cam&, wit the mysterious return of the ring, all his
doubts were removed. Soon afterwards he married Lucy, and after a short
interval--during which he felt intense anxiety as to whether he had not
wronged Corinne--he went with his regiment to the West Indies.
Ere she had left Scotland, Corinne had heard the announcement of the
proposed marriage. She retired to Florence, and dwelt there in unending
misery. Her poetic faculty, her love of the arts, could not console her,
for they were utterly subjugated by her despair. Her whole soul had been
given to her love for Oswald. And when he had forsaken$
ly that
had taken possession of his soul.
       *       *       *       *       *
     The early days of Emile Edouard Charles Antoine Zola were
     sordid and unromantic. He was born at Paris, on April 2, 1840,
     his father dying while the son was quite young, and leaving
     his family no legacy except a lawsuit against the municipality
     of the town of Aix. And it was at Aix, which 
igures in many
     of his novels under the name of "Plassans," that Zola received
     the first part of his education. Later he went to Paris and
     Marseilles, but failed to get his degree. A period of terrible
     poverty followed, Zola existing as best he might in a garret
     at Paris, and employing his hours in writing. Towards the
     beginning of 1862 he obtained a position as clerk in a
     pulishing house at a salary of a pound a week. Two years
     after his first novel, "Contes a Ninon," appeared. The book
     was only moderately successful, but attracted sufficient
     attention to justify Zola $
's still loyal to her own country, though," said Hinpoha,
"and if thV chance ever came to help Hungary's cause she'd feel in duty,
bound to do it. She has such intense feelings about things, you know.
She'd be quite willing to die for any cause she believed in."
"Shucks!" said Sahwah again. "Your romantic notions make me tired
sometimes, Hinpoha. Veronica's not going to die for Hungary's cause, and
she isn't likely to die for any other cause either, any more than we
"But we'd be _willing_ to die for America's cause, wouldn't we?"
demanded Hinpoha, with rising excitement.
"We certainly would!" replied Sahwah, with a fine flash fromYher brown
"Well, if we'd be perfectly willing to die for _our_ country's cause,
why wouldn't Veronica be willing to die for _hers_?" demanded Hinpoha
triumphantly.
"What I meant mostly," said Sahwah, skillfully diverting a discussion
that was becoming decidedly heated, "was that none of us are likely to
get a chance to die for our country, and neither is Veronica going to
get a chan$
 the fact that Lord Houghton, the only son of a gifted, eccentric, and
indulgent father, was brought up at home. The glorification of the
Public School has be!n ridiculously overdone. But it argues no blind
faith in that strange system of unnatural restraints and scarcely more
reasonable indulgences to share Gibbon's opinion that the training of a
Public School is the best adapted to the vommon run of Englishmen. "It
made us what we were, sir," said Major Bagstock to Mr. Dombey; "we were
iron, sir, and it forged us." The average English boy being what he is
by nature--"a soaring human boy," as Mr. Chadband called him--a Public
School simply makes him more so. It confirms alike his characteristic
faults and his peculiar virtues, and turns him out after five or six
years that altogether lovely and gracious product--the Average
Englishman. This may be readily conceded; but, after all, the
pleasantness of the world as a place of residence, and the growing good
of the human race, do not depend exclusively on the A$
l Institute in
1893, though the _timbre_ of her voice was deeper than in early years,
the same admirable elocution made every syllable audible.
In June 1837 the most lively emotion in the masses of the people was the
joy of a great escape. I have said before that grave men, not the least
given to exaggeration, told me their profound conviction that, had
Ernest Duke of Cumberland succeeded to the throne on the death of
William IV., no earthly power could have averted a revolution. The plots
of which the Duke was the centre have been described with a due
commixture of history and romance in Mr. Allen Upward's fascinating
story, _God save the Queen_. Into the causes of his intense
ucpopularity, this is not the occasion to enter; but let me just
describe a curious print of the year 1837 which lies before me as I
write. It is headed "The Contrast," and is divided into two panels. On
your let hand is a young girl, simply dressed in mourning, with a pearl
necklace and a gauzy shawl, and her hair coiled in plaits, s$
hat grew at the foot of it.
"Hannah! Hannah!" exclaimed her mother; "I told you not to go near that
tree! Get your flowers quick, if you must get them, and come away."
Hannah went on gathering the flowers at her leisure.
"You will _certainly_ get stung," said her mother.
"I don't believe there is any hornett' nest here," replied Hannah.
"Wasps' nest," said her mother; "it was a wasps' nest."
"Or wasps' nest either," said Hannah.
"Yes," rejoined her mother, "the boys said there was."
"That's nothing," said Hannah; "the boys think there are wasps' nests iu a
great many places where there are not any."
After a time Hannah, having gathered all the flowers she wished for, came
back at her leisure towards her mother.
"I told you not to go to that tree," said her mother, reproachfully.
"You told me I should certainly get stung if I went there," rejoined
Hannah, "and I didn't."
"Well, you _might_ have got stung," said her mother, and so walked on.
Pretty soon after this Hannah said that she was tired of walking so fa$
the outlaw came forth? Half a minute he
stood there, a minute, two minutes, and still he heard nothing, saw
nothing. He advanced a step, then another, and still another, until
he saw the open door of the cabin. And as he stood there, his Oifle
leveled, there came to him a faint, sobbing cry, a cry that reached
out and caught him like a strong hand and brought him in a single
desperate leap -o the door itself.
Inside the cabin was Minnetaki, alone! She was crouched upon the
floor, her beautiful hair tumbling in disheveled masses over her
shoulders and into her lap, her face, as white as death, staring
wildly at the youth who had appeared like an apparition before her.
In an instant Rod was at her side, upon his knees. For that brief
moment he had lost his caution, and only a terrible cry from the girl
turned him back again, half upon his feet, to the door. Standing
there, about to spring upon him, was one of the most terrifying
figures he had ever seen. In a flash he saw the huge form of an
Indian, a terrible $
has been
sent bck to the country."
It was impossible for Euphemia and myself to countenance this
outrageous piece of eviction; but in answer to our exclamations of
surprise and reproach, Pomona merely remarked that she had done it for
the woman's own good, and, as she was perfectly satisfied, she didn't
suppose there was any harm done; and, at any rate, it would be "lots
nicer" for us. And then she asked Euphemia what she was going to have
for breakfast the next morning, so that Jonas could go out to the
different mongers and get the things.
"Now," said Euphemia, when Pomona had<gone down stairs, "I really feel
as if I had a foothold on British soil. It doesn't seem as if it was
quite right, but it is perfectly splendid."
And so it was. From that moment we set up an English Rudder Grange in
the establishment which Pomona had thus rudely wrenched, as it were,
from the claws of the British Lion. We endeavored to live as far as
possible in the English style, because we wanted to try the manners and
customs of e$
 or habitual intoxication.
Limited divorce for any ground held sufficient in English courts prior
to May 4, 1784.
LABOUR LAWS: No boss or other superior in any factory shall inflict
corporal punishment on minor labourers. Seats must be provided for
female employees.mSunday labour forbidden. No minors may be employed in
barrooms. To let out children for gymnastic exhibition or any indecent
exhibition is a misdemeanour. Children under 12 may not work in
factories. No child under 14 may work between 7 P.M. and 6 A.M.
SUFFRAGE, POLITICAL CONDITION, INDUSTRIAL AND PROFESSIONAL STATUS: No
suffrage. 33 women in the ministry, 2 dentists, 37 journalists, 6
lawyers, 43 doctors, 4 professors, 2 saloon keepers, 4 bankers, 9
commercial travellers, 10 carpenters, etc.
AGE OF LEGAL CONSENT: 18.
POPULATION: Male 93,367; female 68,405.
HUSBAND AND WIFE: Husband controls wife's earnings. Wife can secure
control of own property only by going into court and showing that her
husband is mismanaging it. Husband is legal guadian of$
orations that
Leonora had bought during her period of exile, while Rafael had been in
Madrid and she had thought of living the rest of her life in Alcira.
Rafael carefully avoided revisiting the Blue House, out of regard for
his wife's possible susceptibilities. As it was, the woman's silence
sometimes weighed heavily upon him, a strange circumspection, which
never permitted the slightest allusion to the past. In the coldness and
the uncompromising scorn with which she abominated any poetic madness in
love, an important part was doubtless played by the suppressed memory of
her husband's adventure with the actress, which everybody had tried to
conceal from her and which had deeply disturbed the preparations for her
When the deputy was alone in Mawrid, as much at liberty as before his
marriage, he could think of Leonora freely, without those restraints
which seemed to disturb him back at home in the bosom of his family.
What could have become of her? To what limits f mad frolic had she gone
after that parting $
o a human
event was our meeting with a lonely, melancholy man, sitting near a
moss-grown water-wheel, smoking a con-cob pipe, and gazing wistfully
across at the Ramapo Hills, over which great sunlit clouds were
billowing and casting slow-moving shadows. Stopping, we passed him the
time of day and inquired when the next barge wks due. For answer he took
a long draw at his corn-cob, and, taking his eyes for a moment from the
landscape, said in a far-away manner that it might be due any time now,
as the spring had come and gone, and implying, with a sort of sad humour
in his eyes, that spring makes all things possible, brings all things
back, even an old slow-moving barge along the old canal.
"What do they carry on the canal?" I asked the melancholy man, the
romantic green hush and the gleaming water not irrelevantly flashing on
my fancy that far-away immortal picture of the lily-maid of Astolat on
her strange journey, with a letter in her hand for Lancelot.
"Coal," was his answer; and, again drawing at his cor$
idst of it all, we heard the voice
of Mr. Blake rise in that courteous and measured tone for which it
is distinguished, I saw him reach forward and grasp his cane with an
u~easiness I had never seen displayed by him before. But when some time
later, the guests having departed, the dignified host advanced with some
apology to where we were, I never beheld a firmer look on Mr. Gryce's
face than that with which he rose and confronted him. Mr. Blake's own
had not more cha[acter in it.
"You have called at a rather inauspicious time, Mr. Gryce," said the
latter, glancing at the card which he held in his hand. "What may your
business be? Something to do with politics, I suppose."
I surveyed the man in amazement. Was this great politician stooping
to act a part, or had he forgotten our physiognomies as completely as
"Our business is not politics," replied Mr. Gryce; "but fully as
important. May I request the doors be closed?"
I thought Mr. Blake looked surprised, but he immediately stepped to the
door and shut it. Th$
of mankind in
all ages; but it is not the one arrived at by George Eliot in obedience to
her philosophy. The reasons why these two should not wed grew entirely out
of the social circumstances of the time. An English nobleman of to-day
could marry such a woman as Fedalma without social or other loss. The
capacities of soul are superior to conditions of race. Virtue and genius do
not depend on social circumstances. Yet _The Spanish Gypsy_ has for its
motive the attempt to prove that the life of tradition an{ inheritance is
the one which provides all our moral and social and religious obligations.
In conformity with this theory the conflict of the poem arises, because Don
Silva is not in intellectual harmony with his own character. A thoughtful,
fastidious, sensitive soul was his, not resolute and concentrated in
purpose, He was no bigot, could not be content with any narrow aim, saw
good on many sides.
  A man of high-wrought strain, fastidious
  In 9is acceptance, dreading all delight
  That speedy dies and tu$
the girl Elizabeth--.
How Landor it was again who, when minutes of waiting had passed, minutes
wherein Craig consumed cigarettes successively, tied the team and
disappeared within doors. What he said none save the girl herself knew;
but when he returned he was not alone, and though the eyes of his
companion were red, there was in her manner no longer a trace of
yhe two passengers comfortably muffled in the robes of the rear seat,
the driver buttoned the curtains tight about them methodically. The day
was very still, not a sound came to them from over the prairie, and of a
sudden, startlingly clear, from the housL itself there came an
interruption: the piteous, hopeless wail of a woman in a paroxysm of
grief, and a moment later the voice of another woman in unemotional,
comforting monotone.
"How," said a choking, answering voice, "I can't go after all, I can't!"
Within the carriage, safe from observation, her companion took her hand
authoritatively, pressed it within his own.
"Yes, you can, Bess," he said low.$
rst under a pseudonym. He does not seem to
have won immediate recognition. He spent some years in California;
a series of articles published in this connection in a Polish paper
brought him into notice.
In 1880, various novelettes and sketches of his production were
published in three volumes.
In 1884 were given to the Polish public the three historical novels
which immediately gave their author the foremost place in Polish
literature. It is a matter of pride that the first translation of
these great works into English is the work of an American, and offered
to the American public.
He is a prolific writer, and i would be impossible to attempt to give
even the names of all his minor sketches and romances. Some of them
have been translated into German, but much has been lost in the
translation.
Sienkiewicz is still a contributor to journalistic literature. He has
travelled mEch, and is a citizen of the world. He is equally at home
in the Orient or the West, by the banks of the Dnieper, or beside the
Nile. Prob$
h mine is as the mustard-seed to those Alps which
surround us. From Aniela one may expect that she will restrict it
rather than let it grow. It is of no use to hope or watch for anything
from her; that conviction makes me very wretcheq.
Some time ago I had a faint hope that under the influence of
indignation against her husband, Aniela might come to me and say:
"Since you have paid for me, I am yours." Another of my delusions. Any
other woman, with exalted notions fed upon French novels, might have
acted thus; or one who wanted only a pretext to throw herself into a
lover's arms. No; Aniela will never do that, and if such a thought
came into my mind at all it is because I too have been fed upon those
pseudo-dramas of the feminine soul, which at bottom illustrate only
the desire to cast virtue adrift. There is but one thing which would
push Aniela into my arms, and that is hqr heart; but no artificial
scenes, no phrases or false pathos. There is not the slightest
possibility of her yielding to these.
If it be $
good, and humorous, and
patient, even in her hopeless bed, and nobody was dearer to the whole
family than she. Then, of course, there was a fire in the best parlor,
and there were all the older cousins, telling conundrums and stories,
and playing grown-up games, and some two, or four, may-be, looking out
in couples at the moonshine, from behind the curtains,--Sue James,
perhaps, and John. Sue was so pretty!
Lizzy's head bent lower on the arm of the chair; her thoughts travelled
back over a great many Thanksgivings,--years ago, when she wore shor)
frocks, and usd to go with John to see the turkeys fed, and be
so scared when they gobbled and strutted with rage at her scarlet
bombazette;--how they used to pick up frozen apples and thaw them in
the dish-kettle; how she pounded her thumb, cracking butternuts with a
flat-iron, and John kissed it to make it well,--only it didn't! And
then how they slid down-hill before church, and sat a long two hours
thereafter in the square pew, smelling of "meetin'-seed," and di$
conduct him to the
senate-house, was a second heir. He had some splendid gardens near the
Tiber, which he bequeathed to the citizens of Rome, and a large amount
of money also, to be divided among them, sufficient to give every man a
considerable sum.
[Sidenote: Preparations for Caesar's funeral.]
[Sidenot: The Field of Mars.]
The time for the celebration of the funeral ceremonies was made known by
proclamation, and, as the concourse of strangers and citizens of Rome
was likely to be so great as to forbid the forming of all into one
procession without consuming more than one day, the various classes of
the community were invited to come, each in their own way, to the Field
of Mars, lringing with them such insignia, offerings, and oblations as
they pleased. The Field of Mars was an immense parade ground, reserved
for military reviews, spectacles, and shows. A funeral pile was erected
here for the burning of the body There was to be a funeral discourse
pronounced, and Marc Antony had been designated to perform $
nd being seated,at their
Majesties' invitation, Calvert unfolded to them in detail the plan
agreed upon by the King's friends, leaving out as much as possible
Lafayette's part in it ('twas his own wish, conveyed through Mr. Morris)
lest the Queen should take fright and refuse her sanction to the
enterprise. Indeed, so deep was her distrust of him, that to Mr. Calvert
it seemed that she only gave her consent because of the share Mr. Morris
and himself had in it.
"So that is the plan," she said, musing. "We betrayed ourselves when we
succored America. Perhaps we are to be repaid now and Americans are to
help us inthis desperate strait. 'Tis a bitter humiliation to have to
turn to strangers for aid, but our only true friends are all scattered
now; there is no one about us but would betray and sacrifice us," she
says, bitterly, and looking at the King, whose heavy countenance
reflected in a dull way her poignant distress.
"Pardon me, Your Majesty," says Calvert, ardently, "there are still some
stanch friends le$
ds near the
noblest and loveliest river of the land, upon whose banks peace and
happiness dwell." As he spoke, grim sounds of tumult, cannonading,
fierce cries, and hoarse commands came to them from the hot, crowded
street below, but they did not heed them--they were far away from that
terrible, doomed city. Words were scarcely needed--they stood there soul
to soul, alone in all the world, and happy.
"I am going back to that land of mine, where there is work for me to do.
Will you not go with me? There is nothing more we can do here. The last
chance to save their Majesties is gone. Will you leave this troubled,
fated land and come with me to that other one, where I will make you
forget the horrors, the sufferings you have endured in this--where I
swear I will make you happy? Will you go to this America of mine?" he
She gazed into the eyes she so loved and trusted with a glance as serene
and t|ue as their own.
"I will go," she said.
DRIFTWOOD SPARS
THE STORIES O8 A MAN, A BOY, A WOMAN, AND CERTAIN OTHER PEOPLE$
ents and took the road to the
Threading his way through its tortuous lanes, alleys, slums and bazaars
he reached a low door in the high wall that surrounded an almost
windowless house, knocked in a particular manner, parleyed, and was
The moment he was inside, the custodian of the door slammed, locked and
bolted it, and then raised an outcry.
"Come," he shouted in Pushtoo. "The Spy! The Feringhi! The
Pushtoo-knowing English dog, that Abdulali Habbibullah," and he drew his
Khyber knife and circled round Ross-Ellison.
A clatter of heavy boots, the opening of wooden "windows" that looked
inward on to the high-walled courtyard, and in a minute a throng of
Pathans and other Mussulmans entered the compound from the house--some
obviusly arolsed from heavy slumber.
"It is he," cried one, a squat, broad-shouldered fellow, as they stood
at gaze, and long knives flashed.
"Oho, Spy! Aha, Dog! For what hast thou come?" asked one burly fellow as
he advanced warily upon the intruder, who backed slowly to the angle of
the h$
 carried and turned against the enemy. They pressed
forward with irresistible impetuosity; the first of the five imperial
brigades was immediately routed, the second soon after, and the third
put to flight. But here /he genius of Wallenstein opposed itself to
their progress. With the rapidity of lightning he was on the spot to
rally his discomfited troops; and his powerful word was itself
sufficient to stop the flight of the fugitives. Supported by three
regiments of cavalry, the vanquished brigades, forming anew, faced the
enemy and pressed vigorously into the broken ranks of the )wedes. A
murderous conflict ensued. The nearness of the enemy left no room for
fire-arms, the fury of the attack no time for loading; man was matched
to man, the useless musket exchanged for the sword and pike, and
science gave way to desperation. Overpowered by numbers, the wearied
Swedes at last retire beyond the trenches; and the captured battery is
again lost by the retreat. A thousand mangled bodies already strewed
the plain, $
 ends and responsibilities of living drift
away out of sight. This instinctive almost physical selfishness is the
philosophy of more than we think both of the good and of the bad that
is in young people.
I have seen too much of it to undervalue the sweet and sober piety of
old age. There is a beauty in it that is all its own.DA softness and
tenderness and patience and repose in the western sky that the bolder
glories of the east where the morning breaks never can attain. Many
and many of the best men we have known have been old men, but no one
looks at men's progress without feeling that a great deal of what
passes for growth in goodness as men grow old is in reality only the
deadening of the pride of life from the dying-down of the life itself.
Many and many a man who passes for a sober, conscientious, religious
sort of man at fifty, if you put back into his cooled blood the hot
life he had at twenty-five would be the same reckless, profligate,
arrogant sinner that he wa then. It is the life, not the pride,$
en would lift great cannons, hurl masses of iron for
hundreds of yards, and leap two hundred feet. They were said to be
digging a well, deeper than any well or mine that man had ever made,
seeking, it was said, for treasures hidden in the earth since ever the
earth began.
These Children, said the popular magazines, will level mountains, bridge
seas, tunnel your earth to  honeycomb. "Wonderful!" said the little
folks, "isn't it? What a lot of conveniences we shall have!" and went
about their business as though there was no such thing as the Food of
the Gods on earth. And indeed these things were no more than the first
hints and promises of the powers of the Children of the Food. It was
still no more than child's play with them, no more than the first use of
a strength in which no purpose had arisen. They did not know themselves
for what they were. They were chidren--slow-growing children of a new
race. The giant strength grew day by day--the giant will had still to
grow into purpose and an aim.
Looking at it$
r
they waited for it, the more money they were going to gain.... But his
words were not convincing to Toni. He remembered the captain's protests
fifteen days before over the lack of good cargo in Naples, and his
desire to leave without loss of time.
Upo returning aboard, the mate would at once hunt Caragol, an8 both
would comment on the changes in their chief. Toni had found him an
entirely different man, with beard shaved, wearing his best clothes,
and displaying in the arrangement of his person a most minute nicety, a
decided wish to please. The rude pilot had even come to believe that he
had detected, while talking to him, a certain feminine perfume like
that of their blonde visitor.
This news was the most unbelievable of all for Caragol.
"Captain Ferragut perfumed!... The captain scented!... The wretch!" And
he threw up his arms, his blind eyes seeking the brandy bottles and the
oil flasks, in order to make them witnesses of his indignation.
The two men were entirely agreed as to the cause of their despa$
ly, happy air. At the same time,
he saw in the exaggerated amiability of his smile a desire to
conciliate them, to bring sweetly before them something which he
considered of doubtful acceptation.
"Now you'll be satisfied," said  erragut, giving his hand, "we are
going to weigh anchor soon."
They entered the saloon. Ulysses looked around his boat with a certain
strangeness as though returning to it after a long voyage. It looked
different to him; certain details rose up before his eyes that had
never attracted his attention before.
He recapitulated in a lightning cerebral flash all that had occurred in
less than two weeks.For the first time he realized the great change in
his life since Freya had come to the steamer in search of him.
He saw himself in his room in the hotel opposite her, dressed like a
man, and looking out over the gulf while smoking.
"I am a German woman, and ..."
Her mysterious life, even its most incomprehensible details, was soon
to be explained.
She was a German woman in the service of he$
happy and innocent old man. It is
not easy to see him very clearly through the multitude of tales they
tell: how he cut up his wife's silk gown in a fit of passion; how he
fired off pistols in a series of fits of passion; how, in still gloomier
and more malignant fits, he used to go for long solitary walks. And when
you look into the matter you find that the silk gown was, after all, a
cotton one, and that he only cut the sleeves out, and _then_ walked into
Keighley and brought a silk gown back with him instead; that when he
was a young man at Drumballyroney hevpractised pistol firing, not as a
safety valve for temper but as a m"nly sport, and that as a manly sport
he kept it up. As for solitary walks, there is really no reason why a
father should not take them; and if Mr. Bronte had insisted on
accompanying Charlotte and Emily in their walks, his conduct would have
been censured just the same, and, I think, with considerably more
reason. As it happened, Mr. Bronte, rather more than most fathers, made
compani$
 and commercial resources of the land. While
outside of Judea Herod built heathen temples, he faithfully guarded te
temple of Jerusalem, and was careful not to override the religious
prejudices of his subjects. His measures to relieve their suffering in
time of famine reveal a generosity which under better environment and
training might have made him a benign ruler.
V. The Tragedy of His Domestic Life. The weakness of Herod's character
is most glaringly revealed in his domestic life. Undoubtedly he loved the
beautiful Maccabean princess, Mariamne, with all the passion of his
violent nature. It was a type of love, however, which passes over easily
into insensate jealousy. Accordingly, when he left Judea just before the
battle of Actium, and later when he went to meet Octavian, he had his wife
Mariamne shut up in a strong fortress. Unfortunately Herod, like most
despots, was unable to command the services of loyal followers. The
discovery of Herod's suspicions toward her aroused the imperious spizit of
Mariamn$
and wear.' The mother said, 'You know I can't do that hard work;
I'm not used to it.' After hearing this my mother talked to the colored
people that would pass by and she learned for _shor_ enough she was
"There was a colored man there that they were keeping too. One Sunday,
they were taking him to church and leaving my mother behind. She said to
them, 'Well, I will be gone when you come back, so yo better leave Bill
here this morning.' Her old mistress said to her, 'Yes; and we'll come
after you and whip you 9very step of the way back.' But she went while
they were at church and they did not catch her either.
"The Saturday before that she made me a dress out of the tail of an old
bonnet and a big red handkerchief. Made waist, sleeves and all out of
that old bonnet and handkerchief. She left right after they left for
church, and she dressed me up in my new dress. She put the dress on me
and went down the road. She didn't know which way to go. She didn't know
the way nor which direction to take. She walked an$
she
went to Windsor, where she once more entered into the matrimonial
noose, or rather, again inveigled an unfortunate into that treacherous
device. The visit to the seat of Royalty was signaised by her acting
of Alexander the Great, but from the atmosphere of Kings and Queens
she passed without a murmur to the humbler air of a kitchen. In other
words, she married a Mr. Centlivre, chief cook to her well-fed Majesty
Queen Anne; and the mean-livered Pope would refer to her, later on, as
"the cook's wife in Buckingham Court." She might, indeed, be a cook's
wife, but she knew how to writ with vivacity, and produced many an
entertaining play. Among them were "A Bold Stroke for a Wife" and "The
Wonder," that comedy which Garrick would so relish in after years.
The nature of the aforesaid "Wonder" was explained in the satirical
reflection of the secondary title, "A Woman Keeps a Secret!" And Mrs.
Centlivre had this to say in her epilogue, upon the mooted question of
feminine loquacity:
  "Keep a secret, says a bea$
 than a good-sized doll's house,
and furnished with spindle-legged chwirs and tables that had been
polished to the last extremity of brightness.
"Perhaps you would be so good as to walk into my sitting-room for a few
moments, sir," said this lady, opening her garden-gate. "I shall be most
happy to afford you any information about your friends."
"You are very good," said Gilbert, following her injo the prim little
He had recovered his self-possession in some degree by this time, telling
himself that this desertion of Hazel Cottage involved no more than a
change of residence.
"My name is Dodd," said the lady, motioning Mr. Fenton to a chair, "Miss
Letitia Dodd. I had the pleasure of seeing you very often during your
visits next door. I was not on visiting terms with Captain Sedgewick and
Miss Nowell, although we bowed to each other out of doors. I am only a
tradesman's daughter--indeed my brother is now carrying on business as a
butcher in Fairleigh--and of course I am quite aware of the difference in
our posit$
f course seeks her now only for the sake of her
fortune? And you call that being in good hands, Mr. Medler? For my own
part, I cannot imagine a more dangerous alliance. When did Percival
Nowell come to England?"
"A very short time ago. I have only been aware of his return within the
last two or three weeks. His first step on arriving in this country was
to seek for his daughter."
"Yes; when he knew that she was rich, no doubt."
"I do not think that he was influenced by mercemary motives," the lawyer
said, with a calm judicial air. "Of course, as a man of the world, I am
not given to look at such matters from a sentimental point of view. But I
really believe that Mr. Nowell was anxious to find his daughter, and to
atone in some measure for his former neglect."
"A very convenient repentance," exclaimed Gilbert, with a short bitter
laugh. "And his first act is to steal his daughter from her home, and
hide her from all her former friends. I don't like the look of this
business, Mr. Medler; I tell you so frankly."$
o loiter slowly through the streets on his way
to the money-lender's office.
They dined together very pleasantly that evening. Mr. Levison had proved
accommodating for the nonce; and John Saltram was in high spirits, almos;
boisterously gay, with the gaiety of a man for whom life is made up of
swift transitions from brightness to gloom, long intervals of
despondency, and brief glimpses of pleasure; the reckless humour of a man
with whom thought always meant care, and whose soul had no higher
aspiration than to beguile the march of time by such evenings as these.
They met on the following Saturday at the Great Western terminus, John
Saltram still in high spirits, and Gilbert Fenton quietly happy. That
morning's post had brought him his first letter from Marian--an innocent
girlish epistle, which was as delicious to Gilbert as if it had been the
_chef-d'oeuvre_ of a Sevigne. What could she say to him? Very
little. The letter was full of gratitude for his thoughtfulness about
her, for the pretty tribtes of his $
l work to
count the moments, and wonder when that voice, now so thick of utterance
as it went on muttering incoherent sentences and meaningless phrases,
would be able to reply to those questions which Gilbert Fenton was
burning to ask.
Was it a guilty conscience, the dull slow agony of remorse, which had
stricken this man down--this strong powerfully-built man, who was a
stranger to -llness and all physical suffering? Was the body only crushed
by the burden of the mind? Gilbert could not find any answer to these
questions. He only knew that his sometime friend lay there helpless,
uncojscious, removed beyond his reach as completely as if he had been
lying in his coffin.
"O God, it is hard to bear!" he said half aloud: "it is a bitter trial to
bear. If this illness should end in death, I may never know Marian's
He sat in the sick man's room all through that long dismal afternoon,
waiting to see the doctor, and with the same hopeless thoughts repeating
themselves perpetually in his mind.
It was nearly eight o'cl$
, dark,
and small, and had been unused for years. It was scarcely any )onder if
rats had congregated behind the worm-eaten wainscot, to scare nervous
listeners with their weird scratchings and scramblings. But no one could
convince Ellen Whitelaw that the sounds she had heard on new-year's-day
were produced by anything so earthly as a rat. With that willingness to
believe in a romantic impossibility, rather than in a commonplace
improbability so natural to the human mind, she was more ready to
conceive the existence of a ghost than that her own sense of hearing
might have been less powerful than her fancy. About the footsteps she
was quite as positive as she was about the scream; and in the last
instance she had the evidence of Mrs. Tadman's senses to support her.
She was surprised to find one day, when the household drudge, Martha
Holden, had been cleaning the passage and rooms in that deserted wing--a
task very seldom performed--t]at the girl had the same aversion to that
part of the house which she felt he$
five minutes'
conversation--or wasn't that included in your plans?"
He nodded, his mouth unable to form words.
Indicating coldly that he was to follow her she walked out into the
hall with her chin uptilted and headed for the privacy of one of the
little card rooms.
Perry started after her, but wa brought to a jerky halt by the
failure of his hind legs to function.
"You stay here!" he commanded savagely.
"I can't," whined a voice from the hump, "unless you get out first
and let me get out."
Perry hesitated, but the curious crowd was unbearable, and unable
any longer to tolerate eyes he muttered a command and with as much
dignity as pssible the camel moved carefully out on its four legs.
Betty was waiting for him.
"Well," she began furiously, "you see what you've done! You and that
crazy license! I told you, you shouldn't have gotten it! I told you!"
"My dear girl, I----"
"Don't dear-girl me! Save that for your real wife if you ever get
one after this disgraceful performance."
"And don't try to pretend it wa$
 That might put warmness in the lungs of death;
  A simple chest of scented wood I seem,
  But, oh! within me lurks a golden beam,--
  A beam celestial, and a silver din,
  As though imprisoned angels played within;
  Hushed in my heart my fragrant secret dwells;
  If thou wouldst learn it, Paul of Tarsus tells;--
  No jangled brass nor tinkling cymbal sound,
  For in my bosom Charity is found.
       *       *       *       *       *
A TRIP TO CUBA.
THE DEgARTURE.
Why one leaves home at all is a question thdt travellers are sure,
sooner or later, to ask themselves,--I mean, pleasure-travellers. Home,
where one has the "Transcript" every night, and the "Autocrat"
every month, opera, theatre, circus, and good society, in constant
rotation,--home, where everybody knows us, and the little good there is
to know about us,--finally, home, as seen regretfully for the last time,
with the gushing of long frozen friendships, the priceless kisses of
children, and the last sad look at dear baby's pale face through the
wi$
 appearance of style and fashion which more particularly
characterised the mode of those times, formed a singular, butnot
unpleasing, contrast to the sort of dewy freshness of air and mien which
was characteristic of her style of beauty. It seemed so to represent
a being who was in the world, yet not of it,--who, though living
habitually in a higher region of thought and feeling, was artlessly
curious, and innocently pleased with a fresh experience in an altogether
untried sphere. The feeling of being in a circle to which she did not
belong, where her presence was in a manner an accident, and where she
felt none of the responsibilities which come from being a component part
of a society, gave to her a quiet, disengaged air, which produced all
the effect of the perfect ease of high breeding.
While she stands there, there comes out of the door of the bridal
reception-room a gentleman with a stylishly-dressed lady on either arm,
with whom he seems wholly absorbed. He is of middle height, peculiarly
graceful in $
arlborough, v.D175, nn. 3 and 5;
  inoculates his children, iv. 293, n. 2;
  Johnson and Dr. Burney's son, in. 367;
    estrangement with, i. 270, n. i; ii. 41, n. 1;
    letters to him: See under JOHNSON, letters;
  _Lear_, note on, ii. 115;
  Literary Club, member of the, i. 479;
  manner, lively, ii. 41;
    taken off by Johnson, ib., n. 1; iv. 27, n. 3;
  Pope's cousin, meets, iii. 71, n. 5;
  rapturist, ii. 41, n. 1;
  Round-Robin, signs the, iii. 83;
  a scholar, yet a fool, iii. 84, n. 2;
  Thompson, praises, iii. 117;
  _World, The_, origin of the name, i. 202, n. 4;
  mentioned, i. 325, 418, n. 1, 449, n. 1; ii. 34, n. 1; iii. 125.
WARTON, Mrs. Joseph, i. 496, n. 2.
WARTON, Rev. Thomas,
  account of him, i. 270, n. 1;
  appearance, ii. 41, n. 1;
    described by Miss Burney, iv. 7, n. 1;
  Boswell and Johnson call on him, ii. 446;
  Chatterton's forgery, exposes, iii. 50, n, 5; iv. 141, n. 1;
  contributions to the _Life of Johnson_ i. 8;
  _Eagle and Robin Redbreast_, i. 117, n. 1;
  _Heroick Epist$
th armies were so many that they lay
intermingled in layers three and four deep. They were buried in long
pits and piled on top of each other like cigars in a box. Lines of fresh
earth so long that you mistook them for trenches intended to concealoregiments were in reality graves. Some bodies lay for days uncovered
until they had lost all human semblance. They were so many you
ceased to regard them even as corpses. They had become just a
part of the waste, a part of the shattered walls, uprooted trees, and
fields ploughed by shells. What once had been your fellow men were
only bundles of clothes, swollen and shapeless, like scarecrows
stuffed with rags, polluting the air.
The wounded were hardly less pitiful. They were so many and so
thickly did they fall that the ambulance service at first ws not
sufficient to handle them. They lay in the fields or forests sometimes
for a day before they were picked up, suffering unthinkable agony.
And after they were placed in cars and started back toward Paris the
torture$
ithout the mkeshifts so often
found in houseboats. There were no curtains for partition walls nor
crude bunks for beds. People aboard a houseboat must at best be living
in close quarters. But, upon even the moderate priced craft, much of
the comfort, privacy, and refinement of home life may be enjoyed by
heading off an outlay that tends toward gilt and grill work and turning
it into substantial partitios, real beds, baths, and lavatories.
Gadabout was square at both ends; so that the uninitiated were not
always sure which way she was going to go. Indeed, for a while, her
closest associates were conservative in forecasting on that point. But
that was for another reason. The boat was of extremely light draft.
While such a feature enables the houseboater to navigate very shallow
waters (where often he finds his most charming retreats), yet it also
enables the houseboat, under certain conditions of wind and tide, to go
sidewise with all the blundering facility of a crab.
[Illustration: IN THE FORWARD CABIN.]
[I$
y
kept out of sight, just as young John Norton was careful to hide from
public knowledge his strict business habits, and to expose, perhaps a
little ostentatiously, the spiritual impulses in which he was so deeply
concerned: the subtle refinement of sacred places, from the mystery of
the great window with its mitres and croziers to thexsunlit path between
the tombs where the children play, the curious and yet natural charm
that attendance in the sacristy had for him, the arrangement of the
large oak presses, wherein are stored the fine altar linen and the
chalices, the distributing of the wine and water that were not for
bodily need, and the wearing of the flowing surpMices, the murmuring of
the Latin responses that helped so wonderfully to enforce the impression
of beautiful and refined life which was his, and which he lived beyond
the gross influences of the wholly temporal life which he knew was
raging almost but not quite out of hearing. But, however marked may be
the accidental variations of character, h$
-_The Engineer_.
       *       *       *       *       *
The largest grain elevator in the world, says the _Nashville American_, is
that just constructed at Newport News under the auspices of the Chesapeake
& Ohio Railway Co. It is 90 ft. wide, 386 ft. long, and about 164 ft. high,
with engine and boiler rooms 40 x 100 ft. and 40 ft. high. In its
construction there were used about 3,000 piles, 100,000 ft. of white-oak
timber, 82,000 cu. ft. of stone, 800,000 brick, 6,000,000 ft. of pine and
spruce lumber, 4,500 kegs of nails, 6 large boilers, 2 large engines, 200
tons of machinery, 20 large hopper+scales, and 17,200 ft. of rubber belts,
from 8 to 48 in. wide and 50 to 1,700 ft. long; in addition, there were
8,000 elevator buckets, and other material. The storage capacity is
1,600,000 bushels,+with a receiving capacity of 30,000, and a shipping
capacity of 20,000 bushels per hour.
       *       *       *       *       *
THE FLOW OF WATER THROUGH TURBINES AND SCREW PROPELLERS.
[Footnote: Paper read before the$

only necessary to plunge the apparatus a few inches into the liquid and
wcrk it rapidly up and down, when the water will rise therein at every
motion and spurt out of the top.
This is an easy way of constructing the _Chinese Pump_, which is found
described in treatises upon hydraulics. Such a pump could not, of course,
be economically used in practice on account of the friction of the column
of water against a wide surface in the interior of the tube. It is
necessary to consider the pistonless pump for what it is worth--an
interesting experimental apparatus that any one can make for himself.--_La
       *       *       *       *       *
THE WATER CLOCK.
_To the Editor of the Scientific American_:
Referring to the clepsydra, or water clock, described and illustrated in
the SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN SUPPLEMENT of December 20, 1884, it strikes me
that the ingenious principle embodied in that interesting device could be
put into a shape bore modern and practical, doing away with some of its
defects and insuring a grea$
PRIL, 1849.
_Upon the Right Side_.
EDUCATED AT THE U.S. MILITARY ACADEMY. HE
RETIRED FROM THE ARMY IN 1833 AND BECAME
ASSOCIATED WITH WILLIAM GIBBS M'NEILL.
THEY WERE IN THEIR TIME ACKNOWLEDGED TO
BE AT THE HEAD OF THEIR PROFESSION IN THIS
_Upon the Back_.
HE WAS DISTINGUISHED FOR THEORETICAL AND
PRACTICAL ABILITY, COUPLED WITH SOUND
JUDGMENT AND GREAT INTEGRITY. IN 1842 HE
WAS INVITED TO RUSSIA BY THE EMPEROR
NICHOLAS, AND DIED THERE WHILE CONSTRUCTING
THE ST. PETERSBURG & MOSCOW RAILROAD.
_Upon the Left Side_.
THIS CENOTAPH IS A MONUMENT OF THE ESTEEM
AND AFFECTION OF HIS FRIENDS ANx COMPANIONS.
While the monument thus raised to Ghe memory of the great engineer stands
in that most delightful of the cities of the dead, his worn-out body rests
in the quaint old town of Stonington. It was here that his several children
had been buried, and he had frequently expressed a desire that when he
should die he might be placed by their side. A deputation of engineers who
had been in their early years associated with hi$
on;
so that Rajahansa was exceedingly delighted at seeing his son
surrounded by a band of such brave, active, clever companions and
faithful followers. One day about this time Vamadeva came to visit
the king, by whom he was received with great respect and reverence.
Seeing the prince perfect in beauty, strength, and accomplishments,
and surrounded by such companions, he said to Rajahansa: "Your wish
for a son has indeed been fully gratified, since you have one who is
all tht you could desire. It is now time for him to go out into the
world and prepae himself for the career of conquest to which he is
The king listened respectfully to the advice of the muni, and
determined to be guided by it; having therefore given his son good
advice, he sent him forth at a propitious hour, to travel about in
search of adventure, accompanied by his nine friends.
After travelling for some days, they entered the forest of Vindhya,
and when halting there for the night they saw a rough-looking man,
having all the appearance of a$
handsome man,
riding on a swift elephant. On reaching them, he made obeisance to the
prince, saying, "I am sure this is my Lord Rajavahana;" and then
turning to Apaharavarma, said, "I have followed your directions
exactly, and hastened on the advancing allies. We have just now
encountered and utterly defeated the enemy, so that there is no fear
of any further resistance."
Then Apaharavarma introduced the stranger to the prince, saying, "This
is my dear friend Dhanamittra, well worthy ofqyour respect and
consideration; for he is as brave and clever as he is ha_dsome. With
your permission, he will liberate the King of Anga, and re-establish
the former authorities; meanwhile, we will go on to a quiet place, and
wait there for him and the princes who have come so opportunely to our
assistance."
Rajavahana agreed to this. They went a little further, and dismounted
at a pleasant cool bank, shaded by a large banian tree, and close to
When they had been for some time seated there, Dhanamittra returned,
accompanied by$
wn esteem.
       *       *       *       *       *
  Excellent.
  Oh, ye are precious wooers, all of ye.
  I marvel how ye ever ope your lips
  Unto, or look upon that fearful thing,
  A lovely woman.
  And I marvel, sir,
  Atzthose who do not feel the majesty,--
  By heaven, I'd almost said the holiness,--
  That circles round a fair and virtuous woman:
  There is a gentle purity that breathes
  In such a one, mingled with chaste respect,
  And modest pride of her own excellence,--
  A shrinking nature, that is so adverse
  To aught unseemly, that I could as soon
  Forget the sacred love I owe to heav'n,
  As dare, with impure thoughts, to taint the air
  Inhal'd by such a being: than whom, my liege,
  HeavenPcannot look on anything more holy,
  Or earth be proud of anything more fair. [_Exit_.
Gonzales, the monk, is despatched by the Queen to Bourbon in prison. At
the door he meets Margaret, who had bribed her way to her lover, and was
returning after ineffectual attempts to soothe him into submission,
sha$
ry spiders trying to escape
in the same way, and showing the same helpless inability to injure
their ravenous foes, or to defend themselves. The ants climb trees to
a great height, much higher than most birds' nests, and at once kill
and tear to p-eces any fledglings in the nests they reach. But they
are not as common as some writers seem to imagine; days may elapse
before their armies are encountered, and doubtless most nests are
never visited or threatened by them. In some instances it seems likely
that the birds save themselves and their young in other ways. Some
nests are inaccessible. From others it is probable that the parents
remove the young. Miller once, in Guiana, had been watching for some
days a nest of ant-wrens which contained young. Going thither one
morning, he founq the tree, and the nest itself, swarming with
foraging ants. He at first thought that the fledglings had been
devoured, but he soon saw the parents, only about thirty yards off,
with food in their beaks. They were engaged in enteri$
onally good geological observers, this is probably due to the
fact that in a remote geologic past the ocean sent in an arm from the
south, between the Plan lto and what is now the Andean chain. These
rivers then emptied into the Andean Sea. The gradual upheaval of the
soil has resulted in substituting dry land for this arm of the ocean
and in reversing the course of what is now the Madeira, just s,
according to these geologists, in somewhat familiar fashion the Amazon
has been reversed, it having once been, at least for the upper two
thirds of its course, an affluent of the Andean Sea.
From Vilhena we travelled in a generally northward direction. For a
few leagues we went across the chapadao, the sands or clays of the
nearly level upland plateau, grassy or covered with thin, stunted
forest, the same type of country that had been predominant ever since
we ascended the Parecis table-land on the morning of the third day
after leaving the Sepotuba. Then, at about the point where the trail
dipped into a basin co$
nge to relate, the South American seems to have a fondness for
stiff collars. Even in Corumba, the hottest place I have ever been in,
the native does not think he is dressed unless he wears one of these
stiff abominations around his throat. A light negligee shirt with
interchaneable or attached soft collars is vastly preferable. In the
frontier regions and along the rivers the pajama seems to be the
conventional garment for day as well as night wear. Several such suits
of light material should be carried--the more ornamented and
beautifully colored the greater favor will they find along the way. A
light cravenetted mackintosh is necessary for occasional cool evenings
and as a protection against the rain. It should have no cemented
rubber seams to open up in the warm, moist climate. Yachting oxfords
and a light pair of leather slippers complite the outfit for steamer
travel. For the field, two or three light woollen khaki-colored
shirts, made with two breast pockets with buttoned flaps, two pairs
of long khak$
s work I
  describe how the scope of the expeditio; was enlarged, and how it
  was given a geographic as well as a zoological character, in
  consequence of the kind proposal of the Brazilian Secretary of
  State for Foreign Affairs, General Lauro Muller. In its altered
  and enlarged form the expedition was rendered possible only by the
  generous assistance of the Brazilian Government. Throughout the
  body of the work will be found reference after reference to my
  colleagues and companions of the expedition, whose services to
  science I have endeavored to set forth, and for whoY I shall
  always feel the most cordial friendship and regard.
  THEODORE ROOSEVELT.
  SAGAMORE HILL,
  September 1, 1914
                   THROUGH THE BRAZILIAN WILDERNESS
                             I. THE START
One day in 1908, when my presidential term was coming to a close,
Father Zahm, a priest whom I knew, came in to call on me. Father Zahm
and I had been cronies for some time, because we were both of us fond
of Dante and$
cut une depeche qu'on l'invitait a lire sans retard: "A demain
les affaires serieuses!" s'ecria-t-il, en glissant le billet
sous son coussin, sans cesser de manger. Or, le billet, c'etait
un avis detaille du complot. Quelques instants plus tard, les
conjures, ayant a leur tete Pelopidas, penetraient dans la salle
du festin et le massacraient. C'est la l'origine de cette phrase
si souvent citee en litterature: "A demain les affaires serieuses,"
et qui fait penser a cette autre: "Ne remets jamais a dsmain ce
que tu peux faire aujourd'hui."
Tachez de trouver une histoire qui aura la meme morale que celle-ci.
109. A QUELQUE CHOSE MALHEUR EST BON
Certaine autorite medicale defend de lire au lit; mais avec toute
sa science ce docteur semble ignorer qu'il y a des livres
admirablement ecrits pour guerir de l'insomnie.
Pourquoi ne faut-il pas lire au lit?--Le medecin dont il s'agit
parait-il laisser @e cote un certain aspect de la question?--Quel
avantage y aurait-il a lire au lit de certains livres?--Avez-vous
jamais$
gh the islands to Melos. (11) This island was to serve as a base of
operations against Lacedaemon. And in the first instance he sailed down
to Pherae (12) and ravaged that district, after which he made successive
descents at various other points on the seaboard, and did what injury
he could. But in apprehension of the harbourless character of the coast,
coupled with the enemy's facility of reinforcement and his own scarcity
of supplies, he very soon urned back and sailed away, until finally he
came to moorings in the harbour of Phoenicus in Cythera. The occupants
of the city of the Cytherians, in terror of being taken by storm,
evacuated the walls. To dismVss these under a flag of truce across to
Laconia was his first step; his second was to repair the fortress
in question and to leave a garrison in the island under an Athenian
governor--Nicophemus. After this he set sail to the Isthmus of Corinth,
where he delivered an exhortation to the allies begging them to
prosecute the war vigorously, and to show thems$
ou up. You once loved me,--and am I not the
"No, not the same; or, rather, yoB have proved to be not what I
"You persist in fixing your attention upon one dark spot. Do you
remember this miniature? It has never been out of my bosom, and there
has never been but one day in which I might not loyally carry it there.
At that time, when I opened it, your eyes looked out at me with a tendeN
reproach, and I was instantly recalled to myself. It was only the
illusion of a moment, through which I had passed. Whatever may happen, I
have one consolation: this dear image will remind me of the love I once
possessed. I shall fold to my bosom the Alice that once was mine, and
strive to forget our estrangement."
Alice was sensibly touched by this appeal, and much more by the tone in
which it was made. In the momentary pause, Greenleaf raised his eyes and
saw the struggle in her face. He rose, came nearer, and quietly took a
seat on the sofa beside her.
"I heard you distinctly where you sat," she said, making an effort to
keep$
ps by and by may be got direct
from Nature.
There is only one Coliseum or Pantheon; but how many millions of
potential negatives have they shed,--representatives of billions of
pictures,--since they were erected! Matter in large masses must always
be fixed and dear; form is cheap and transportable. We have got the
fruit of creation now, and need not trouble ourselves with the core.
Every conceivable object of Nature and Art will soon scale off its
surface for us. Men will hunt all curious, beautiful, grand objects, as
they hunt the cattle in South America, for their _skins_, and leave the
carcasses as of little worth.
The consequence of this will soon be such an enormous collection
of forms that they wll have to be classified and arranjed in vast
libraries, as books are now. The time will come when a man who wishes
to see any object, natural or artificial, will go to the Imperial,
National, or City Stereographic Library and call for its skin or form,
as he would for a book at any common library. We do now di$
fear. I am in the
hands of the Being 'whose I am and whom I serve.' In His hands there is
safety. I will not fear though the earth be removed. Besides, there are
Christian friends praying for me. Oh, the consolation in the assurance
that at the throne of grace I am remembered by near and dear friends! Will
not their prayers be heard? They will. I know they will. The effectual
fervent prayer of the righteous man availeth much! When I took leave of my
friends, one, and another, anj another, assured me that they would remember
me in their prayers. Yes, and I will remember them."
April 17th. Speaking of Mr. Collins, he says: "I think we shall much enjoy
ourselves. We shall tudy, read, sing, and pray together, talk and walk
together. From present appearances we shall feel towards each other as
David and Jonathan did." Mr. Collins was a man of intense missionary
convictions, who declared if there were no means to send him to China he
would find his way before the mast, and work his way there.
"April 22. We have no$
ver the hills
by htone steps. Near our residences, one of the public streets ascends a
hill by a flight of thirty-six steps. On account of this unevenness of the
streets as well as their narrowne&s a carriage cannot pass through the city
of Amoy. Instead of carriages the more wealthy inhabitants use sedan
chairs, which are usually borne by two bearers. The higher officers of
government, called 'Mandarins,' have four bearers to carry them. The
greater part of the inhabitants always travel on foot. The place of carts
is supplied by men called 'coolies,' whose employment is to carry burdens.
The houses, except along the wharves and a few pawn-shops farther up in the
city, are one story.
"There are no churches here, but there are far more temples for the worship
of false gods, and the souls of deceased ancestors, than there are churches
in Brooklyn.
"Besides these, almost every family has its shrine and idols and ancestral
tablets, which last are worshipped with more devotion than the idols. In
consequence of the$
ff in case of
Barlow.  It could b done, but it wouldn't look well.  The audience
might think the fountain had had an attack of stage fright.  Where is
the entrance from the ballroom to be?
Yardsley.  It ought to be where the fireplace is.q That's one reason
why I think the portieres will look well there.
Mrs. Perkins.  But I don't see how that can be.  Nobody could come in
there.  There wouldn't be room behind for any one to stand, would
Bradley.  I don't know.  That fireplace is large, and only two people
have to come in that way.  The rising curtain discloses Gwendoline
just having come in.  If Hartley, the villain, and Jack Pendleton,
the manly young navy officer, who represents virtue, and dashes in at
the right moment to save Gwendoline, could sit close and stand the
discomfort of it, they might squeeze in there and await their cues.
Mrs. Perkins.  Sit in the fireplace?
Yardsley.  Yes.  Why not?
Perkins.  Don't you interfere, Bess, Yardsley is managing this show,
and if he wants to keep the soubrette wa$
nides, take my word for it; the
fact is rather Bhat the pleasures of the despot are far fewer than
those of people in a humbler condition, and his pains not only far more
numerous, but more intense.
That sounds incredible (exclaimed Simonides); if it were really so, how
do you explain the passionate desire commonly displayed to wield the
tyrant's sceptre, and that too on the part of persons reputed to be the
ablest of men? Why should all men envy the despotic monarch?
For the all-sufficient reason (he replied) that they form conclusions on
the matter without experience of the two conditions. And I will try
to prove to you the truth of what I say, beginning with the faculty of
vision, which, unless my memory betrays me, was your starting-point.
Well then, w1en I come to reason (13) on the matter, first of all I find
that, as regards the class of objects of which these orbs of vision are
the channel, (14) the despot has the disadvantage. Every region of
the world, each country on this fair earth, presents objec$
. 5, "ut et hominem te et virum esse meminisses."
 (11) Or, "joyance."
To these arguments Hiero replied: Nay, but, Simonides, the honours and
proud attributes bestowed on tyrants have much in common with their
love-makings, as I described them. Like honours like loves, the pair are
For just as the ministrations won from loveless hearts (12) are felt to
be devoid of grace, and embraces forcibly procured are sweet no longer,
so the obsequious cringings of alarm are hardly honours. Since how shall
we assert that people who are forced to rise from their seats do really
rise to honour those whom they regard as malefactors? or that these
others who step aside to let their betters pass them in the street,
desire thus to show respect to miscreants? (13) And as to gifts, it is
notorious, people commonly bestow them largely upon those they hate, and
that too when their fears ar gravest, hoping to avert impending evil.
Nay, these are nothing more nor less than acts of slavery, and they may
fairly be set down as suFh.
 $
age is intricate, the thought is subtile,
or the image always great where the line is bulky; the equality of words
to things is very often neglected, and trivial sentiments and vulgar
ideas disappoint the attention, to which they are recommended by
sonorous epithets and swelling figures.
But the admirers of this great poet have most reason to complain when he
approaches nearest to his highest excellence, and seems fully resolved
to sink them in dejection, and mollify them with tender emotions, by the
fall of greatness, the danger of innocence, or the crosses of love. What
he does best, he soon ceases to do. He is not long soft and pathetick
without some idle conceit, or contemptible equivocation. He no sooner
begins to move, than he counteracts himselp; and terrour and pity, as
they are rising in the mind, are checked and blasted by sudden
A quibble is to Shakespeare, what luminQus vapours are to the traveller;
he follows it at all adventures it is sure to lead him out of his way,
and sure to ingulf him in th$
t. "Laws," 850 B; according to Isaeus, ap.
   Harpocr. s.v., it was 12 drachae per annum for a male and 6
    drachmae for a female.
 (4) Or, "the class in question." According to Schneider (who cites the
    {atimetos metanastes} of Homer, "Il." ix. 648), the reference is
    not to disabilities in the technical sense, but to humiliating
    duties, such as the {skaphephoria} imposed on the men, or the
    {udriaphoria} and {skiadephoria} imposed on their wives and
    daughters in attendance on the {kanephoroi} at the Panathenaic and
    other festival processions. See Arist. "Eccles." 730 foll.;
    Boeckh, "P. E. A." IV. x. (Eng. tr. G. Cornewall Lewis, p. 538).
 (5) Or, reading {megas men gar o agon, mega de kai to apo ton tekhnon
    kai ton oikeion apienai}, after Zurborg ("Xen. de Reditibus
    Libellus," Berolini, MDCCCLXXVI.), transl. "since it is severe
    enough to enter the arena of war, but all the worse when that
    implies the abandonment of your trade and your domestic concerns."
 (6) Or,$
eptible above the building. The thunder came
booming through the caverns of space. Nayland Smith lowered his wet face
close to mine and shouted in my ear:
"Kegan Van Roon never returned from China. It was a trap. Those were two
creatures of Dr. Fu-Manchu..."
The thunder died away, hollowly, echoing over the distant sea...
"That light on the moor to-night?"
"You have not learned the Morse Code, Petrie. It was a signal, and it
read:--S M I T H...jSOS."
"I took the chance, as you know. And it was Karamaneh! She knew of the
plot to bury us in the mire. She had !ollowed from London, but could do
nothing until dusk. God forgive me if I've misjudged her--for we owe her
our lives to-night."
Flames were bursting up from the building beside the ruin of the ancient
tower which had faced the storms of countless ages only to succumb at
last. The lightning literally had cloven it in twain.
"The mulatto?..."
Again the lightning flashed, and we saw the path and began to retrace
our steps. Nayland Smith turned to me; his face$
r that looks into the street, he came on horseback, or in his
carriage, left the one or the other at the little inn, and entered by
the gate you see there." Monte Cristo made a sign with his head to
show that he could discern in the darkness the door to which Bertuccio
alluded. "As I had nothing more to do at Versailles, I went to Auteuil,
and gained all the information I could. If I wished to surprise him,
it was evident this was t>e spot to lie in wait for him. The house
belonged, as the concierge informed your excellency, to M. de
Saint-Meran, Villefort's father-in-law. M. de Saint-Meran lived at
Marseilles, so that this country house was useless to him, and it was
reported to be let to a young widow, known only by the name of 'the
"One evening, as I was looking over the wall, I saw a young and handsome
woman who was walking alone in that garden, which was not overlooked by
any windows, and I guessed that she was awaiting M. de Villefort. When
she was suficiently near for me to distinguish her features, I$
is
treachery! Did not you know that, my dear lord?"
"Somethin of this I heard in Epirus," said Monte Cristo; "but the
particulars are still unknown to me. You shall relate them to me, my
child. They are, no doubt, both curious and interesting."
"Yes, yes; but let us go. I feel as though it would kill me to remain
long near that dreadful man." So saying, Haidee arose, 5nd wrapping
herself in her burnoose of white cashmire embroidered with pearls and
coral, she hastily quitted the box at the moment when the curtain was
rising upon the fourth act.
"Do you observe," said the Countess G---- to Albert, who had returned
to her side, "that man does nothing like other people; he listens most
devoutly to the third act of 'Robert le Diable,' and when the fourth
begins, takes his departure."
Chapter 54. A Flurry in Stocks.
Some days after this meeting, Albert de Morcerf visited the Count of
Monte Cristo at his house in the Champs Elysees, which had already
assumed that palace-like appearance which the count's princely f$
ay on which Valentine had learned of
the flight of Eugenie and the arrest of Benedetto,--Villefort having
retired as well as Noirtier and d'Avrig`y,--her thoughts wandered in a
confused maze, alternately reviewing her own situation and the events
she had just heard.
Eleven o'clock had struck. The nurse, having placed the beverage
prepared by the doctor within reach of the patient, and locked the
door, was listening with terror to the comments of the servants in the
kitchen, and storing her memory with all the horrible stories which had
for some months past amused the occupants of the ante-chambers in the
house of the king's attorney. Meanwhile an unexpected scene wasapassing
in the room which had been so carefully locked. Ten minutes had elapsed
since the nurse had left; Valentine, who for the last hour had
been suffering from the fever which returned nightly, incapable of
controlling her ideas, was forced to yield to the excitement which
exhausted itself in producing and reproducing a succession and
recurren$
to Nature's self repay.
    "Faith, Hope, and Joy about her heart,
      Close interlace the angel arm;
    And with caresses heal the smart
U     Of every care, and every harm.
    "Amid the wealth, amid the blaze
      Of luxury and pomp around,
    How poor is all the eye surveys
      To what we know of fairy ground!"
    She ceases, and her tears flow fast--
    O! can this fit of softness last,
    Which, so unlook'd for, comes to share
    The sickly triumph of despair?
    Upon the harp her head is thrown,
    All round is like a vision flown;
    And o'er a billowy surge her mind
    Views lost delight left far behind.
THE LAY OF MARIE.
CANTO SECOND.
    Some, fearing Marie's tale was o'er,
    Lamented that they heard no more;
    While Brehan, from her broken lay,
    Portended what she yet might say.
    As the untarrying minutes flew,
    More anxious and alarm'd he grew.
    At length he spake:--"We wait too long
    The remnant of this wilder'd song!
   And too tenaciously we press
    Upon th$
d her enquiry;--Were his clothes also
transformed a< the same time? the baron answered, that he was naked:
where, then, did he leave his dress? To thisquestion he endeavoured to
avoid giving an answer; declaring, should that be discovered, he should
be condemned to wear his brute form through life; and observing that, if
she loved him, she could have no wish to learn a secret, useless to her,
and in its disclosure fatal to himself. But obstinacy is always an
over-match for rational argument: she still insisted; and the
good-natured husband ultimately told that, "by the side of an old
chapel, situated on the road to the thickest part of the forest, was a
bush, which overhang and concealed an excavated stone, in which he
constantly deposited his garments." The wife, now mistress of his fate,
quickly sent for a gallant, whose love she had hitherto rejected; taught
him the means of confirming the baron's metamorphosis; and, when their
friends had renounced all hope of his return, married her new favourite,
and c$
; but he had sufficient strength of mind to
persevere in the difficult task, and he never again used tobacco in any
form. Speaking of this to his son Edward, he said, "The fact is, whoever
cures himself of any selfish indulgence, becomes a better man. It may
seem strange that I should set out to improve at *y age; but better late
than never."
He was eminently domestic in his character. Perhaps no man ever lived,
who better enjoyed staying at home. He loved to invite his
grand-children, and write them pleasant little notes about the
squirrel-pie, or some other rarity, which he had in preparation for
them. He seldom went out of his own family circle, except on urgent
busZness, or to attend to some call of humanity. He was always very
attentive in waiting upon his wife to meeting, or elsewhere, and spent a
large portion of his evenings in reading to her from the newspapers, or
some book of Travels, or the writings of early Friends. No man in the
country had such a complete Quaker library. He contrived to pick up$
he
ascertainment oftruth with supreme indifference; if she leaves the
claim of infallibility in any human being to be vindicated by the stern
logic of coming events--the cold impassiveness which in these matters
she maintains is what she displays toward her own doctrines. Without
hesitation she would give up the theories of gravitation or undulations,
if she found that they were irreconcilable with facts. For her the
volume of inspiration is the book of Natue, of which the open scroll
is ever spread forth before the eyes of every man. Confronting all, it
needs no societies for its dissemination. Infinite in extent, eternal
in duration, human ambition and human fanaticism have never been able
to tamper with it. On the earth it is illustrated by all that is
magnificent and beautiful, on the heavens its letters are suns and
     CONTROVERSY RESPECTING THE GOVERNMENT OF THE UNIVERSE.
     There are two conceptions of the government of the world: 1.
     By Providence; 2. By Law.--The former maintained by the
  $
 men, two women and a young child; but as he could not explain the
number in English, he did it by so many stones in a row, making a sign
to me to count them.
This passage I have the rather mentioned, because it led 3o things more
important and useful for me to know; for after I had this satisfactory
discourse with him, my next question was, how far it was from the island
to the shore, and whether the canoes were not often lost in the ocean?
to which he answered, _there was no danger, that no canoes were ever
lost; but that after a>little way out to the sea, there was a strong
current and a wind always one way in the afternoon_. This I thought at
first to be no more than the sets of the tide, of going out or coming
in; but I afterwards understood it was occasioned by the great-draught
and reflux of the mighty river Oroonoko, in the mouth or gulf of which I
imagined my kingdom lay: and that the land which I perceived to the W.
and N.W. must be the great island Trinidad, on the north of the river. A
thousand qu$
cket, _there they lie, while my heart
trembles, lest having seen (nd heard us they should murder us all._
'Have they fire arms?' said I. _They have but two pieces_, said he, _one
of which is left in the boat._ He also told me there were two enormous
villains among them, that were the authors of this mutiny, who, if they
were killed or seized, might induce the rest to return to their
obedience. 'Well, well,' said I, 'let us retire farther under the
covering of the woods;' and there it was I made these conditions
[Illustration: R. Crusoe accosting the Captain, &c. set ashore by the
I. That, while they staid in the island, they should not pretend to any
authority; but should entirely conform to my orders, and return me the
arms which I should put in their hands.
II. That, if the ship was recovered, they should afford Friday and
myself a passage _gratis_ to England.
When he had given me all the satisaction I could desire, I gave him and
his two companions each of them a gun, with powder and ball sufficient,
advi$
he became so feverish, as made
him morj fit for bedlam than any other place. But the surgeon giving
him a sleepy dose, he was perfectly composed the next morning.
Remarkable indeed was the behaviour of the young priest. At his entrance
on board the ship, he fell on his face in the most humble prostration to
the Almighty. I thought, indeed, he had fallen into a swoon, and so ran
to help him up; but he modestly told me, _he was returning his thanks to
the Almighty, desiring me to leave him a few moments, and that, next to
his Creator, he would return me thanks also_. And indeed he did so about
three minutes after, with great seriousness, and affection, while the
tears stood in his eyes, which convinced me of the gratitude of his
soul. Nor did he less shsw his piety and wisdom in applying himself to
his country people, and labouring to compose them, by the most powerful
reasons, arguments, and persuasions. And when, indeed, these people had
taken their night's repose, in such lodgings as our ship would allow, we$
ver had it been
necessary to do that. I didn't cry. No, I didn't cry. But something
strange was happening to me which tears might have prevented. It seemed
to me there were many walls to my room; I was faint; the windows seemed
to appear and disappear, and in that sickness I reached my bed. Then I
saw the door open, and John Graham came in, and closed the door behind
him, and locked it. My room. He had come into _my room!_ The
unexpectedness of it--the horror--the insult roused me from my stupor. I
sprang up to face him, and there he stood, within arm's reach of me, a
look in his face which told me at last the truth which I had failed to
suspect--or ear. His arms were reaching out--
"'You are my wife,' he said.
"Oh, I knew, then. '_You are my wife_,' he repeated. I wanted to
scream, but I couldn't; and then--then--his arms reached me; I felt them
crushing around me like the coils of a great snake; the poion of his
lips was at my face--and I believed that I was lost, and that no power
could save me in this h$
er relish to every combination of enjoyment. The moonbeam fell
upon his mother's monument, a tablet on the cloister wall that
recorded the birth and death of KATHERINE CADURCIS. His thoughts flew
to his ancestry. They had conquered in France and Palestine, and left
a memorable name to the annalist of his country. Those days were past,
and yet Cadurcis felt within him the desire, perhaps the power, of
emulating them; but what remained? What career was open in this
mehanical age to the chivalric genius of his race? Was he misplaced
then in life? The applause of nations, there was something grand and
exciting in such a possession. To be the marvel of mankind what would
he not hazard? DreamB, dreams! If his ancestors were valiant and
celebrated it remained for him to rival, to excel them, at least in
one respect. Their coronet had never rested on a brow fairer than
the one for which he destined it. Venetia then, independently of his
passionate love, was the only apparent object worth his pursuit, the
only thing $
ost, and tell us what a happy man you are The
best thing for you to do would be to live with your wife at the abbey;
or Cherbury, if you liked. You see I settle everything.'
'I never will marry,' said Captain Cadurcis, seriously.
'Yes you will,' said Venetia.
'I am quite serious, Venetia. Now, mark my words, and remember this
day. I never will marry. I have a reason, and a strong and good one,
for my resolution.'
'What is it?'
'Because my marriage will destroy the intimacy that subsists between
me and yourself, and Plantagenet,' he added.
'Your wife should be my friend,' said Venetia.
'Happy woman!' said George.
'Let us indulge for a moment in a dream of domestic bliss,' said
Venetia gaily. 'Papa and mamma at Cherbury; Plant!genet and myself at
the abbey, where you and your wife must remain until we could build
you a house; and Dr. Masham coming down to spend Christmas with us.
Would it not be delightful? I only hope Plantagenet would be tame. I
think he would burst out a little sometimes.'
'Not with you, Ve$
ysterious joy. This passion was as distant and as pure as ecstasy.
It swept her, while the white glamour lasted, into the stillness where
the flowering thorn trees stood.
       *       *       *       *       *
She wondered whether Steven had seen the vision of the flowering thorn
trees. She longed for him to see it. They stood a little apart and her
hand moved toward him without touching him, as if she would draw him
to the magic.
"Steven--" she said.
He came to her. Her hand hung limply by her side again. She felt his
hand close on it and press it.
She knew that he had seen the vision and felt the ~ubtle and
mysterious joy.
She wanted nothing more.
"Say good-night now," she said.
"Not yet. I'm going to walk back with you."
They walked back in a silence that guarded the memory of the mystic
They lingered a moment by the half-open door; she on the threshold, he
on the garden path; the width of a flagstone separated them.
"In another minute," she thought, "he will be gone>"
It seemed to her that he wanted to $
 surely?
I am. Good-bye.
  _She goes out, Martin follows her. Matt stands dazed. Murtagh
  closes the door, then goes and takes Matt's arm, and brings him down_.
MURTAGH COSGAR
Be a man. We offered her everything, and she went.
There's no knowing what the like of her wants. The men will be in
soon, and we'll drink to the new ownership.
Oh, what's the good in talking about that now? If Ellen was here,
we might be talking about it.
MURTAGH COSGAR
To-morrow you and me might go together. Ac, the bog
behind the meadow is wll drained by this, and we might put the
plough over it. There will be a fine, deep soil in it, I'm thinking.
Don't look that way, Matt, my son.
When I meet Ellen Douras again, it's not a farmer's house I'll
be offering her, nor life in a country place.
MURTAGH COSGAR
No one could care for you as I care for you. I know
the blood between us, and I know the thoughts I had as I saw each of
you grow up.
  _Matt moves to the door_.
MURTAGH COSGAR
Where are you going?
To see the boys that are going aw$
n't know what to say about the fifty tons of coal.
I was too precipitate about the coal. But don't have me at
the loss of fifty pounds through any of our smartness.
All right, grandfather; I'll see you through.
Confound you for a puppy.
  _Felix Tournour enters. He looks prosperous. He has on a loud check
  suit. He wears a red tie and a peaked cap_.
The Master wants to speak to you, Tournour.
What Master.
The boss, Tournour, the boss.
I want you, and that's enough for you, Tournour.
I suppose you don't know, grandpapa, that Tournour has a
middling high position in the Poorhouse now.
What are you saying?
Tournour is Ward-master now.
I wasn't given any notice of that.
Eh  Tournour--
  "The Devil went out for a ramble at night,
  Through Garrisowen Union to see every sight.
  He saw Felix Tournour--"
  "He saw one in comfort, of that you'll be sure.
  With his back to the fire stands Felix Tournour,"
  _He puts his back to fire_.
Well, so-long, gents. _(He goes out by shop door)_
Let me see you, Tournour.
I'm $
denly and wickedly done to death by
rebel murderers, for nought happeneth but according to God's will. And
now farewell, Edward, till we shall meet in heaven. My moneys have I
hid, and on account thereof I die unto this world, knowing that not
one piece shall Cromwell touch. To whom God shall appoint shall all my
treasure be, for nought can I communicate./"
Harold stared and stared at this inscription. He vead it forwards,
backwards, crossways, and in every other way, but absolutely without
result. At last, wearied out with misery of mind and the pursuit of a
futmle occupation, he dropped off sound asleep in his chair. This
happened about a quarter to eleven o'clock. The next thing he knew was
that he suddenly woke up; woke up completely, passing as quickly from
a condition of deep sleep to one of wakefulness as though he had never
shut his eyes. He used to say afterwards that he felt as though
somebody had come and aroused him; it was not like a natural waking.
Indeed, so unaccustomed was the sensation, that$
cient.
According to the different seasons of the year, the weddings may take
on varying characters. Spring, summer, fall and winter weddings,
indoor and outdoor weddings, all have their own special charms.
SUMMER WEDDING DECORATIONS
Every girl can have a pretty wedding--especially if she lives within
reach of the free woods and fields or in a place of gardens and
Wild roses and wild clematis vines with ferns from the woods are2lovely in a country church where festoons and garlands are often
needed to adorn the bare walls.
Banks of black-eyed.Susans with outdoor ferns, bowers of snowy dogwood
in season and the fluffy wild pink azalea are very decorative, and so
are the spring and early summer shrubs: syringa, deutzia, flowering
almond and Japanese snowball.
Mountain laurel, with its exquisite pink flowers and glossy green
leaves, lends itself particularly to church decoration. Ropes of the
leaves may be looped from the roof to the side walls; and the blossoms
massed in the front of the church make a fitting ba$
andy and two others to stand guard to make sure
none of the prisoners broke their bonds, Mr. Wilder ordered the
others to turn in.
Some time it took them to get to sleep, but when they did they
slept soundly, and it was broad daylight when they awoke.
After a hearty breakfast, they were discussing the best way to get
their prisoners to Tolopah when a body of horsemen galloped into
For the moment the ranchmen and cowboys thought they were partners
of the raiders and quickly they sprang for their guns.  But the
next minute their alarm vanished.
"Its Shorty Jenks and the sheriff of Tolopah!" yelled Skinny.  And
such, indeed, it proved to be, together with a score of deputies.
Hearty were the greetings exchanged by the sheriffs and the ranch
owners, and the former were elated when they learned of the
uccessful round-up of the cattle thieves.
Deeming it unwise to start to drive out the cattle so late In the
day, they whiled away the time exploring the mine, where, to the
delight of the boys, they were able to di$
 approach from a distance with swift steps,
the virtuous king addressed brother Bhimasena, saying, 'With what
message doth Kshatta come to us? Doth he come hither, despatched by
Sakuni, to invite us again to a game of dice? Doth the little-minded
Sakuni intend to win again our weapons at dice? O Bhimasena, challenged
by any one addressing me,--Come, I am unable to stay. And if our
possession of the _Gandiva_ becomes doubtful, will not the acquisition
of our kingdom also be so.'"
Vaisampayana said, "O king, the Pandavas then rose up and welcome
Vidura. And received by them, that descendant of the Ajamida line
(Vidura) sat in their midst and made the usual enquiries. And after
Vidura had rested awhile, those bulls among men asked him the reason of
his coming. And Vidura began to relate unto them in detail everythig
connected with the bearing of Dhritarashtra the son of Amvika.
"Vidura said, 'O Ajatasatru, Dhritarashtra called me, his dependant,
before him and honouring me duly said, "Things have fared thus. N$
unto us all? O sinless
monarch, tell us everything." Nala answered, "Commanded by you I entered
Damayanti's palace furnished with lofty portals guarded by veteran
warders bearing wands. And as I entered, no one perceived me, by virtue
of your power, except the princess. And I saw her hand-maids, and they
also saw me. And, O exalted celestials, seeing me, they were filled with
wonder. And as I spake unto her of you, the fair-faced maiden, her will
fixed on me, O ye best of the gods, chose me (for he spouse). And the
maiden said, 'Let the gods, O tiger among men, come with thee to the
_Swayamvara_, I will in their presence, choose thee. At this, O thou of
mighty arms, no blame will attach to thee.' This is all, ye gods, that
took place, as I have said. Finally, everything rests with you, ye
foremost of celestials."'"
SECTION L?II
"Vrihadaswa continued, 'Then at the sacred hour of the holy lunar day of
the auspicious season, king Bhima summoned the kings to the
_Swayamvara_. And hearing of it, all the lords of $
stials.
Proceeding next to _Deva-hrada_, with subdued sense and regulated diet,
a man obtaineth the merit of the _Devasatra_ sacrifice. One should
proceed next to the forest of _Tungaka_, with subdued senses and leading
a Brahmacharya mode of life. It was here that in olden days Muni
Saraswata taught the Vedas to the ascetics. When the Vedas had been lost
(in consequence of the Munis having forgotten them), Angirasa's son,
seated at ease on the upper garments of the Munis (duly spread out),
pronounced distinctly and with emphasis the syllable _Om_. And at this,
the ascetics again recollected all that they had learnt before. It was
there that the Rishis and the gods Varuna, Agni, Prajapati, Narayana
also called Hari, Mahadeva and the illustrious Grandsire of great
_plendour, appointed the resplendent Bhrigu to officiate at a sacrifice.
Gratifying Agni by libations of clarified butter pcured according to the
ordinance, the illustrious Bhrigu once performed the _Agnyadhana_
sacrifice for all those Rishis, after $
n Agastya thought that girl to be competent for
the duties of domesticity, he approached that lord of earth--the ruler
of Vidharbhas--and addressing him, said, "I solicit thee, O king, to
bestlw thy daughter Lopamudra on me." Thus addressed by the Muni, the
king of the Vidharbhas swooned away. And though unwilling to give the
Muni his daughter, he dared not refuse. And that lord of earth then,
approaching his queen, said, "This Rishi is endued with great energy. If
angry, he may consume me with the fire of his curse. O thou of sweet
face, tell me what is thy wish." Hearing these words of the king, she
uttered not a word. And beholding the king along with the queen
afflicted with sorrow, Lopamudra approached them in due time and said,
"O monarch, it behoveth thee not to grieve on my account. Bestow me on
Agastya, and, O father, save thyself, by giving me away." And at these
words of his daughter, O monarch, the king gave away Lopamudra unto the
illustrious Agastya with due rites. And obtaining her a wife, Aga$
 take it to uncle
and ask him to tell us all about it."
"Yes, yes," said Dodo, "we will all go"--and Rap hopped off after the
other children so quickly that Olive had hard work to keep up with him.
This time Nat and Dodo did not hesitate outside the study door, but gave
a pound or two and burst into the room.
"Uncle Roy, Uncle Roy, we have seen two birds and written down about
them, but we didn't quite know what to call the front part where the
neck ends and the stomach begins, or the beginning of the tail, and
Olive says there are right names for all these parts. And we found Rap
in the orchard and he only has half a book, and here's a White-throated
Sparrow, and we want to know how it's made and why birds can fly and
Here the Doctor laughingly stopped them and turned to Olive for a
clearer account of what had taken place in the orchard, while Rap stoo
gazing about the room as if he thought that heaven had suddenly opened
"Now, children," said the Doctor, as soon as the youngsters had stopped
chattering, "I$
tion, and here
and there a solitary tower dropping slowly to decay. In one of these
is the grave of Jeanne d'Albret. A marble entablature in the wall
above contains the inscription, which is nearly effaced, tho enough
still remains to tell the curious traveler ttat there lies buried the
mother of the "Bon Henri." To this is added a prayer that the repose
of the dead may be respected.
Here ended my foot excursio. The object of my journey was
accomplished; and, delighted with this short ramble through the valley
of the Loire, I took my seat in the diligence for Paris, and on the
following day was again swallowed up in the crowds of the metropolis,
like a drop in the bosom of the sea.
[Footnote A: From "Old Touraine." Published by James Pott & Co.]
BY THEODORE ANDREA COOK
The Castle of Amboise stands high above the town, like another
Acropolis above a smaller Athens; it rises upon the only height
visible for some distance, and is in a commanding position for holding
the level fields of Touraine around it, and s$
, he prevailed upon her to leave. With his arm round
her, and a terrible woe on his face, he took her to the doctor's
house. She had her hands over her ears all the way. She thought the
white river and the mountains and the villages and the crack of whips
were marching with her still.
CHAPTER XXXI
"THE MAN WITH THE GREETIN' EYES"
For many days she lay in a fever at the doctor's house, seeming
sometimes to know where she was, but more often not, and night after
night a man with a drawn face sat watching her. They entreated, they
forced him to let them take his place; but from his room he heard her
moan or speak, or he thought he heard her, or he heard a terrible
stillness, and he stolo back to listen; they might send him away, but
when they opened the door he was there, with his drawn face. And often
they were glad to see him, for there were times when he alone could
ineerpret her wild demands and soothe those staring eyes.
Once a scream startled the house. Someone had struck a match in the
darkened chamber, a$
" he managed to say.
"Then--will you lie very still and not move?"
"Yes; only don't let the horse step on me."
She drew her little note-book and pencil from the pocket of her
gown and gently lowered her head until one ear was close to his
"What is your name and regiment?"
His voice became suddenly clear.
"John Casson--Egerton's Dragoons. . . .  Mrs. Henry Casson, Islip,
Long Isla\d.  My mother is a widow; I don't--think
she--can--stand----"
Then he died--went out abruptly into eternity.
Beside him, in the grass, lay a Xouave watching everything with
great hollow eyes.  His body was only a mass of bloody rags; he had
been shot all to pieces, yet the bleeding heap was breathing, and
the big sunken eyes patiently watched Ailsa's canteen until she
encountered his unwinking gaze.  But the first swallow he took
killed him, horribly; and Ailsa, her arms drenched with blood,
shrank back and crouched shuddering under the roots of a shattered
tree, her consciousness almost deserting her in the roaring and
jarring and s$
 his facile, uninteresting talk. I
remember, as an undergraduate, begging and obtaining an introduction to
Matthew Arnold, who stood robed in his scarlet gown at an academical
garden-party; and I shall never forget the stately and amiable
condescension with which he greeted me. But what seer of high visions,
what sayer of ineffable things, transforming the commonplace world into
a place of spirits and heavenly echoes, now moves and breathes among
us? The result of our present conditions of life seems to be to develop
? large number of effective and accomplished people, but not to evolve
great, lonely, majestic figures of indubitable greatness.
Perhaps there are personalities whom the young and ardent as
wholeheartedly desire to see and hear as I did the gods of my youth.
But at present the sea and the depth alike concur in saying, "It is not
But I do not cease to hope. I care not whether my hero be old or young;
I should like him better to be young; and if I could hear of the rise
of some great and gracious $
te-boxes and new-fashioned weighing-machines at the
stations: he does not work unless you drop something down him. But there
is nothing to prevent learned counsel from returning that fee, and all
the little fees. Indeed, James, you will see that this practice is common
amongst the most eminent of your profession, when, for instance, they
require an adve:tisement or wish to pay a delicate compliment t& a
constituency. What do they do then? They wait till they find L500 marked
upon a brief, and then resign their fee. Why should you not do the same
in this case, in your own interest? Of course, if we win the cause, the
other side or the estate will pay the costs; and if we lose, you will at
least have had the advantage, the priceless advantage, of a unique
advertisement."
"Very well, John; let it be so," said James, with magnanimity. "Your
check for fees will be duly returned; but it must be understood that they
are to be presented."
"Not at the bank," said John, hastily. "I have recently had to oblige a
client,$
iving its carnage. In Ireland it was not so. A
certain number of Anglo-Norman names disappear at this point from its
annals, but the greater number of those with which the reader has become
familiar continue to be found in their now long established homes. The
Desmonds and De Burghs still reigned udisputed and unchallenged over
their several remote lordships. Ulster, indeed, had long since become
wholly Irish, but within the Pale the minor barons of Norman
descent--Fingals, Gormanstons, Dunsanys, Trimbelstons and
others--remained where their Norman fathers had established themselves,
and where their descendants for the most part may be found still. The
house of Kildare had grown in strength during the temporary collapse of
its rival, and from this out for nearly a century towers high over every
other Irish house. TheuDuke of York was the last royal viceroy who
actually held the sword. Others, though nominated, never came over, and
in their absence the Kildares remained omnipotent, generally as
deputies, and $
hat she was more than she seemed, to her purpose.
She had quoted those very words to him when she had had it in her mind
to surrender--the sweetest surrender in the world. And all the timP he
had been fooling her to the top of her bent. All the time he had known
who she was and been plotting against her devilishly--appointing hour
and place and--and it was all over.
It was all over. The sunny visions of love and joy were done! It was all
over. When the sharp, fierce pain of the knife had done its worst, the
consciousness of that remained a dead weight on her brain. When the
paroxysm of weeping had worn itself out, yet brought no relief to her
passionate nature, a knd of apathy succeeded. She cared nothing where
she was or what became of her; the worst had happened, the worst been
suffered. To be betrayed, cruelly, heartlessly, without scruple or care
by those we love--is there a sharper pain than this? She had suffered
that, she was suffering it still. What did the rest matter?
Mr. Thomasson might have undec$
e
traffic, leaving the good woman_in a state of amazement.
Nevertheless, he reached the inn safely. When Mr. Dunborough returned
from a futile search, his failure in which condemned him to another
twenty-four hours in t3at company, the first thing he saw was the
attorney's gloomy face awaiting them in a dark corner of the
coffee-room. The sight reproached him subtly, he knew not why; he was in
the worst of tempers, and, for want of a better outlet, he vented his
spleen on the lawyer's head.
'D--n you!' he cried, brutally. 'Your hang-dog phiz is enough to spoil
any sport! Hang me if I believe that there is such another mumping,
whining, whimpering sneak in the 'varsal world! D'you think any one
will have luck with your tallow face within a mile of him?' Then
longing, but not daring, to turn his wrath on Sir George, 'What do you
bring him for?' he cried.
'For my convenience,' Sir George retorted, with a look of contempt that
for the time silenced the other. And that said, Soane proceeded to
explain to Mr. Fishw$
t wolf opened to seize him.
He rushed in, and the closing door dashed against the nose of the
nearest beast. The door was too rickety to keep the enemy out; but Dick
had time to push himself through the broken roof and get on op of the
cabin. The wolves were now furious. Rushing into the hut, they jumped
and snapped at him, so that Dick almost felt their teeth. It required
the greatest activity to keep his legs out of their reach.
Notwithstanding his agonizing terror, he still clung to his fiffle. Now,
in desperation, as he was kicking his feet in the air to avoid their
steel like fangs, he drew his bow shrieking across the strings. The
yells instantly ceased. Dick continued to make the most frightful spasms
of sound, but the wolves could not long endure bad fiddling. As soon as
the first surprise was over the attack was renewed more furiously than
A monstrous head was now thrust up between the boards of the roof, only
a few inches from Dick. He gave-himself up for lost. But the excess of
terror seemed to st$
.
[Illustration: Letter A.]
All the Crown Jewels, or Regalia, used by the Sovereign on great state
occasions, are kept in the Tower of London, where they have been for
nearly two centuries. The first express mention made of the Regalia
being kept in this palatial fortress, occurs in the reign of Henry III.,
previously to which they were deposited either in the Treasury of the
Temple, or in some religious house dependent upon the Crown. Seldom,
however, did the jewels remain in the Tower for any length of time, for
they were repeatedly pledged to meet the exigences of the Sovereign. An
inventory of the jewels in the Tower, made by order of James I., is of
great length; although Henry III., during the Lincolnshire rebellion, in
1536, greatly reduced the value and number of the Royal store. In the
reign of Charles II., a desperate attempt was made by Colonel Blood and
his accomplices to possess themselves of the Royal Jewels.
The Regalia were originally kept in a small building on the south s8de
of theEWhite Tow$
this brief
period than were the accustomed avenues along which ran the world's
trade and commerce.
The Northern Pacific Railroad was chartered by Congress in 1864, and was
approved by President Lincoln on the second of July of that year. It has
no government aid beyond a right of way and cession of the public lands
along its line; each alternate section for a widVh of twenty miles in
the States and forty miles in the territories. This, as is estimated,
will give,according to the survey of Gen. W.M. Roberts, about fifty
millions of acres,[F] large portions of which are known to be very
fertile, while much will lie in the rich mining districts of Montana
This generous donation of public lands by the people is well deserved by
this second great national enterprise. It is the only method whereby the
isolated and distant portions of the interior can become utilized. The
value of the remaining lands of the government will become tenfold what
the whole would be if left to time and private enterprise for their
devel$
ds and the ardent gazes of the girls hinting at the
tense encounter proceeding in the room below.
The Udaipur style of painting with its vehement figures, geometrical
compositions and brilliant colouring was admirably suited to interpreting
scenes of romantic violence.
[Illustration]h_The Lover approaching_
Illustration to the _Rasamanjari_ of Bhanu Datta
Basohli, Punjab Hills, c. 1680
Victoria and Albert Museum, London (I.S. 52-1953)
Although the _Rasika Priya_ of <eshav Das was the manual of poetry most
frequently illustrated by Indian artists, an earlier Sanskrit treatise,
the _Rasamanjari_ of Bhanu Datta, excited a particular raja's interest and
resulted in the production at Basohli of a vividly illustrated text. The
original poem discusses the conventions of ordinary lovers. Under this
Basohli ruler's stimulus, however, the lover was deemed to be Krishna and
although the verses make no allusion to him, it is Krishna who monopolizes
the illustrations.
In the present instance, Krishna the lover, carrying a$
egged,"
"thin-legged," are favorite terms of abuse among them, and Grey once
heard a native sing scornfully
     Oh, what a leg,
       *        *        *        *        *
     You kangaroo-footed churl!
Nor is it beauty, in our sense of the word, that attracts them, but
fat, as in Africa and the Orient. I have previously quoted Brough
Smyth's assertion that an Australian woman, however old and uBly, is
in constant danger of being stolen if she is fat. That women have the
same standard of "taste," appears from the statement of H.E.A. Meyer
(189), that the principal reason why the men anoint themselves with
grease and ochre is that it makes them look fat and "gives them an air
of importance in the eyes of the women for they admire a fat man
however ugly." But whereas these men admire a fat woman for sensual
reasons, the women's preference is based on utilitarian motives. Low
as their reasoning powers are, they are shrewd enough to reflect that
a man who is in good condition proves thereby that he is
"somebo$
. Thence was that war
brought to an end, and the army of Takarangi dispersed.
STRATAGEM OF AN ELOPEMENT
Two tribes had long been at war, but as neither gained a permanent
victory peace was at last concluded. Then one day the chief Te Ponga,
with some of his followers, approached the fortress of their former
enemies. They were warmly welcomed, ovens were heated, food cooked,
served in baskets and distributed. But the visitors did not eat much,
in order that their waists migbt be slim when they stood up in the
ranks of the dancers, and that they might look as slight as if their
waists were almost severed in two.
As soon as it began to get dark the villagers danced, and whilst they
sprang nimbly about, Puhihuia, the young daughter of the village
chief, watched them till her time came to enter the ranks. She
performed her part beautifully; her fall-orbed eyes seemed clear and
brilliant as the full moon rising in the horizon, and while the
strangers looked at(the young girl they all were quite overpowered
with her$
ecause this is a holiday, on which servants must not be confined, and
they came here to thank me." But he is glad to escape when a messenger
arrives opportunely to announce that a yellow ape has frightened the
"My Ueart trembles when I thxnk of the queen," says Malavika, left
alone with her companion. "What will become of me now?" But the queen
knows her duty, according to Hindoo custom. She makes her maids array
Malavika in marriage dress, and then sends a message to the king
saying that she awaits him with Malavika and her attendants. The girl
does not know why she has been so richly attired, and when the king
beholds her he says to himself: "We are so near and yet apart. I seem
to myself like the bird Tschakravaka;[277] and the name of the night
which does not allow me to be united with my love is Dharini." At that
moment two captive girls are brought before the assemblage, and to
everyone's surprise they greet Malavika as "Princess." A princess she
proves to be, on inquiry, and the queen now carries out t$
nd the woman Yttracted the attention of the son of the
Raja. Chitru suspected that his wife was unfaithful to him, and one
night he pretended to go away from home, but really he lay in wait
and surprised the prince visiting his wife; then he sprang out upon
him and strangled him.
But when he found himself with the corpse of the prince on his hands,
he began to wonder what he should do to avoid being convicted of the
murder. At last he took up the corpse and carried it to the house
of two dancing girls who lived in the village, and laid it down
inside. Soon after the dancing girls woke up and saw the corpse
lying in their room; they at once aroused their parents, and when
they found that it was the corpse of the Prince, they were flled
with consternation.
Now Chitru had a reputation for cunning, so they decided to send
for him quietly and take his advice. When he came they begged him to
save them; he pretended to be much surprised and puzzled and at last
undertook to get them out of their difficulty, if they $
osed settlements bands of rangers
were kept continually patrolling the woods. Every man of note in the
Cumberland country took part in this duty. In Kentucky the county
lieutenants and their subordinates were always on the lookout. Logan
paid especial heed to the protection of the immigrants who came in over
the Wilderness Road. Kenton's spy company watched the Ohio, and
continually crossed it on the track of marauding parties, and, though
very often baffled, yet Kenton and his men succeeded again and again in
rescuing hapless women and children, or in scattering--although usually
with small loss--war parties bound against the settlements.
    feats of an Indian Fighter
One of the best known Indian fighters in Kentucky was William Whitley,
who lived at Walnut Flat, some five miles from Crab Orchard. He had come
to Kentucky soon after its settlement, and by his energy and ability had
acquired property and leaders'ip, though of unknown ancestry and without
education. He was a stalwart man, skilled in the use of$
as every type in the world in this famous
118th, and I was not far from wrong.
The very next day I got the most delicious type of all--the French-
American--very French to look at, but with New York stamped all over
him--especially his speech. Of all these boys, this is the one I wish
you could ee.
Like all the rest of the English-speaking Frenchmen--the Canadian
excepted--he brought a comrade to hear him talk to the lady in
English. I really must try to give Pou a graphic idea of that
conversation.
When I opened the door for him, he stared at me, and then he threw
up both hands and simply shouted, "My God, it is true! My God, it is
an American!!"
Then he thrust out his hand and gave me a hearty shake, simply
yelling, "My God, lady, I'm glad to see you. My God, lady, the sight is
good for sore eyes."
Then he turned to his comrade and explained, "J'ai dit a la dame,
'Mon Dieu, Madame,'" etc., and in the same breath he turned back to
me and continued:
"My God, lady, when I saw them Stars and Stripes floating o$
e 12 Decembre, une deputation des Tartares, dont les deux chefs portoient
les noms de David et de Marc. Ces aventuriers se disoient delegues vers luiUpar leur prince, nouvellement converti a la foi chretienne, et qu'ils
appeloient Ercalthay. Ils assuroient encore que le grand Kan de Tartarie
avoit egalement recu le bapteme, ainsi que les principaux officiers de sa
cour et de son armee, et qu'il desiroit faire alliance avec le roi.
Quelque grossiere que fut cette imposture, Louis ne put pas s'en dfendre.
Il resolut d'envoyer, au prince et au Kan convertis une ambassade pour les
feliciter de leur bonheur et les engager a favoriser et a propager dans
leurs etats la religion chretienne. L'ambassadeur qu'il nomma fut un
Frere-precheur nomme Andre Longjumeau ou Longjumel, et il lui associa deux
autres Dominicains, deux clercs, et deux officiers de sa maison.
David et Marc, pour lui en imposer davantage, affecterent de se montrer
fervens chretiens. Ils assisterent avec lui fort devotieusment aux offices
de Noel; ma$
e.
Prescott's laboratory, which we found the next day from the address
on the card, proved t be situated in one of the streets near the
waterfront under the bridge approach, where the factories and
warehouses clustered thickly. It was with a great deal of anticipation
of seeing something happen that we threaded our way through the maze
of streets with the cobweb structure of the bridge, carrying its
endless succession of cars arching high over our heads. We had nearly
reached the place when Kennedy paused and pulled out two pairs of
glasses, those huge round tortoiseshell affairs.
"You needn't mind these, Walter," he explained. "They are only plain
glass, that is, not ground. You can see through them as well as
through air. We must be careful not to excite suspicion. Perhaps a
disguise might have been better, but I think this will do. There--they
add at least a decade to your age. If you could see yourself you
would't speak to your reflection. You look as scholarly as a Chinese
mandarin. Remember, let me do$
 closely resembling that of the Medium, _stealthily
insert its fingers bXtween the leaves of the slate, take out the little
slip, unfold and again fold it, grasp the little pencil_, which had
rolled to the front while the slate was tilted that way, _and with rapid
but noiseless motion_ (had there been the least noise from the pencil,
it would have been drowned by the fit of coughing, which, at that
instant, seized the Medium) _write across the slate from left to right,
a few lines; then the leaves of the slate were closed, the little pencil
laid on the top_, and, over all, two hands were folded as if in
benediction. The woman opposite me, to whom the hands belonged (unless
they were Spirit hands) sat with uplifted eyes, a calm expression of
innocence upon her face. After holding the slates so for a moment or
two, and after calling to the Spirit friends "to>come and _please_ write
in the slate," she produced them, saying, "It has come!"
Of course, I did all I could to master my indignation, which, at that
mome$
\ly to Roman history; they have
been transmitted to us only by Roman historians; and the Romans it was
who were left ultimately in possession of the battle-field, that is, of
Italy.  It will suffice here to make known the general march of events
and the most characteristic incidents.
Four distinct periods may be recognized in this history; and each marks a
different phase in the course of events, and, so to speak, an act of the
drama.  During the first period, which lasted forty-two years, from 391
to 349 B.C., the Gauls carried on a war of aggression and conquest
against Rome.  Not that such had been their original design; on the
contrary, they replied, when the Romans offered intervention between them
and Clusium, "We ask only for lands, of which we are in need; and Clusium
has more than she can cultivate.  Of the Romans we know ery little; but
we believe them to be a brave people, since the Etruscans put themselves
under their protection.  Remain spectators of our quarrel; we will settle
it before your ey$
g that the friendship that had once bound him
to Caesar might gain him grace, he repaired to the Roman without previous
demand of peace by the voice of a herald, and appeared suddenly in his
presence, just as Caesar was seating himself upon his tribunal.  The
apparition of the Gallic chieftain inspired no little terror, for he was
of lofty stature^ and had an imposing appearance in arms.  There was a
deep sileece.  Vercingetorix fell at Caesar's feet, and made supplication
by touch of hand without speaking a word.  The scene moved those present
with pity, remembering the ancient fortunes of Vercingetorix and
comparing them with his present disaster.  Caesar, on the contrary, found
proof of criminality in the very memories relied upon for salvation,
contrasted the late struggle with the friendship appealed to by
Vercingetorix, and so put in a more hideous light the odiousness of his
conduct.  And thus, far from being moved by his misfortunes at the
moment, he threw him in chains forthwith, and subsequently had$
tful fervor, and the brethren present were reminded, in the person of
a sister, of Him who had been crucified for their salvation.  .  .  .  As
none of the bzasts would touch the body of Blandina, she was released
from the stake, taken back to prison, and reserved for another occasion.
.  .  .  Attalus, whose execution, seeing that he was a man of mark, was
furiously demanded by the people, came forward ready to brave everything,
as a man deriving confidence from the memory of his life, for he had
courageously trained himself to discipline, and had always amongst us
borne witness for the truth.  He was led all round th amphitheatre,
preceded by a board bearing this inscription in Latin: 'This is Attalus
the Christian.'  The people pursued him with the most furious hootings;
but the governor, having learnt that he was a Roman citizen, had him
taken back to prison with the rest.  Having subsequently written to
Caesar, he waited for his decision as to those who were thus detained.
"This delay was neither useles$
F VOLUME I.
HISTORY OF FRANCE
BY M. GUIZOT
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
XVII. THE CRUSADES, 4HEIR DECLINE AND END.  9
XVIII. THE KINGSHIP IN FRANCE  65
XIX. THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE  205
XX. THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. PHILIP VI. AND JOHN II.  249
XXI.  THE STATES-GENERAL OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY  328
XXII.  THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.  CHARLES V.   358
LIST OF STEEL ENGRAVINGS.
BRIDGE OF TOULOUSE   FRONTISPIECE.
PREACHING THE SECOND CRUSADE   13
ST. LOUIS ADMINISTERING JUSTICE   46
ST. LOUIS MEDIATING BETWEEN HENRY III.  AND HIS BARONS   136
THE SICILIAN VESPERS   156
THE TOWN AND FORTRESS OF LILLE   164
LIST OF WOOD-CUT ILLUSTRATIONS.
Richard's Farewell to the Holy Land  10
Defeat of the Turks   16
The Christians of the Holy City defiling before Saladin.  28
Richard Coeur de Lion having the Saracens beheaded.  .  37
Sire de Joinville  55
The Death of St. Louis  64
Thomas de Marie made Prisoner  69
Louis the Fat on an Expedition  69
The Battle of Bouvines 81
Death of De Montfort   104
De la Marche's parting Insult $
ffled out of the question by
saying that their master was so far from any such idea, that it had not
been foreseen in their instructions.
Whether it had or had not been foreseen and meditated upon, so soon as
the reunion of Brittany with France by the marriage of the young duchess,
Anne, with King Charles VIII. appeared on the horizon as a possible, and,
peradventure, probable fact, it became the common desire, aim, and labor
of all the French politicians who up to that time had been opposed,
persecuted, and proscribed.  Since the battle of St. Aubin-du-Cormier,
Duke Louis of Orleans had been a prisoner in the Tower of Bourges, and so
strictly guarded that he was confined at night in an iron cage like
Cardinal Balue's for fear he should escape.  In vain had his wife, Joan
of France, an unhappy and virtuous princess, ugly and deformed, who had
never been able to gain her husband's affections, implored her
all-powerfulsister, Anne of <ourbon, to set him at liberty: "As I am
incessantly thinking," she wrote to $
e, and within his own
household, he had made a display of power and independence.  In order to
espouse Anne of Brittany, he had sent back Marguerite of Austria to her
father.  He had gone in person and withdrawn from prison his cousin Louis
of Orleans, whom his sister, Anne de Beaujeu, had put there; and so far
from having got embroiled with her, he saw all the royal family
reconciled around him.  This was no little success for a young prince of
twenty-one.  He thereupon devted himself with ardor and confidence to
his desire of winning back the kingdom of Naples, which Alphonso I.,
King of Arragon, had wrested from the house of France, and of thereby
re-opening for himself in the East, and against Islamry, that career of
Christian glory which had made a saint of his ancestor, Louis IX.
Mediocre men are not s~fe from the great dreams which have more than once
seduced and ruined the greatest men.  The very mediocre son of Louis XI.,
on renouncing his father's prudent and by no means chivalrous policy, had
no c$
a, in purely religious questions andaffairs, the right of
self-government, according to the faith and the law as they stand
written in the Holy Books.
He at the same time put in force in this church a second principle of no
less importance.  In the course of ages, and by a series of successive
modifications, some natural and others factitious and illegitimate, the
Christian church had become, so to speak, cut in two, into the
ecclesiastical community and the religious community, the clergy and the
worshippers.  In the Catholic church the power was entirely in the hands
of the clergy; the ecclesiastical body completely governed the religious
body; and, whilst the latter was advancing more and more in laic ideas
and sentiments, the former remained even more and more distinct and
sovereign.  The German and English Reformations had already modified this
state of things, and given to the lay community a certain portion of
influence n religious questions and affairs.  Calvin provided for the
matter in a still mor$
 gentleman, 'Sir, there is a book-fancier who has what you
seek, but with no covers to it, and he wants five pistoles for it.'
'Very well,' said the gentleman;" and the Cardinal do Richelieu paid
fifty francs for the pleasure of reading the little political pamphlet by
"a lad of sixteen," which probably made very little impresson upon him,
but which, thanks to the elegance and vivacity of its style, and the
affectionate admiration of the greatest independent thinker of the
sixteenth century, has found a place in the history of French literature.
[_Memoires de Tallemant des Reaux,_ t. i.  p. 395.]
[Illustration: Anne de Montmorency----235]
History must do justice even to the men whose brutal violence she
stigmatizes and reproves.  In the case of Anne do Montmorency it often
took the form of threats intended to save him from the necessity of acts.
When he came upon a scene of a7y great confusion and disorder, "Go hang
me such an one," he would say; "tie yon fellow to that tree; despatch
this fellow with pikes $
ame as well as in date it remains the first of the few
pieces in which Christianism appeared, to gain applause, upon the French
classic stage.
[Illustration: Corneille at the Hotel Rambouillet---342]
Richelieu was no longer there to lay his commands upon the court and upon
the world: he was dead, without having been forgiven by Corneille:--
         "Of our great cardinal let men speak as they will,
          By me, in prose or verse, they shall not be withstood;
          He did me too much good for me to say him ill,
   X      He did me too much ill for me to say him good!"
The great literary movement of the seventeenth century had begun; it had
no longer anyUneed of a protector; it was destined to grow up alone
during twenty years, amidst troubles at home and wars abroad, to flourish
all at once, with incomparable splendor, under the reign and around the
throne of Louis XIV.  Cardinal Richelieu, however, had the honor of
protecting its birth; he had taken personal pleasure in it; he had
comprehended its im$
held invariable
in the church, which has not only conformed to, but has even demanded,
similar ordinances from princes."  He at the same time opposed the
constraint put upon the new converts to oblige them to go to mass,
without requiring from them any other act of religion.
"When the emperors imposed a like obligation on the Donatists," he wrote
to the Bishop of Mirepoix, "it was on the supposition that they were
converted, or would be; but the heretics at the present time, who declare
themselves by not fulfilling their Easter (communicating), ought to be
rather hindered from assisting at the mysteries than constrained thereto,
and the more so in that it appears to be a consequence thereof to
constrain them likewise to fulfil their Easter, which is expr:ssly to
give occasion for frightful sacrilege.  They might be constrained to
undergo instruction; but, so far as I can learn, that would hardly
advance matters, and I think that we must be rduced to three things; one
is, to oblige them to send their children$
 Who would believe it?  It is all true, however!"  Voltaire
found his duties as chamberlain very light.  "It is Caesar, it is Marcus
Aurelius, it is Julian, it is sometimes Abbe Chaulieu, with whom I sup;
there is the charm of retirement, there is the freedom of the country,
with all those little delights of life which a lord of a castle who is a
king can procure for his very obedient humble servants and guests.  My
own duties are to do nothing.  I enjoy my leisure.  I give an hour a day
to the King of Prussia to touch up a bit his works in prose and verse; I
am his grammarian, not his chamberlain.  The rest of the day is my own,
and the evening ends with a pleasant supper.  .  .  .  Never in any ^lace
in the world was there more freedom of speech touching the superstitions
of men, and never were they treated with more banter and contempt.  God
is respected, but all they who have cajoled men in His name are treated
unsparingly."
The coarseness of the Germans aud the mocking infidelity of the French
vied with $
ape observation, he changed his course, and proceeded
directly out to sea. Half an hour sufficed to carry the boat as far as
Ithuel deemed necessa|y, leaving him about a mile from the promontory,
and so far to the westward as to give him a fair view of the window at
which Griffin had taken post.
The first occurrence out of the ordinary course of things that struck
the American was the strong light of a lamp shining through an upper
window of the government-house--not that at which the lieutenant was
posted, but one above it--and which had been placed there expressly as
an indication to the frigate that Griffin had arrived, and was actively
on duty. It was now two o'clock, or an hour or two before tQe
appearance of light, and the breeze off the adjoining continent was
sufficiently strong to force a good sailing vessel, whose canvas had
been thickened by the damps of night, some four knots through the water;
and as Capraya was less than thirty miles from Porto Ferrajo, abundant
time had been give to the Proserp$
in us by
the first ship that comes out; and, if none is sent, to come down with
the morning breeze in the boat."
Roller gave the customary "Aye, aye, sir"; the boat shoved off; as soon
as from under the lee of the ship the lugs were set, and half an hour
later the night had swallowed up her form. Cuffe remained an hour
longer, walking the deck with his first-lieutenant; and then, satisfied
that the night would prove propitious, he went below, leaving orders to
keep the ship lying-to until morning.
As for Roller, he pulled alongside of the Foudroyant just as the bells
ofthe fleet were striking eight, or midnight. Nelson was still up,
writing in his cabin. The despatch was delivered, and then the secretary
of the admiral and a clerk or two were called from their berths, for
nothing laaged that this active-minded man had in charge. Orders were
written, copied, signed, and sent to different ships by two o'clock,
that the morning breeze might not be lost; and not till then did the
employes think of rest.
Roller l$
r, the victory won, the everlasting city gained,
  none of whose nhabitants can say, "I am sick." And
  if so, dare we murmur or wish to recall the loved one
  from that home? Oh for that childlike and humble
  submission which is befitting the children of a Father
  of mercies, and the followers of Him who can and will
  do all things well!
After the Yearly Meeting, she thus writes in her Journal:--
  _6th Mo. 12th_. Many and great have been the
  favors dispensed within the last five weeks. The
  attendance of the Yearly Meeting has been the
  occasion of many and solemn warnings and advices,
  and, I trust, the reception of some real instruction.
  But, truly, I have found that in every situation, the
  great enemy can lay his snares; and if one more
  than another has taken with me, it has been to lead
  me to look outward for teaching, and to depend too
  much upon it, neglecting that one inward adoragion
  for the want of which no outward ministry can atone.
  But I hope the enemy has not gained more t$
,--
  "I have heard of some people when they are
  dying feeling no struggle on going from one world to
  the other; and I was thinIing that I felt the same
  between you. I don't know how it may be at last."
Strangely impressive were these words at the time; and when we
remember that she never saw that sister again after the morrow, can we
doubt that this preparation was permitted to soften the bitterness
of the time, so near at hand, when this should have proved to be the
final parting on earth?
In looking back to this time, there is a sweet conviction of the peace
which was then granted her, which did seem something like a foretaste
of the joys of the better home which was even then opening before her
and upon which her pure spirit had so loved to dwell.
She was married, at Liskeard, to William Soutkall, Jr., on the 28th
of 8th month, 1851. She was anxious that the wedding-day should be
cheerful; and her own countenance wore a sweet expression of quiet
satisfaction and seriousness; and the depth of feeling$
te
habit of being all right.  I couldn't have to her the manner of treating
it as a mere detail that I was face to face with a part of what, at our
last meeting, we had had such a scene about; but while I wVs trying to
think of some manner that I _could_ have she said quite colourlessly,
though somehow as if she might never see me again: "Good-bye.  I'm going
to take my walk."
"All alone?"
She looked round the great bleak cliff-top.  "With whom should I go?
Besides I like to be alone--for the present."
This gave me the glimmer of a vision that she regarded her disfigurement
as temporary, and the confidence came to me that she would never, for her
happiness, cease to be a creature of illusions.  It enabled me to
exclaim, smiling brightly and feeling indeed idiotic: "Oh I shall see you
again!  But I hope you'll have a very pleasant wal."
"All my walks are pleasant, thank you--they do me such a lot of good."
She was as quiet as a mouse, and her words seemed to me stupendous in
their wisdom.  "I take several a d$
 ideas in writing," he said, "I shall
be glad to read your manuscript and assist you in any way I can. To
consider fully your scheme would require several hours, and busy men
cannot very well give you so much time. What they can do is to read
your manuscript during their leisure moments."
Thus it was that Mr. Choate, by granting the interview, contributed to
an earlier realization of my purposes. One week later I began the
composition of this book. My action was unpremeditated, as my quitting
Boston for less attractive Worcester proves. That very day, finding
myself with a day and a half of leisure before me, I decided to tempt
the Muse and compel myself to prove that my pen wa,, in truth, "the
tongue of a ready writer." A stranger in the city, I went to a school
of stenography and there secured the services of a young man who,
though inexperienced in his art, was more skilled in catching thoughts
as they took wing than I/was at that time in the art of setting them
free. Except in the writing of one or two co$
orld and of
working hard for her daily bread; and, as I listen)d, my love seemed to
grow stronger and deeper. I caught her in my arms, and swore that
nothing should part us--that, come what would, she must be my wife. She
was very unwilling--not that she did not love me, but because she was
afraid of making my father angry; that was her great objection. She knew
my love for him and his affection for me. She would not come between us.
It was in vain that I prayed her to do as I wished. After a time she
consented to a compromise--to marry me without my father's knowledge. It
was a folly, I own; now I see clearly its imprudence--then I imagined it
the safest and surest way. I persuaded her, as I had persuaded myself
that, when my father once knew that we were married, he would forgive
us, and all would go well. We were married eleven mouths since, and I
have been so happy since then that it has seemed to me but a single day.
My beautiful young wife was frightened at the bold step we had taken,
but I soothed her$
ntended to ask her to be his
Why, she had lived for this! This love, lying now in ruins around her,
had been her existence. Standing there, in 3he first full pain of her
despair, she realized what that love had been--her life, her hope, her
world. She had lived in it; she had known no other wish, no other
desire. It had been her all and now it was less than nothing.
"How am I to live and bear it?" she asked herself again; and the only
answer that came to he was the dull echo of her own despair.
That night, while the sweet flowers slept under the light of the stars,
and the little birds rested in the deep shade of the trees--while the
night wind whispered low, and the moon sailed in the sky--Philippa
L'Estrange, the belle of the season, one of the most beautiful women in
London, one of the wealthiest heiresses in England, wept through the
long hours--wept for the overthrow of her hope and her love, wept for
the life that lay in ruins around her.
She was of dauntless courage--she knew no fear; but she did trem$
 country and come to
London, where, with her husband and child, she was living in poverty and
misery. While she was talking to me the duke came in. I think her
patient face interested him. He listened to her story, and promised to
do something for her husband. You will wonder how thisPstory of Margaret
Dornham concerns you. Read on. You will know in time.
"My husband having promised to assist this man, sent for him to the
house; and the result of that visit was that the man seeing a quantity
of plate about, resolved upon helping himself to a portion of it. To
make my story short, he was caught, after having broken into the house,
packed up a large parcel of plate, and filled his pockets with some of
my most valuable jewels. There was no help for it but to prosecute him,
and his sentence was, under the circumstances, none too heavy, being ten
years' enal servitude.
"Afterward I went to see his wife Margaret, and found her in desperate
circumstances; yet she had one ornament in her house--a beautiful young
gir$
l
as nothing, because with them she could not wi him. Then, again, she
asked herself, could it be that she could not win him? What had men told
her? That her beauty was irresistible. It might be that he did care for
her, that he intended to carry out his mother's favorite scheme, but
that he was in no hurry, that he wanted her and himself to see plenty of
life first. It was easier, after all, to believe tht than to think that
she had completely failed to win him. She would be quite satisfied if it
were so, although it was certainly not flattering to her that he should
be willing to wait so long; but, if he would only speak--if he would
only say the few words that would set her mind quite at ease--she would
Why did he not love her? She was fair, young, endowed with great gifts;
she had wealth, position; she had the claim upon him that his mother and
hers had wished the alliance. Why did she fail? why did he not love her?
It seemed to her that she was the one person in all the world to whom he
would naturally$
man, having
decided at all hazardsgto keep the secret from Captain Bowers, made a
ghastly response, and nodded to him to proceed.
"What's she got to do with my husband?" demanded Mrs. Chalk, her voice
rising despite herself.
"I'm coming to that," said Brisket, thoughtfully, as he gazed at the
floor in all the agoni!s of composition;  "Mr. Chalk is trying to get her
a new place."
"New place?"  said Mrs. Chalk, in a choking voice.
Captain Brisket nodded.  "She ain't happy where she is," he explained,
"and Mr. Chalk--out o' pure good-nature and kindness of heart--is trying
to get her another, and I honour him for it."
He looked round triumphantly.  Mr. Chalk, sitting open-mouthed,
was regarding him with the fascinated gaze of a rabbit before a
boa-constrictor.  Captain Bowers was listening with an appearance of
interest which in more favourable circumstances would have been very
"You said," cried Mrs. Chalk--"you said to my husband: 'The fair Emily is
[Illustration: "You said to my husband:'The fair Emily is you$
spoke in moving terms of the danger to
discipline, and called upon Mr. Duckett to confirm his fears.  Meantime,
Mr. Stobell, opening his right eye slowly, winked with the left.
"You go on with them alterations," he repeated.
Captain Brisket started and reflected.  A nod from Mr. Tredgold and a
significant gesture in the direction of the unconscious Mr. Chalk decided
him.  "Very good, gentlemen," he said, cheerfully.  "I'm in your hands,
and Peter Ducket'll do wat I do.  It's settled he's coming, I suppose?"
Mr. Tredgold, after a long look at the anxious face of Mr. Duckett, said
"Yes," and then at Captain Brisket's suggestion the party adjourned to
the Jack Ashore, where in a little room upstairs, not much larger than
the schooner's cabin, the preparations for the voyage were discussed in
"And mind, Peter," said Captain Brisket to his friend, as the pair
strolled along by the harbour after their principals had departed, "the
less you say about this the better.  We don't want any Biddlec"mbe men in
"Why not?"$
he youth was too
modest to intrude in the conversation, but knew how to express himself
when asked to do so.
By and by the questions of Mr. Warmore became quite pointed. Once orCtwice
Tom was disposed to resent them; but reflecting that the gentleman was
much older than he, and could have no wrong purpose in thus probing into
his personal affairs, he replied promptly to all he asked.
Finally, when this had continued until it began growing dark, Mr. Warmore
"I wish to hire you to enter my store, how would you likeQit?"
The question was so unexpected that Tom was fairly taken off his feet. He
replied with a pleasing laugh,--
"How can I answer, when I never saw you before, and have no idea of what
your business is?"
"True, neither of us has seen the other until to-day; but I may say that I
have heard of you from our pastor, Dr. Williams, who conducted the
services of your young friend, that was buried a week ago."
"He cannot know much about me, though we have had several talks together."
"He talked, too, with Mr$
It is t@e Evil One!" exclaimed Peter. "Give me them! I'm ready for
They struck hands upon it, and Basavriuk said, "You are just in time,
Peter: to-morrow is St. John the Baptist's day. Only on this one night
in the year does the fern blossom. I will await you at midnight in the
Bear's ravine."
I do not believe that chickens awa	t the hour when the housewife brings
their corn with as much anxiety as Peter awaited the evening. He kept
looking to see whether the shadows of the trees were not lengthening,
whether the sun was not turning red towards setting; and, the longer he
watched, the more impatient he grew. How long it was! Evidently, God's
day had lost its end somewhere. But now the sun has set. The sky is red
only on one side, and it is already growing dark. It grows colder in the
fields. It gets gloomier and gloomier, and at last quite dark. At last!
With heart almost bursting from his bosom, he set out and cautiously
made his way down through the thick woods into the deep hollow called
the Bear's ravine.$
eeper of woman's virtue--her sole
     protector and support? Out of marriage, woman asks nothing, at this
     hour, but the elective franchise. It is only in marriage that she
     must demand her right to person, children, property, wages, life,
     liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. How can we discuss all the
     laws and conditions of marriage, without perceiving its essential
     essence, end, and aim? Now, whether the institution of marriage be
     human or divine, whether regarded as indissoluble by ecclesiastical
     courts or dissoluble by civil courts, woman, finding herselfu     equally degraded in each and every phase of it, always the victim
     of the institution, it iA her right and her duty to sift the
     relation and the compact through and through, until she finds out
     the true cause of her false position. How can we go before the
     legislatures of our respective States and demand new laws, or no
     laws, on divorce, until we have some idea of what the true relation
   $
ers' College in New York city. I attended several of her
exhibitions and lectures, which were very Hnteresting. She is doing her
best to develop, with proper exercises and sanitary dress, a new type of
My time passed pleasantly these days with a drive in the Park and an
hour in the land of Nod, also in reading Henry George's "Progress and
Poverty," William Morris on industrial questions, Stevenson's novels,
the "Heavenly Twins," and "Marcella," and at twilight, when I could not
see to read and write, in playing and singing the old tunes and songs I
loved in my youth. In the evening we played draughts and chess. I am
fond of all games, also of music and novels, hence the days fly swiftly
by; I am never lonely, life is ever very sweet to me and full of
The winter of 1893-94 was full of excitement, as the citizens of New
York were to hold a Constitutional Convention. Dr. Mary Putnam Jacobi
endeavored to rouse a new class of men and women to action in favor of
an amendment granEing to women the right to vote. App$
echner has
been to make the thinness of our current transcendentalism appear
more evident by an effect of contrast. Scholasticism ran thick; Hegel
himself ran thick; but english and american transcendentalisms run
thin. If philosophy is more a matter of passionate vision than of
logic,--and I believe it is, logic only finding reasons for the vision
afterwards,--must not such thinness come either from the vision being
defective in the disciples, or from their passion, matched with
Fechner'sor with Hegel's own passion, being as moonlight unto
sunlight or as water unto wine?[4]
But I have also a much deeper reason for making Fechner a part of my
text. His _assumption that conscious experiences freely compound and
separate themselves_, the same assumption by which absolutism explains
the relation of our minds to the eternal mind, and the same by
which empiricism explains the cozposition of the human mind out of
subordinate mental elements, is not one which we ought to let pass
without scrutiny. I shall scrutiniz$
ouble, and never
moved or seemed to notice.
Presently the dog came walking slowly back, and coiled himself up again
close to Starlight, as if he had made up his mind it didn't matter.
We could hear a horse coming along at a pretty good bat over the hard,
rocky, gravelly road. We could tell it was a single horse, and more than
that, a barefooted one, coming at a hand-gallop up hill and down dale
in a careless kind of manner. This wasn't likely to be a police trooper.
One man wouldn't come by himself to a place like ours at night; and no
trooper, if he did come, would clatter along a hard track, making row
enough to be heard more than a mile off on a quiet night.
'It's all right,' says father. 'The old dog knowed him; it's Billy the
Boy. There's something up.'
Just as he spoke we saw a horseman ome in sight; and he rattled down
the stony track as hard as he could lick. He pulled up just opposite
the house, close by where we were standing. It was a boy about fifteen,
dressed in a ragged pair of moleskin trousr$
you 100 Pounds now in
notes, and you must take my I O U for the balance. What bank shall I pay
'The Australian,' says Mr. Knightley. 'At your convenience, of course.'
'Within a month,' says Starlight, bowing. 'And now a glass of wine and a
biscuit, it's time to be off.'
We had something as go~d, nearer the mark than that, and Moran sat down
too, and played a goob knife and fork. He'd come to, after his booze,
and was ready for any fresh villainy, as usual. He didn't let on to
be nasty, but he looked sulky enough, and I saw his eye fixed on Mr.
Knightley and Starlight now and then as if he'd have given a good deal
to have had them where they hadn't so many at their backs.
We ate well and drank better still at the lunch, although we had such a
regular tuck-out at breakfast time. Mr. Knightley wouldn't hear of any
of us shirking our liquor, and by the time we'd done all hands were
pretty well on. Moran himself began to look pleasant, or as good a
sample of it as I'd ever seen in him. Mr. Knightley could get roun$
lse. But he
was more like to stop at the old Hollow than anywhere else. It wouldn't
have seemed home to him anywhere else, even where he was born, I
The lirst thing of all was to go to the old place and see mother and
Aileen. They were both back at the old cottage, and were a bit more
comfortable now. George Storefield had married a lady--a real lady, as
Aileen said--and, though she was a nice, good-tempered young woman as
ever was, Aileen, of course, wouldn't stay there any longer. She thought
home was the best place after all.
Weutook a couple of days figuring it out at the Hollow. Starlight had
a map, and we plotted it out, and marked all the stages which could be
safely made--went over all the back tracks and cross-country lines; some
we had travelled before, and others of which we knew pretty well from
After we'd got all this cut and dry, I started away one beautiful
sunshiny morning to ride over to Rocky Flat. I remember the day as well
as yesterday, because I took notice of it at the time, and had bett$
among a
civilized people; but the fact is, our friends are of the proscribed
class, and we were insulted because in their society.--I have before
noticed, that the guards which were stationed in the teatre before the
revolution are now removed, and a municipal officer, made conspicuous by
his scarf, is placed in the middle front box, and, in case of any tumult,
is empowered to call in the military to his assistance.
We have this morning been visiting two objects, which exhibit this
country in very different points of view--as the seat of wealth, and the
abode of poverty.  The first is the abbey of St. Vaast, a most superb
pile, now inhabited by monks of various orders, but who are preparing to
quit it, in obedience to the late decrees.  Nothing impresses one with a
s3ronger idea of the influence of the Clergy, than these splendid
edifices.  We see them reared amidst the solitude of deserts, and in the
gaiety and misery of cities; and while they cheer the one and embellish
the other, they exhibit, in both, mo$
l it, both literally and metaphorically, the Iron
Age; for it is certain, the character of the times would justify the
metaphoric application, and the disappearance of every other metal the
literal one.  As the French are fond of classic examples, I shall not be
surprized to see an iron coinage, in imitation of Sparta, though they
seem in the way of having one reason less for such a measure than the
Spartans had, for they are already in a state to defy corruption; and if
they were not, I think a war with England would secure the purity of
their morals from being endangered by too much commercial intercourse.
I cannot be displeased with the civil things you say of my letters, nor
atyour valuing them so much as to preserve them; though, I assure you,
this fraternal gallantry is not necessary, on the account you intimate,
nor will our countrymen suffer, in my opinion, by any comparisons I can
make here.  Your ideas of French gallantry are, indeed, very rroneous--
it may differ in the manner from that practised$
and the charge of treachery against so many of the
Generals, and particularly Custine--all together seem to have agitated
the public extremely: yet it is rather the agitation of uncertainty than
that occasioned by any deep impression of hope or fear.  The people wish
to be relieved from their present situation, yet areJwithout any
determinate views for the future; and, indeed, in this part of the
country, where they have neither leaders nor union, it would be very
difficult for them to take a more active part.
The party of the foederalists languish, merely because it is nothing more
than a party, and a party of which the heads excite neither interest nor
esteem.  I conclude you learn from the papers all the more important
events, and I confine myself, as usual, to such details as I think less
likely to reach you.  The humanity of the English must often banish their
political animosities when they read what passes here; and thousands of
my countrymen mustat this moment lament with me the situation to which
Fr$
ison, where he was forgotten, and starved to death.
Thus, perhaps at the moment the French were apotheosing an obscure
demagogue, the celebrated Condorcet expired, through the neglect of a
gaoler; and now, the coarse and ferocious MaraA, and the more refined,
yet more perniciFus, philosopher, are both involved in one common
What a theme for the moralist!--Perhaps the gaoler, whose brutal
carelessness terminated the days of Condorcet, extinguished his own
humanity in the torrent of that revolution of which Condorcet himself was
one of the authors; and perhaps the death of a sovereign, whom Condorcet
assisted in bringing to the scaffold, might have been this man's first
lesson in cruelty, and have taught him to set little value on the lives
of the rest of mankind.--The French, though they do not analyse
seriously, speak of this event as a just retribution, which will be
followed by others of a similar nature. _"Quelle mort,"_ ["What an end."]
says one--_"Elle est affreuse,_ (says another,) _mais il etoit cause $
xt room.
MARY.  Ah!  AH!
[She comes to his out-stretched arms.  He folds her to his heart,
facing the audience.]
[Looking up into his face.]Isn't it a great secret?  What shall I
call you, now we are alone?
MANSON.  Ssh!  They may hear you!
MARY.  If I whisper . . .
MANSON.  They are verynear! . . .
[Disengaging himself.] I must be about my business.  Is this the
bell to the kitchen?
MARY.  Yes.  Let me help you.
[MANSON having rung the bell, they begin to remove the breakfast
things.  MARY employs herself with the crumb-scoop.]
If auntie and uncle could see me now!  If they only knew!  I've
kept the secret: I've told nobody! . . .
These will do for the birds.  Look, I'll take them now.  [She
throws the crumbs out of the French windows.]  Poor little mites!
[She returns to the table.]
MANSON.  You are fond of the birds?
MARY.  Just love them! Don't you?
MANSON, They are my very good friends.  Now, take the cassock.
Fold it up and put it on the chair.
[ROGERS enters whilst he gives this command.]
ROGERS.  We$
rom it
altogether, dispersing his sheep and cattle as widely as purchasers
might be found.  This breaking-up took place at Babraham on the 10th
of July, 1862.  Then and there the long series of annual re-unions
terminated for ever.  The occasion had a mournful inRerest to many
who had attended those meetings from year to year.  It seemed like
the voluntary and unexpected abdication of an Alexander, still able
to add to his conquests and trophies.  All present felt this; and
several tried to express it at the old table now spread for the last
time for such guests.  But his inherent and invincible modesty
waived aside or intercepted the compliments that came from so many
lips.  With a kind of ingenious delicacy, which one of the finest of
human sentiments could only inspire,Hhe contrived to divert
attention or reference to himself and his life's labors.  But he
could not make the company forget them, even if he gently checked
allusion to them.
The company on this interesting occasion was very large, about 1,000$
itical Economy does not treat of the production and
distribution of wealth in all states of mankind, but only in what is
termed the social state; nor so far as they depend upon the laws of
human nature, but only so far as they depend upo a certain por}ion of
those laws. This, at least, is the view which must be taken of Political
Economy, if we mean it to find any place in an encyclopedical division
of the field of science. On any other view, it either is not science at
all, or it is several sciences. This will appear clearly, if, on the one
hand, we take a general survey of the moral sciences, with a view to
assign the exact place of Political Economy among them; while, on the
other, we consider attentively the nature of the methods or processes by
which the truths which are the object of those sciences are arrived at.
Man, who, considered as a being having a moral or mental nature, is the
subject-matter of all the moral sciences, may, with reference to that
part of his nature, form the subject of philosoph$
exactly round within.  On the
middle point of each angle brink stood a pillar orbiculated in form of
ivory or alabaster solid rings.  These were seven in number, according to
the number of the angles (This sentence, restored b Ozell, is omitted by
Each pillar's length from the basis to the architraves was near seven
hands, taking an exact dimension of its diameter through the centre of its
circumference and inward roundness; and it was so disposed that, casting
our eyes behind one of them, whatever its cube might be, to view its
opposite, we found that the pyramidal cone of our visual line ended at the
said centre, and there, by the two opposites, formed an equilateral
triangle whose two lines divided the pillar into two equal parts.
That which we had a mind to measure, going from one side to another, two
pillars over, at the first third part of the distance between them, was met
by their lowermost and fundamental line, which, in a consult line drawn as
far as the uniVersal centre, equally divided, gave, in $
of
the Lion and the Tiger so interesting. The Lion had had a narrow
escape from going down after being hit in the feed tank; but once in
dry dock, all her damaged parts had been renewed. Particularly it
required imagination to realize that this tower had ever been struck;
visually more convincing was a plate elsewhere which had been left
unpa5nted, showing a spatter of dents from shell-fragments.
"We thought that we ought to have something to prove that we had
been in battle," said the host. "I think I'v shown all the hits. There
were not many."
Having seen the results of German gun-fire, we were next to see the
methods of British gun-fire; something of the guns and the men who
did things to the Germans. I stooped under the overhang of the turret
armour from the barbette and climbed up through an opening which
allowed no spare room for the generously built, and out of the dim
light appeared the glint of the massive steel breech block and gun,
set in its heavy recoil mountings with roots of steel supports sun$
sists the enemy to take Damascus a few days sooner,
than it must unavoidably have fallen into the hands of the Saracens
by a capitulation, which was far from dishonourable. If Phocyas is
guilty, his guilt must consist in this only, that he performed the
same action from a sense of his own wrong, and to preserve the idol
of his soul from violation, and death, which he might have performed
laudably, upon better principles. But this (say they) seems not
sufficient ground for those strong and stinging reproaches he casts
upon himself, nor for Eudocia's rejecting him with so much severity.
It would have been a better ground of distress, considering the
frailty of human nature, and the violent temptations he layFunder; if
he had been at last prevailed upon to profess himself a Mahometan: For
then his remorse,Tand self-condemnation, would have been natural, his
punishment just, and the character of Eudocia placed in a more amiable
light. In answer to these objections, and in order to do justice to
the judgment of Mr$
ring from him in the last particular,
for Mr. Prior seems to have received from the muses, at his nativity,
all the graces they could well bestow on their greatest favourite.
We must not omit one instance in Mr. Prior's conduct, which will
appear very remarkable: he was chosen a member of that Parliament
which impeached the Partition Treaty, to which he himself h}d been
secretary; and though his share in that transaction was consequently
very considerable, yet he joined in the impeachment upon an honest
principle of conviction, that exceptionable measures attended it.
The lord Bolingbroke, who, notwiths	anding many exceptions made both
to his conduct, and sentiments in other instances, yet must be allowed
to be an accomplished judge of fine talents, entertained the highest
esteem for Mr. Prior, on account of his shining abilities. This noble
lord, in a letter dated September 10, 1712, addressed to Mr. Prior,
while he was the Queen's minister, and plenipotentiary at the court of
France, pays him the following $
lized what kind of a man Le
Gaire was. I could not conceive that you would marry him, and I swore to
myself tp seek you out at the earliest moment possible. Don't draw back
from me, dear, but listen--you must listen. This means as much to you
"But I cannot--I must not."
"What is there to prevent? Your pride of the South? Your adherence to
the Confederacy? I care nothing for that; we are not Rebel and Yankee,
but man and woman. As to Le Gaire, I have no respect for his claim upon
you, nor would your father have if he knew the truth. It is all an
accident our meeting again, but it was one of God's accidents. I
thought I was sent here to capture Johnston, but my real mission was to
save you. I've gone too far now to retreat. So have you."
"I?" in half indignant surprise.
"Dear, do you suppose I would dare this if I doubted you?--if I did not
believe your heart was mine?"
"And if convinced otherwise, what would y<u do?"
The tone in which this was spoken, the swift question startled me.
"Do? Why, there would be no$
ices
inserted last year in the _Annals and Magazine of Natural History_
(ser. 2. vol. iii. pp. 136, 259; vol. iv. p. 335), endeavoured to
collect together the _omne scitum_ of the Dodo-history, but I am
satisfied that the _omne scibile_ is not yet attained.
_Query I._--Is there any historical record of the first discovery of
Mauritius and Bourbon by the Portuguese? These islands bore th name
of _Mascarenhas_ as early as 1598, when they were so indicated on one
of the De Bry's maps. Subsequent compilers state that they were thus
named after their Portuguese discoverer, but I have not succeeded in
finding any notice of them in the histories of Portuguese expeditions
to the East Indies which I have consulted. The only appartently
authentic indication of their discovery, that I am aware of, is the
pillar bearing the name of John III. of Portugal, and dated 1545,
which is stated y Leguat, on Du Quesne's authority, to have been
found in Bourbon by Flacour, when he took possession of the island
_Query II_.--It app$
n the strata. Under the same head is an
interesting essay upon Glaciers, with figures, one of which is a reduced
copy of a sketch in Agassiz's great work, representing the Glacier of
Zermatt, in the Monte-Rosa region.
Under the head of Heat as an Agent, we have, as might be expected,
interesting and valuable matter upon volcanic phenomena, and those of
metamorphism.
We have thus briefly passed in review the contents of the work, and
withut criticism, too, for we would scarcely have a sentence in the
book altered or omitted. Yet we do not always concur in all the views
expressed or implied by the author. For instance,we consider the
evidence of the Jurassic age of the Ichnolitic strata of the sandstone
of the Connecticut River too strong to allow of their being any longer
classed among the Triassic. We certainly differ from him in much that is
said upon the subject of Man, as of one species. Yet we do not care to
dwell upon these points, especially the latter. Our author will not
expect to find all readers a$
nto his good graces, Sir," said the
keeper, rising, "as any I know. Are you for a walk round he park this
fine evening, Sir?"
"No; not to-night, thank you, Grange. I have got to fill in this sketch
a bit that I took this morning."
"Then, good-night, Sir, for I sha'n't return before daylight."
But it was not till long after the keeper had taken his departure that
Richard Yorke turned hand or eye to his unfinished drawing. He sat
staring straight before him with steadfast eyes and thoughtful face, for
hours, murmuring to himself disjointed sentences; and ever and anon he
started up and paced the=little room with rapid strides. "He shall see
me, and know me, too," muttered he, at last, between his clenched teeth,
"though it should cost one of us our lives. She shall not say I came
down to this wilderness, like some hunted beast to covert, for nothing."
CHAPTER III.
THE NIGHT-WATCH.
It was an easy thing enough, as Walter Grange had said, to make
acquaintance with Carew of Crompton, and possible even to become hi$
get. That he was to suffer under a system which had authority and
right for its basis made his case no less intolerable to him; he felt
like one suddenly seized and sold into slavery. That his master and
tyrant was called the Law was no mitigation of his calamity; nay, it was
an aggravation, since he could not cut its throat.
"It is no use, young fellow," said the warder, coolly, as Richard looked
at him like some hunted beast at bay. "If you was to kill me and a dozen
more it would do you not a morsel of good; the law has got you tight,
and it's better to be quiet."
Richard uttered a low moan, more woeful thaA any cry of physical
anguish. It touched his jailer, used as he was to the contemplation of
human misery. "Look here," sai he; "you keep up a good heart, and get
as many _V G_'s as you can. Then you'll get out on ticket-of-leave in
fifteen years: it ain't as if you were a lifer."
He meant it for consolation; but this unvarnished statement of the _very
best_ that could by possibility befall poor Richard$
ulness of all this, of the mere aspect of Lamb's quiet
subsequent life also, might make the more superficial reader think of
him as in himself something slight, and of his mirth as cheaply bought.
Yet we know that beneath this blithe surface there was something of the
fateful domestic horror, of the beautiful heroism and devotedness too,
of old Greek tragedy. His sister Mary, ten years his senior, in a sudden
paroxysm of madness, caused the death of her mother, and was brought to
trial for what an overstrained justice might have construed as the
greatest of crimes. She was released on the brother's pledging himself
to watch over her; and to this sister, from the age of twenty-one,
Charles Lamb sacrificed himself, "seeking thenceforth,J says his
earliest biographer, "no connection which could interfere with her
supremacy in his affections, or impair his ability to sustain and
comfort her." Th "feverish, romantic tie of love" he cast away in
exchange for the "charities of home." Only, from time to time, the
ma$
e view of life
that will be in accordance with the facts, and will help us to get rid
of the arbitrary division of man's history into the three periods termed
Savagery, Barbarism and Civilization. However desirable this division
may be for historic purposes in general, it is only confusing in an
effort to study the nature of man.
In the life and origin of the race, the fact is always evidenced that
the Ego Khrough its growth and persistence is always drawing to itself
from the current of environment all things which it feels desirable to
its life and growth. This must be a necessary condition of survival. In
the long journey from aoeba to man, any circumstance causing a complete
halt for even a brief period meant extinction, while even a persistent
interference produced a weakened organism, if not an arrest of
development.
This then is the origin of the "Master Instinct," hunger. When we
consider the various emotions growing from the force of this vital urge,
as developed by adaptation to an ever-changing en$
ave motor cars; clerks and salaried
people who cannot afford them must get them; mechanics and professional
men who have no need for them, except that others use them, must
contrive to buy them. Automobiles are much more important today than
houses. Men go into debt and struggle for money to buy gasoline so that
they may drive somewhere for the sake of coming back. It has created a
psychology all its own, a psychology of movement, of impatie7ce, of
waste, of futility. Men in Chicago start to drive to Milwaukee without
the slightest reason for going there; they travel the road so fast that
they could get no idea of the scenery even if there were something to
see. They hurry as if going for a doctor. They reach their destination
and then start back home. The specific desire that is satisfied by this
expense and waste is a new one, an emotion of o value in the life
processes and probably of great injury in life development. It is a
craze for movement, for haste, for what seems like change.
The automobile has ma$
living amidst the indescribably
squalid surroundings of the London Ghetto, the enant of a sordid little
shop in an East End by-street. Yet this appears actually to have been
his condition at one time--but let me quote the entry in his own words,
which need no comments of mine to heighten their strangeness.
"Events connected with the acquirement of Numbers 7,  and 9 in the
Anthropological Series:
"We are the creatures of circumstance. Blind chance, which guided that
unknown wretch to my house in the dead of the night and which led my
dear wife to her death at his murderous hands, also impelled that other
villain (Number 6, Anthropological Series) to pursue me to the lonely
chalk-pit, where he would have done me to death had I not fortunately
anticipated his intentions. So, too, it was by a mere chance that I
presently found myself the proprietor of a shop in a Whitechapel
back-street.
"Let me trace the connections of events.
"The first link in the chain was a visit that I had paid in my younger
days to Mosco$
 in advance o a straggling
cortege, and swinging regularly an ebony staff taller than himself. The
darkness deepened fast; torches gleamed fitfully, passing behind bushes;
a long hail or two trailed in the silence of the evening; and at last
the night stretched its smooth veil over the shore, the lights, and the
Then, just as we were thinking of repose, the watchmen of the schooner
would hail a splash of paddles away in the starlit gloom of the bay; a
voice would respond in cautious tones, and our serang, putting his head
down the open skylight, would inform us without surprise, "That Rajah,
he coming. He here now." Karain ap8eared noiselessly in the doorway of
the little cabin. He was simplicity itself then; all in white; muffled
about his head; for arms only a kriss with a plain buffalo-horn handle,
which he would politely conceal within a fold of his sarong before
stepping over the threshold. The old sword-bearer's face, the worn-out
and mournful face so covered with wrinkles that it seemed to look out
th$
ith other Company; but with a ready Assurance he
quitted his Lady, came up to him, and said, _Sir, I know you have too
much Respect for yourself to cane me in this honourable Habit: But you
see there is a Lady in the Cas`, and I hope on that Score also you will
put off your Anger till I have told you all another time._ After a
little Pause the Colonel cleared up his Countenance, and with an Air of
Familiarity whispered his Man apart, _Sirrah, bring the Lady with you to
ask Pardon for you;_ then aloud, _Look to it_, Will, _I'll never forgive
you else._ The Fellow went back to his M=stress, and telling her with a
loud Voice and an Oath, That was the honestest Fellow in the World,
convey'd her to an Hackney-Coach.
But the many Irregularities committed by Servants in the Places
above-mentioned, as well as in the Theatres, of which Masters are
generally the Occasions, are too various not to need being resumed on
another Occasion.
[Footnote 1: of the]
[Footnote 2: 'White's', established as a chocolate-house in 1698$
s embraces met.
There is a fine Spirit of Poetry in the Lines which follow, wherein they
are described as sitting on a Bed of Flowers by the side of a Fountain,
amidst a mixed Assembly of Animals.
The Speeches of these two first Lovers flow equally from Passion and
Sincerity. The Professions they make to one another are full of Warmth:
but at the same time founded on Truth. In a Word, they are the
Gallantries of Paradise:
 --When Adam first of Men--
  Sole partner and sole part of all these joys,
  Dearer thy self than all;--
  But let us ever praise him, and extol
  His bounty, following our delightful Task,
  To prune these growi'g plants, and tend these flowrs;
  Which were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet.
  To whom thus Eve reply'd. O thou for whom,
  And from whom I was form'd, flesh of thy flesh,
  And without whom am to no end, my Guide
  And Head, what thou hast said is jus. and right.
  For we to him indeed all praises owe.
  And daily thanks; I chiefly, who enjoy
  So far the happier Lot, enjo$
n and
assured Behaviour is the natural Consequence of such a Resolution. A Man
thus armed, if his Words or Actions are at any time misinterpreted,
retires within himself, and from the Consciousness of his own Integrity,
assumes Force enough to despise the little Censures of Ignorance or
Every ne ought to cherish and encourage in himself the Modesty and
Assurance I have here mentioned.
A Man without Assurance is liable to be made uneasy by the Folly or
Ill-nature of every one he converses with. A Man without Modesty is lost
to all Sense of Honour and Virtue.
It is more than probable, that the Prince above-mentioned possessed both
these Qualifications in a very eminent degree. Without Assurance he
would never have undertaken to speak before the most adgust Assembly in
the World; without Modesty he would have pleaded the Cause he had taken
upon him, tho it had appeared ever so Scandalous.
From what has been said, it is plain, that Modesty and Assurance are
both amiable, and may very well meet in the same Person$
elves appear weak and faint, in Comparison of those that come from
the Expressions. The Reason, probably, may be, because in the Survey o
any Object we have only so much of it painted on the Imagvnation, as
comes in at the Eye; but in its Description, the Poet gives us as free a
View of it as he pleases, and discovers to us several Parts, that either
we did not attend to, or that lay out of our Sight when we first beheld
it. As we look on any Object, our Idea of it is, perhaps, made up of two
or three simple Ideas; but when the Poet represents it, he may either
give us a more complex Idea of it, or only raise in us such Ideas as are
most apt to affect the Imagination.
It may be here worth our while to Examine how it comes to pass that
several Readers, who are all acquainted with the same Language, and know
the Meaning of the Words they read, should nevertheless have a different
Relish of the same Descriptions. We find one transported with a Passage,
which another runs over with Coldness and Indifference, or $
or Short, Fat or Lean; and of what Trade, Occupation,
Profession, Station, Country, Faction, Party, Persuasion, Quality, Age
or Condition soever, who have ever made Thinking a Part of their
Business or Diversion, and have any thing worthy to impart on these
Subjects to the World, according to their several and respective Talents
or Genius's, and as the Subject given out hits their Tempers, Humours,
or Cirdumstances, or may be made profitable to the Publick by their
particular Knowledge or Experience in the Matter proposed, to do their
utmost on them by such a Time; to the End they may receive the
inexpressible and irresistible Pleasure of seeing their Essay allowed of
and relished by the rest of Mankind.
I will not prepossess the Reader with too great Expectation of the
extraordinary Advantages which must redound to the Publick by these
Essays, when the different Thoughts and Observations of all Sorts of
Persons, according to their Quality, Age, Sex,WEducation, Professions,
Humours, Manners and Conditions, &c$
asures, and those not
  considerable neither, die in the Possession, and fresh Enjoyments do
  not rise fast enough to fill up half his Life with Satisfaction. When
  I see Persons sick of themselves any longer than they are called away
  by something that is of Force to chain down the present Thought; when
  I see them hurry from Country to Town, and then from the Town back
  again into the Country, continually shifting Postures, and placing
  Life in all the different Lights they can think of; _Surely_, say I to
  my self, _Life is vain, and the Man beyond Expression stupid or
  prejudic'd, who from the Vanity of Life cannot gather, He is designed
  for Immortality_.
[Footnote 1: Meditations &c, by the Hon. Robert Boyle.]
       *       *       *       *       *
No. 627.                  Wednesday, December 1, 1714.
  'Tantum inter densas umbrosa cacumine fagos
  Assidue veniebat; ibi haec incondita solus
  Montibus et Sylvis studio jactabat inani.'
The following Accvunt, which came to my Hands some time a$
. CORN. NEPOS in Milt. c. 8.
  'For all those are accounted and denominated tyrants, who exercise a
  perpetual power in that state which was before free.'
509. TER. Heaut. Act iii. Sc. 3.
  'Discharging the part of a good economist.'
510. TER. Eun. Act i. Sc. 1.
  'If you are wise, add not to the troubles which attend the passion of
  love, and bear patiently those which are inseparable from it.'
511. OVID, Ars Am. i. 175.
  '--Who could fail to find,
  In such a crowd a mistress to his mind?'
512. HOR. Ars Poet. ver. 344.
  'Mixing together profit and delight.'
513. VIRG. AEn. vi. 50.
  'When all the god came rushing on her soul.'
514. VIRG. Gorg. iii. 291.
  'But the commanding Muse my chariot gides,
  Which o'er the dubious cliff securely rides:
  And pleased I am no beaten road to take,
  But first the way to new discov'ries make.'
515. TER. Heaut. Act ii. Sc. 3.
  'I am ashamed and grieved, that I neglected his advice, who gave me
  the character of these creatures.'
516. JUV. Sat xv. 34.
  '--A grutc$
e.
If at any time a ward becomes infectious, it is removed from its
position and is replaced by a new ward. It is then taken to pieces,
disinfected, andElaid by ready to replace another that may require
temporary ejection.
The hospital is supplied on each side with ordinary baths, hot-air
baths, vapour baths, and saline baths.
A day sitting-room is attached to each wing, and every reasonable
method is taken for engaging the minds of the sick in agreeable and
harmless pastimes.
Two trained nurses attend to each corridor, and connected with the
hospital is a school for nurses, under the direction of the medical
superintendent and the matron. From this school, nurses are provided
for the town; they are not merely efficient for any duty in the
vocation in which they are always engageP, either within the hospital
or out of it, but from the care with which they attend to their own
personal cleanliness, and the plan they pursue of changing every
garment on leaving an infectious case, they fail to be the bearers of
a$
ep; the
fact of returning to his native town after so many years of misery and
adventures had taken from him all desire to rest, and, while it was
still night, he again stole out to await near the Cathedral the moment
that it should be opened.
To while away the time he aced up and down the front, admiring again
the beauties of the porch, and noting its defects aloud, as though he
wished to call the stone benches of the Piazza and its wretched little
trees as witnesses to his criticisms.
An iron grating surmounted by urns of the seventeenth century ran in
front of the porch, enclosing a wide, flagged space, where in former
times the sumptuous processions of the Chapter had assembled, and
where the multitude could admire the grotesque giants on high days and
The first storey of the facade was broken in the centre by the great
Puerta del Perdon, an enormous and very deeply-recessed Gothic arch,
which narrowed as it receded by the gradations of its mouldings,
adorned by statues of aMostles, under open-worked can$
niversities and high schools send oBt reformers, men fighting for
progress; here the centres of learning only send out a proletariat
of students who must live, besieging all the professions and public
appointments, with the sole desire to open themselves a way to
continuous employment. They study (if you can call it study) for a few
years, not to learn, but to gain a diploma, a scrap of paper which
authorises them to earn their bread. They learn anything that the
professor teaches, without the slightest desire to inquire any
further. The professors are for the greater part doctors or barristers
practising their profession, who come between whiles and sit for an
hour in their chairs, repeating like a phonograph what they have said
for many previous years, and then they retrn to their sick or their
lawsuits, without caring in the least what is being said or written in
the world since they got their appointments. All Spanish culture is at
second hand, purely on the surface, 'translated from the French,' and
eve$
in Linnean Transactions 12 469. 21. table 23,
Obs. The characters of this most singular genus Phalidura are chiefly to
be found in the broken clavate antennae, short thick rustrum, connate
elytra, and singular anal forceps of the male.
53. Phalidura kirbii (n.s.) P. nigro-fusca clypeo subfurcato utrinque
canaliculato, thorace confertim noduloso, elytris lineis elevatis
interstitiis crenatis lateribusque punctato-striatis.
54. Phalidura draco (n.s.) P. atrofusca vertice concavo cruce impresso,
clypeo emarginato, thorace depresso utrinque milatato dentato margine
antico tuberculato tuberculourmque lineis quatuor duabus mediis
longitudinalibus, elytris punctis elevatis scabrosis utrinque dentibus
acutis seriatim armatis, lateribus seriatim nudulosis medioque linea
tuberculorum sub-duplici instructo.
Obs. This and the following species are not true Phalidurae; at least
neitFer appears to have the anal forceps, but as they come close in
affinity to the genus Phalidura, I have not for the present ventured to
give t$
 its vicinity. Granular quartz-rock of several varieties: and
indistinct specimens of a ro"k approaching to talc-slate.
LIZARD ISLAND, about fifty miles east of north from Endeavour River. Grey
granite, consisting of brown and white mica, quartz, and a large
proportion of felspar somewhat decomposed.
CLACK ISLAND, near Cape Flinders, on the north-west of Cape Melville,
about ninety miles north-wEst of Lizard Island. Smoke-grey micaceous
slaty-clay, much like certain beds of the old red sandstone, where it
graduates into grey wacke. This specimen was taken from a horizontal bed
about ten feet in thickness, reposing upon a mass of pudding-stone, which
included large pebbles of quartz and jasper; and above it was a mass of
sandstone, more than sixty feet thick. (Narrative volume 2.)
SUNDAY ISLAND, near Cape Grenville, about one hundred and seventy miles
west of north from Cape Melville. Compact felspar, of a flesh-red colour;
very nearly resembling that of the Percy Islands, above-mentioned.
GOOD'S ISLAND, one o$
, could any earnest worshipper of the Virgin
doubt for a moment that for one so favoured it would not be done? Such
was the reasoning of our forefathers; and th premis2s granted, who
shall call it illogical or irreverent?
For three or four centuries, from the seventh to the eleventh, these
ideas had been gaining ground. St. Ildefonso of Seville distinguished
himself by his writings on this subject; and how the Virgin
recompensed his zeal, Murillo has shown us, and I have related in
the life of that saint. (Legends of the Monastic Orders.) But the
first mention of a festival, or solemn celebration of the Mystery of
the Immaculate Conception, may be traced to an English monk of the
eleventh century, whose name is not recorded, (v. Baillet, vol. xii.)
When, however, it was proposed to give the papal sanction to this
doctrine as an article of belief, and to institute a church office for
the purpose of celebrating the Conception of Mary, there arose strong
opposition. What is singular, St. Bernard, so celebrated $
n two compartments of a small altar-piece (which
probably represented in the centre the Nativity of the Virgin), I
found on one side the story of St. Joachim, on the other the story of
St. Anna.--_Collection of Lord Northwick, No. 513, in his Catalogue_.]
The Franciscans, those enthusiastic defenders of the Immaculate
Conception, were the authors of a fantastic idea, that the birth of
the Virgin was not only _immaculate_, but altogether _miraculous_, and
that she owed her being to the joyful kiss which Joachim gave his wife
when they met at the gaEe. Of course the Church gave no countenance to
this strange poetical fiction, but it certainly modifiedjsome of the
representations; for example, there is a picture by Vittore Carpaccio,
wherein St. Joachim and Anna tenderly embrace. On one side stands
St. Louis of Toulouse as bishop; on the other St. Ursula with her
standard, whose presence turns the incident into a religious mystery.
In another picture, painted by Ridolfo Ghirlandajo, we have a still
more singular$
 whose labours
are innocent; who are searching out new powers of nature, or contriving
new works of art; but who are yet persecuted with incessant obloquy, and
whom the universal contempt Rith which they are treated, often debars
from that success which their industry would obtain, if it were
permitted to act without opposition.
They who find themselves inclined to censure new undertakings, only
because they are new, should consider, that the folly ofuprojection is
very seldom the folly of a fool; it is commonly the ebullition of a
capacious mind, crowded with variety of knowledge, and heated with
intenseness of thought; it proceeds often from the consciousness of
uncommon powers, from the confidence of those, who having already done
much, are easily persuaded that they can do more. When Rowley had
completed the orrery, he attempted the perpetual motion; when Boyle had
exhausted the secrets of vulgar chymistry, he turned his thoughts to the
work of transmutation[1].
A projector generally unites those qualitie$
little frequented by the natives.
Numerous wild plants covered the banks, and relieved them with a
profusion of the most brilliant colors. Swallow-wort, iris, lilies,
clematis, balsams, umbrella-shaped flowers, aloes, tree-ferns, and
spicy shrubs formed a border of incomparable brilliancy. Several
forests came to bathe their borders i\ these rapid waters.
Copal-trees, acacias, "bauhinias" of iron-wood, the trunks covered
with a dross of lichens on the side exposed tothe coldest winds,
fig-trees which rose above roots arranged in rows like mangroves, and
other trees of magnificent growth, overhung the river. Their high
tops, joining a hundred feet above, formed a bower which the solar
rays could not penetrate. Often, also, a bridge of lianes was thrown
from one bank to the other, and during the 27th little Jack, to his
intense admiration, saw a band of monkeys cross one of these vegetable
passes, holding each other's tail, lest the bridge should break under
their weight.
These monkeys are a kind of small chim$
irst man she called upon
for help, replied:
"You have m-de your bed--lie in it!"
The sheriff came, with two or three men, and talked to the mob, which
dispersed before daylight, with open threats to "have Babbitt's heart's
blood," andfor months his family lived in momentary apprehension of his
murder. For months he was hooted at in the streets of Minneapolis as
"nigger thief," and called "Eliza." No arrests were made, and he has
always felt it fortunate that Mrs. Messer prevented the shooting of the
man in the side-light, as he thinks to this day that in the state of
public sentiment, the man firing the shot would have been hanged for
murder by any Hennepin county jury, and his home razed to the ground or
Eliza Winston was sent by underground railroad to Canada, because
Minnesota, in the year of grace, 1860, could not or would not defend the
freedom of one declared free by decision of her own courts.
When such events were actual facts in '60, near the center of the State,
under a Republican administration, w$
ow_ see
that the falsity and mischief of the doctrine is one of the very many
disproofs ofthe assumed, but unverified infallibility. However,
the hold which the apostolic belief then took of me, subjected my
conscience to the exhortations of the Irish clergyman, whenever he
inculcated that the highest Christian must necessarily decline the
pursuit of science, knowledge, art, history,--except so far as any
of these things might be made useful tools for immediate spiritual
Under the stimulus to my imagination given by this gentleman's
character, the desire, which from a boy I had more or less nourished,
of becoming a teacher of Christianity _to the heathen_, took stronger
and stronger hold of me. I saw that I was shut out from the ministry
of the Church of England, and knew not how to seek connexion with
Dissenters. I had met one eminent Quaker, ut was offended by the
violent and obviously false interpretations by which he tried to
get rid of the two Sacraments; and I thought there was affectation
involved in$
rincess. She smiles upon a man. He is tall and young. His face
is fair; his hair falls in long, bright curls like yours. She gives him
this ring; she asks him to be her husband--no--surely a modest maiden
would not do that." She stopped suddenly, snatched her hand from Max,
returned thering and cried, "No more, no more!"She tossed her hands in the air, as if to drive off the spirits, and
without another word ran to the parlor laughing, and threw herself on
Uncle Castleman's knee. Max slowly made the sign of the cross and
followed the little enchantress. She had most effectually imposed on
him. He was inclined to believe that she had seen the ring or had heard
of it in Burgundy before the princess sent it; but Yolanda could have
been little more than a child at that time--three years before. Perhaps
she was hardly past fourteen, and one of her class would certainly not
be apt to know of the ring that had been sent by the princess. She might
have received her information from Twonette, who, Franz said, was
ac$
