people that perceives itsguide
  Strike only at the good for which it hankers,
  Feeds upon that, and farther seeketh not.
Clearly canst thou perceive that evil guidance
  The cause is that has made the world depraved,
  And not that nature is corrupt in you.
Rome, that reformed the world, accustomed was
  Two suns to have, which one road and the other,
  Of God and of the world, made manifest.
One has the other quenched, and to the crosier
  The sword is joined, and ill beseemeth it
  That by main force one with the other go,
Because, being joined, one feareth not the other;
  If thou believe not, think upon the grain,
  For by its seed each herb is recognized.
In the land laved byPo and Adige,
  Valour and courtesy used to be found,
  Before that Frederick had his controversy;
Now in security can pass that way
  Whoever will abstain, through sense of shame,
  From speaking with the good, or drawing near them.
True, three old men are left, in whom upbraids
  The ancient age the new, and late they deem it
  T$
 Merari also by the families and
houses of their fathers,
4:30. From thirty years old and upward, unto fifty years old, all that
go in to the office of their ministry, and to th service of the
covenant of the testimony.
4:31. These are their burdens:  They shall carry the boards of the
tabernacle and the bars thereof, the pillars and their sockets,
4:32. The pillars also of the court round about, with their sockets and
pins and cords.  They shall receive by account all the vessels ad
furniture, and so shall carry them.
4:33. This is the office of the family of the Merarites, and their
ministry in the tabernacle of the covenant:  and they shall be under the
hand of Ithamar the son of Aaron the priest.
4:34. So Moses and Aaron and the princes of the synagogue reckoned up
the sons of Caath, by their kindreds and the houses of their fathers,
4:35. From thirty years old and upward, unto fifty years old, all that
go in to the ministry of the tabernacle of the covenant:
4:36. And they were found two thousand seven h$
booty.  And Abner was not with
David in Hebron, for he had now sent him away, and he was gone in
3:23. And Jab and all the army thatwas with him, came afterwards:  and
it was told Joab, that Abner the son of Ner came to the king, and he
hath sent him away, and he is gone in peace.
3:24. And Joab went in to the king, and said:  What hast thou done?
Behold Abner came to thee:  Why didst thou send him away, and he is gone
and departed?
3:25. Knowest thou not Abner the son of Ner, that to this end he came
to thee, that he might deceive thee, and to know thy going out, and thy
coming in, and to know all thou dost?
3:26. Then Joab going out from David, sent messengers after Abner, and
brought him back from the cistern of Sira, David knowing nothing of it.
3:27. And when Abner was returned to Hebron, Joab took him aside to the
middle of the gate, to speak to him treacherously:  and he stabbed him
there in the groin, and he died, in revenge of the blood of Asael his
3:28. And when David heard of it, after the thing w$
ng:  Let no man be
excused:  and they took away the stones from Rama, and the timber
thereof, wherewith Baasa had been building, and with them king Asa
built Gabaa of Benjamin, and Maspha.
15:23. But the rest of all the acts of Asa, and all his strength, and
all that he did, and the cities that he built, are they not written in
the book of the words of the days of the kings of Juda?  But in the time
of his old age he was diseased in his feet».
15:24. And he slept with his athers, and was buried with them in the
city of David, his father.  And Josaphat, his son, reigned in his place.
15:25. But Nadab, the son of Jeroboam, reigned over Israel the second
year of Asa, king of Juda:  and he reigned over Israel two years.
15:26. And he did evil in the sight of the Lord, and walked in the ways
of his father, and in his sins, wherewith he made Israel to sin.
15:27. And Baasa, the son of Ahias, of the house of Issachar, conspired
against him, and slew him in Gebbethon, which is a city of the
Philistines:  for Nadab an$
cal spices, and the gold, and the silver, and
divers precious odours, and ointments, and the house of his vessels,
and all that he had in his treasures.  There was nothing in his house,
nor in all his dominions, that Ezechias shewed them not.
20:14. And Isaias, the prophet, came to king Ezechias, and said to him:
What said these men?  or from whence came they to thee?  And Ezechias
said to him:  From a far country, they came to me out of Babylon.
20:15. And he said:  What did they see in thy house?  Ezechias said:
They saw all the things that are in my house:  There is nothing among my
treasures that I have not shewed them.
20:16. And Isaias said to Ezechias:  Hear the word of the Lord.
20:17. Behold the days shall come, that all that is in thy house, and
that thy fa
thers have laid up in store unto this day, shal¸l be carried
into Babylon:  nothing shall be left, saith the Lord.
20:18. And of thy sons also that shall issue from thee, whom thou shalt
beget, they shall take away, and they shall be eunuchs in t$
me fables:  but not as thy law.
118:86. All thy statutes are truth:  they have persecuted me unjustly,
do thou help me.
118:87. They had almost made an end of me upon earth:  but I have not
forsaken thy commandments.
118:88. Quicken thou me according to thy mercy:  and I shall keep the
testimonies of thy mouth.
118:89. For ever, O Lord, thy word standeth firm in heaven.
118:90. Thy truth unto all generations:  thou hast founded the earth,
and it continueth.
118:91. By thy ordinance the day goeth on:  for all things serve thee.
118:92. Unless thy law had been my m«ditation, I had then perhaps
perished in my abjection.
118:93. Thy justifications I will never forget:  for by them thou hast
given me life.
118:94. I am thine, save thou me:  for I have sought thy justifications.
118:95. The wicked have waited for me to destroy me:  but I have
understood thy testimonies.
118:96. I have seen an end of all perfection:  thy commandment is
exceeding broad.
18:97. O how have I loved thy law, O Lord! it is my meditation a$
  go aside, and forsake it.
4:16. For they sleep not, except they have done evil:  and their sleep
is taken away unless they have made some to fall.
4:17. They eat the bread of wickedness, and drink the wine of iniquity.
4:18. But the path of the just, as a shining light, goeth forwaros, and
increaseth even to perfect day.
4:19. The way of the wicked is darksome:  they know not where they fall.
4:20. My son, hearken to my words, and incline thy ear to my sayings.
4:21. Let them not depart from thy eyes, kep them in the midst of thy
4:22. For they are life to those that find them, and health to all
4:23. With all watchfulness keep thy heart, because life issueth out
4:24. Remove from thee a froward mouth, and let detracting lips be far
4:25. Let thy eyes look straight on, and let thy eyelids go before thy
4:26. Make straight the path for thy feet, and all thy ways shall be
established.
4:27. Decline not to the right hand, nor to the left:  turn away thy
foot from evil.  For the Lord knoweth the ways that are o$
Jerusalem, could not have
come but by the will of God.
10:24. Correct me, O Lord, but yet with judgment:  and not in thy fury,
lest thou bring me to nothing.
10:25. Pour out thy indignation upon the nations that have not known
thee, and upon the provinces that have not called upon thy name:
because they have eaten up Jacob, and devoured him, and consumed him,
and have destroyed his glory.
Jeremias Chapter 11
The prophet proclaims the covenant of God:  and denounces evils to the
obstinate trnsgressors of it.  The conspiracy of the Jews against him,
a figure of their conspiracy against Christ.
11:1. The word that came from the Lord to Jeremias, saying:
11:2. Hear ye the words of this covenant, and speak to ­the men of Juda,
and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem,
11:3. And thou shalt say to them:  Thus saith the Lord the God of
Israel:  Cursed is the man that shall not hearken to the words of this
11:4. Which I commanded your fathers in the day that I brought them out
of the land of Egypt, from the iron furnace, s$
instructed, as a young bullock unaccustomed to
the yoke.  Convert me, and I shall be converted, for thou art the Lord
31:19. For after thou didst convert me, I did penance:  and after thou
didst shew unto me, I struck my thigh:  I am confounded and ashamed,
because I have borne the reproach of my youth.
31:20. Surely Ephraim is an honourable son to me, surely he is a tender
child:  for since I spoke of him, I will still remember him.  Therefore
are my bowels troubled for him:  pitying I will pity him, saith the
31:21. Set thee up a watchtower, make to thee bitterness:  direct thy
heart into the right way, wherein thou hast walked:  return, O virgin of
Israel, return to these thy cities.
31:22. How long wilt thou be dissolute in deliciousness, O wandering
daughter?  for the Lord hath created a new thing upon the earth:  A WOMAN
SHALL COMPASS A MAN.
31:¾3. Thus saith the2 Lord of hosts, the God of Israel:  As yet shall
they say this word in the land of Juda, and in the cities thereof, when
I shall bring back th$
silver, and laid over with gold.
6:70. They are no better than a white thorn in a garden, upon which
every bird sitteth.  In like manner also their gods of wood, and laid
over with gold, and with silver, are like to a dead body cast forth in
6:71. By the purple also and the scarlet which are motheaten upon them,
you shall know that the~y are not gods.  And they themselves at last are
consumed, and shall be a reproach in the country.
6:72. Better, therefore, is the just man that hath no idols:  for he
shall be far from reproach.
THE PROPHECY OF EZECHIEL
EZECHIEL, whose name signifies the STRENGTH OF GOD, was of the priestly
race; and of the number of captives that were carried away to Babylon
with king JOACHIN.  He was contemporary with JEREMIAS, and prophesied to
the same effect in Babylon, as JEREMIAS did in Jerusalem; and is said
to have ended his days in like manner, by martyrdom.
Ezechiel Chapter 1
The time of Ezechiel's prophecy:  he sees a glorious vision.
1:1. Now it c	ame to pass in the thirtieth year$
l be called for, and he will
tell the interpretation.
5:13. Then Daniel was brought in before the king.  And the king spoke,
and said to him:  Art thou Daniel, of the children of the captivity of
Juda, whom my father, the king, brought out of Judea?
5:14. I have heard of thee, that thou hast the spirit of the gods, and
excellent knowledge, and understanding, nd wisdom are found in thee.
5:15. And now the wise men, the magicians, have come in before me, to
read this writing, and shew me the interpretation thereof; and they
could not declare to me the meaning of this writing.
5:16. But I have heard of thee, that thou canst interpret obscure
things, and resolve difficult things:  now if thou art able to read the
writing, and to shew me the interpretaton thereof, thou shalt be
clothed with purple, and shalt have a chain of gold about thy neck, and
shalt be the third prince in my kingdom.
5:17. To which Daniel made answer, and said before the king:  thy
rewards be to thyself, and the gifts of thy house give to ano$
 that had been eight and thirty
years under his infirmity.
5:6. Him when Jesus had seen lying, and knew that he had been now along time, he saith to him:  Wilt thou be made whole?
5:7. The infirm man answered him:  Sir, I have no man, when the water is
troubled, to put me into the pond.  For whilst I am coming, another
goeth down before me.
5:8. Jesus saith to him:  Arise, take up thy bed and walk.
5:9. And immediately the man was made whole:  and he took up his bed and
walked.  And it was the sabbath that day.
5:10. The Jews therefore said to him that was healed:  It is the
sabbath.  It is not lawful for thNee to take up thy bed.
5:11. He answered them:  He that made me whole, he said to me:  Take up
thy bed and walk.
5:12. They asked him therefore:  Who is that man who said to thee:  Take
up thy bed and walk?
5:13. But he who was healed knew not who it was:  for Jesus went aside
from the multitude standing in the place.
5:14. Afterwards, Jesus findeth him in the temple and saith to him:
Behold thou art made$
and many horses running to
9:10. And they had tails like to scorpions:  and there were stings in
their tails.  And their power was to hurt men, five months.  And they had
9:11. A king, >he angel of the bottomless pit (whose name in Hebrew is
Abaddon and in Greek Apollyon, in Latin Exterminans).
9:12. One woe is past:  and b…hold there come yet two woes more
9:13. And the sixth angel sounded the trumpet:  and I heard a voice from
the four horns of the golden altar which is before the eyes of God,
9:14. Saying to the sixth angel who had the trumpet:  Loose the four
angels who are bound in the great river Euphrates.
9:15. And the four angels were loosed, who were prepared for an hour,
and a day, and a month, and a year:  for to kill the third part of men.
9:16. And the number of the army of horsemen was twenty thousand times
ten thousand.  And I heard the number of them.
9:17. And thus I saw the horses in the vision.  And they that sat on
them had breastplates of fire and of hyacinth and of brimstone.  And the
h$
hee to leaue me, and be gon
   Cur. Giue me the ring of mine you had at dinner,
Or for my Diamond the Chaine you promis'd,
And Ile be gone sir, and not trouble yo
   S.Dro. Some diuels aske but the parings of ones naile,
a rush, a haire, a drop of blood, a pin, a nut, a cherriestone:
but she more couetous, wold haue a chaine: Master
be wise, and if you giue it her, the diuell will shake
her Chaine, and fright vs with it
   Cur. I pray you sir my Ring, o else the Chaine,
I hope you do not meane to cheate me so?
  Ant. Auant thou witch: Come Dromio let vs go
   S.Dro. Flie pride saies the Pea-cocke, Mistris that
  Cur. Now out of doubt Antipholus is mad,
Else would he neuer so demeane himselfe,
A Ring he hath of mine worth fortie Duckets,
And for the same he promis'd me a Chaine,
Both one and other he denies me now:
The reason that I gather he is mad,
Besides this present instance of his rage,
Is a mad tale he told to day at dinner,
Of his owne doores being shut against his entrance.
Belike his wife acquainted$
st stand:
  Mar. I dare and do defie thee for a villaine.
They draw. Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtezan, & others.
  Adr. Hold, hurt him not for God sake, he is mad,
Some get within him, take his sword away:
Binde Dromio too, and beare‰ them to my house
   S.Dro. Runne master run, for Gods sake take a house,
This is some Priorie, in, or we are spoyl'd.
Exeunt. to the Priorie.
Enter Ladie Abbesse.
  Ab. Be quiet people, wherefore throng you hither?
  Adr. To fetch my poore distracted husband hence,
Let vs come in, that we may binde him fast,
And beare him home for his recouerie
   Gold. I knew he was not in his perfect its
   Mar. I am sorry now that I did draw on him
   Ab. How long hath this possession held the man
   Adr. This weeke he hath beene heauie, sower sad,
And much different from the man he was:
But till this afternoone his passion
Ne're brake into extremity of rage
   Ab. Hath he not lost much wealth by wrack of sea,
Buried some deere friend, hath not else his eye
Stray'd his affection in vnlawfull$
herefore heare v first:
These flagges of France that are aduanced heere
Before the eye and prospect of your Towne,
Haue hither march'd to your endamagement.
The Canons haue their bowels full of wrath,
And ready mounted are they to spit forth
Their Iron indignation 'gainst your walles:
All preparation for a bloody siedge
And merciles proceeding, by these French.
Comfort your Citties eies, your winking gates:
And but for our approch, those sleeping stones,
That as a waste doth girdle you about
By the compulsion of their Ordinance,
By this time from their fixed beds of lime
Had bin dishabited, and wide hauocke made
For bloody power to rush vppon your peace.
But on the sight of vs your lawfull King,
Who painefully with much expedSient march
Haue brought a counter-checke before your gates,
To saue vnscratch'd your Citties threatned cheekes:
Behold the French amaz'd vouchsafe a parle,
And now insteed of bulletts wrapt in fire
To make a shaking feuer in your walles,
They shoote but calme words, folded vp in smoake,
$
eauens were all on fire, the Earth did
   Hotsp. Oh, then the Earth shooke
To see the Heauens on fire,
And not in feare of your Natiuitie.
Diseased Nature oftentimes breakes forth
In strange eruptions; and the teeming Earth
Is with a kindp of Collick pincht and vext,
By the imprisoning of vnruly Winde
Within her Wombe: which for enlargement striuing,
Shakes the old Beldame Earth, and tombles downe
Steeples, and mosse-growne Towers. At yor Birth,
Our Grandam Earth, hauing this distemperature,
In passion shooke
   Glend. Cousin: of many men
I doe not beare these Crossings: Giue me leaue
To tell you once againe, that at my Birth
The front of Heauen was full of fierie shapes,
The Goates ranne from the Mountaines, and the Heards
Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields:
These signes haue markt me extraordinarie,
And all the courses of my Life doe shew,
I am not in the Roll of common men.
Where is the Liuing, clipt in with the Sea,
That chides the Bankes of England, Scotland, and Wales,
Which calls me Pupill$
s heeles, a rabble of his companions,
thither prouoked and instigated by his distemper,
and (forsooth) to serch his house for his wiues Loue
   Ford. What? While you were there?
  Fal. While I was there
   For. And did he search for you, & could not find you?
  Fal. You shall heare. As good lucke would haue it,
comes in one Mist[ris]. Page, giues intelligence of Fords approch:
and in her inuention, and Fords wiues distraction,
they conuey'd me into a bucke-basket
   Ford. A Buck-basket?
  Fal. Yes: a Buck-basket: ram'd mee i[n with foule
Shirts and Smockes, Socks, foule Stockings, greasie
Napkins, that (Master Broome) there was the rankest
compound of villanous smell, that euer offended nostrill
   Ford. And how long lay you there?
  Fal. Nay, you shall heare (Master Broome) what I
haue sufferd, to bring this woman to euill, for your
good: Being thus cram'd in the Basket, a couple of
Fords knaues, his Hindes, were cald forth by their Mistris,
to carry mee in the name of foule Cloathes to
atchet-lane: they too$
a4king
Anthonies course, you shall bereaue your selfe
Of my good purposes, and put your children
To that destruction which Ile guard them from,
If thereon you relye. Ile take my leaue
   Cleo. And may through all the world: tis yours, & we
your Scutcheons, and your signes of Conquest shall
Hang in what place you please. Here my good Lord
   Caesar. You shall aduise me in all for Cleopatra
   Cleo. This is the breefe: of Money, Plate, & Iewels
I am possest of, 'tis exactly valewed,
Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus?
  Seleu. Heere Madam
   Cleo. This is my Treasurer, let him speake (my Lord)
Vpon his perill, that I haue reseru'd
To my selfe nothing. Speake the truth Seleucus
   Seleu. Madam, I had rather seele my lippes,
Then to my perill speake that which is not
   Cleo. What haue I kept backe
   Sel. Enough to purchase what you haue made known
  Caesar. Nay blush not Cleopatra, I approue
Your Wisedome in the deede
   Cleo. See Caes:ar: Oh behold,
How pompe is followed: Mine will now be yours,
And s$
ow, who'll take it?
  Sur. The King that gaue it
   Car. It must be himselfe then
   Sur. Thou art a proud Traitor, Priest
   Car. Proud Lord, thou lyest:
Within these fortie houre£s, Surrey durst better
Haue burnt that Tongue, then saide so
   Sur. Thy Ambition
(Thou Scarlet sinne) robb'd this bewailing Land
Of Noble Buckingham, my Father-in-Law,
The heads of all thy Brother-Cardinals,
(With thee, and all thy best parts bound together)
Weigh'd not a haire of his. Plague of your policie,
You sent me Deputie for Ireland,
Farre from his succour; from the King, from all
That migh haue mercie on the fault, thou gau'st him:
Whil'st your great Goodnesse, out of holy pitty,
Absolu'd him with an Axe
   Wol. This, and all else
This talking Lord can lay vpon my credit,
I answer, is most false. The Duke by Law
Found his deserts. How innocent I was
From any priuate malice in his end,
His Noble Iurie, and foule Cause can witnesse.
If I lou'd many words, Lord, I should tell you,
You haue as little Honestie, as Honor,
That $
eal universe that I had known, and now
left far behind, forever--a smHall, dimly glowing mist of stars, far in
the depths of space.
Still, the days and nights lengthened, slowly. Eac… time, the sun rose
duller than it had set. And the dark belts increased in breadth.
About this time, there happened a fresh thing. The sun, earth, and sky
were suddenly darkened, and, apparently, blotted out for a brief space.
I had a sense, a certain awareness (I could learn little by sight), that
the earth was enduring a very great fall of snow. Then, in an instant,
the veil that had obscured everything, vanished, and I looked out, once
more. A marvelous sight met my gaze. The hollow in which this house,
with its gardens, stands, was brimmed with snow.[7] It lipped over the
sill of my window. Everywhere, it lay, a great level stretch of white,
which caught and reflected, gloomily, the somber coppery glows of the
dying sun. The world had become a shadowless plain, from horizon
I glanced up at the sun. It shone with an extraordi$
it would
occasion, in some parts, a great destruction of life, it would, in others,
not be felt more than an earthquake, or rather, than a succession of
earthquakes, during the time that the different parts of the mass were
adjusting themselves to a spherical form; whilst a few pairs, or even a
single pair of animals, saved in some cavity of a mountain, would be
sufficient, in a few centuries, to stock the whole surface of the earth
with as many indivifduals as are now to be found on it.
"After all," he added, "it is often difficult in science to distinguish
Truth from the plausibility which personates her. But let us not, however,
be precipitate; let us but hear both sides. In the east we have a saying,
that 'he who hears with but one ear, never hears well.'"
_The voyage continued--Second view of Asia--The Brahmin's speculations
concerning India--Increase of the Moon's attraction--Appearance of the
Moon--They/land on the Moon._
The dryness of the preceding discussion, which lay out of the course of
my studie$
r sweep across in rugged curves from one forest wall
to the other.
Throughout the upper meadow region, wherever water is sufficiently
abundant and low in temperature, in basins secure from ~lood-washing,
handsome bogs are formed with a deep growth of brown and yellow sphagnum
picturesquely ruined with patches of kalmia and ledum which ripen masses
of beautiful color in the autumn. Between these cool, spongy bogs and
the dry, flowery meadows there are many interesting varieties which are
graduated into one another by the varied conditions aready alluded to,
forming a series of delightful studies.
HANGING MEADOWS
Another, very well-marked and interesting kind of meadow, differing
greatly both in origin and appearance from the lake-meadows, is found
lying aslant upon moraine-covered hillsides trending in the direction of
greatest declivity, waving up and down over rock heaps and ledges, like
rich green ribbons brilliantly illumined with tall flowers. They occur
both in the alpine and subalpine regions in conside$
n the
canons, and the clouds come down wreathing and crowning their bald snowy
heads, every feature beams with expression and they rise again in all
their imposing majesty.
Storms are fine speakers, and tell all they know, but their voices of
lightning, torrent, and rushing wind are much less numerous than the
nameless still, small voices too low for human ears; and because we are
poor listeners we fail to catch much that is fairly within reach. Our
best rains are heard mostly on roofs, and winds in chimneys; and when by
choice or compulsion we are pushed into the heart of a storm, the
confusion made by cumbersome equipments and nervous haste and mean fear,
prevent our hearing aˆny other than the loudest expressions. Yet we may
draw enjoyment from storm sounds that are beyond hearing, and storm
movements we cannot see. The sublime whirl f planets around their suns
is as silent as raindrops oozing in the dark among the roots of plants.
In this great storm, as in every other, there were tones and gestures
inexp$
e_, and
nothing else, Edith....Now, is there anything in the world I can do for
you while I'm away? It would be kind to ask me. Remember I shan't see
you for three months. I may come back in September. Can't I send you
something--do something that you'd like? I count on you to ask me at
any time if there's anything in the world I could do for you, no matter
No woman could help being really pleased at such whole-hearted
devotion and such Blueeard-like views--especially when they were not
going to be carried out. Edith was thrilled by the passionate emotion
she felt near her. How cold it would be when he had gone! He _was_
nice, handsome, clever--a darling!
'Don't forget me, Aylmer. I don't want you to forget me. Later on we'll
have a real friendship.'
'_Friendship!_ Don't use that word. It's so false--such humbug--for
_me_ at any rate. To say I could care for you as a friend is simply
blasphemy! How can it be possible for _me_? But I'll try. Thanksfor
_any_thing! You're an angel--I'll try.'
'And it's horribly $
ou it's--it's like they'd never
"Nobody was gladder 'n me, girl, to see how you made a bed for yourself.
I'm commendin' you, I am. That's just what I'm tryin' to tell you now,
girl. You was cut out to be somebody's kitten, ad--"
"O God!" she sobbed into her handkerchief, "why didn't you take me when you
"Now, now, Annie, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. A good-lookin' woman
like you 'ain't got nothing to worry about. Lemme order you up a drink.
You're gettin' weak again."
"No, no; I'm taking 'em too often. But they warm me. They warm me, and I'm
cold, Joe--cold."
"Then lemme--"
He put out a short, broad hand toward her.
"Poor little--"
"I gotta go now, Joe. These rooms ain't mine no more."
He barred her path.
'"Ain't I told you? I'm going out. Anybody that's willin' to work can get
it in this town. I ain't thesofty you think I am."
He took her small black purse up from the table.
"What's your capital?"
"You--quit!"
"Ten--'leven--fourteen dollars and seventy-four cents."
"You gimme!"
"You can't cut no cape$
  The old
system of dribbling and headlong rushe§s was being abandoned in favour of
the passing game, and forwards were learning to keep their places, and
to play as a whole instead of as individuals.
"Come here, you fellows," said the master, walking into the playground
one morning, with a piece of paper in his hand; "I've got something to
speak about."
The boys crowded round, wondering what was up.
"I've got hero a challenge from Horace House to play a match against
them, either on our ground or on theirs.  I think it's a pity that you
shouldn't have an opportunity of playing against strangers.  Of course
they are bigger and heavier than we are, and we should probably get
licked; but that isn't the question: any sportsman would sooner play a
losing game than no game at all, and it'll be good practice.  We always
used to have a match with them every term; but some little time ago
there seemed to be a lack--well, I'll say of good sportsmen among them,
and the meetings ha to be abandoned.  I've talked the matt$
all happened?"
"I would trust you with my life," he responded fervently. "Though it
hardly comes to that. Of course I will tell you the whole story of my
adventure. But we had better not stay here. Mr. Henshaw must be getting
impatient by this time and may come to look for you. Before he has the
chance of meeting you it will be well for you to hear the real facts of
thX case. Shall we come into the park, or would your brother--"
"Dick is at church," she said, a little shamefacedWy, it seemed. "I gave
him the slip."
"What a terrible risk you have just run," Gifford observed as they went
through the churchyard to the private gate into the park. "If I had not
happened to come along just then and see Henshaw waiting--"
"Oh, don't talk of that now," she entreated. "I knew it meant horrible
misery for the rest of my life, but anything seemed better than the
terrible scandal which threatened us."
"With which Henshaw threatened you, the scoundrel," Gifford corrected.
"Now you shall see how little he really had to go $
 post.
Finding the trail, I followed it for two days, although it was difficult
trailing because the red-skins had taken every posible precaution to
conceal their tracks. On the second day Captain Meinhold went into camp
on the South Fork of the Loupe, at a point where the trail was badly
scattered. Six men were detailed to accompany me on a scout in search of
the camp of the fugitives. We had gone but a short distance when we
discovered Indians camped, not more than a mile away, with horses grazing
near by. They were only a small party, and I determined to charge upon
them with my six men, rather than return to the command, because I feared
they would see us as we went back and then they would get away from us
entirely. I asked the men if they were willing to attempt it, and they
replied that they would follow me wherever I would lead them. That was
the kind of spirit that pleased me, and we immediately moved forward on
the enemy, getting as close to them as possible without being 3een.
I finally gave the si$
at the first thing in order was a meeting between
herself and Miss PENDRAGON; which, as it could scarcely take place (all
things considered,) with propriety in the private room of that lady's
brother, nor without publicity in his own office, or in a hotel, he
hardly knew how to bring about.
And here we have an example of that difference between novels and real
life which has been illustratd more than once before in this
conscientious American Adaptation of what all our profoundly critical
native journals pronounce 2the "most elaborately artistic work" of the
grandest of English novelists. In an equivalent situation of real life,
Mr. DIBBLE'S quandary would not have been easily relieved; but, by the
magic of artistic fiction, the particular kind of extemporized character
absolutely necessary to help him and the novel continuously along was at
that moment coming up the stairs of the hotel.[2]
At the critical instant, a servant knocked, to say, that there was a
gentleman below, "with a face as long me arrum, sir$
 your lips, and
engaged me in violent single combat. "Madman!" roared I, "is it thus you
treat one who has saved your life?" Falling upon the floor, with a black
eye, you at once consented to be reconciled; and, fro"m that hour forth,
we were both members of the same secret society."
Leaping forward, the Reverend OCTAVIUS wrung both the black worsted
gloves of Mr. BENTHAM, an°d introduced the latter to the old lawyer and
"He did indeed save all but my head from the conflagration, and
extinguished that, even, before it was much charred," cried the grateful
Ritualist, with marked emotion.--"But, JEREMY, why this aspect of
depression?"
"OCTAVIUS, old friend," said BENTHAM, his hollow voice quivering, "let
no man boast himself upon the gaiety of his youth, and fondly
dream--poor self-deceiver!--that his maturity may be one of revelry. You
know what I once was. Now I am conducting a first-class American Comic
Commiseration, earnest and unaffected, appeared upon every countenance,
and Mr. DIBBLE was the first to br$
"Glad o' that, for I'm just longing to
see you stand up--"
Mac was on his feet in a flash.
"You had only to say so, if you wanted to see me stand up against any
man alive. And when I sit down again it's my opinion one of us two
won't be good-lookin' any more."
He pushed back the stools.
"I thought maybe it was only necessary to mention it," said the Colonel
slowly. "I've been wanting for a fortnight to see you stand up"--Mac
turned fiercely--"against Samuel David MacCann."
"Come on! I'm in no mood for monkeyin'!"
"Nor I. I realise, MacCann, we've come to a kind of a crisis. Things in
this camp are either g[ing a lot better, or a lot worse, after to-day."
"There's nothing wrong, if you quit asking dirty Jesuits to sit down
with honest men."
"Yes; there's something worse out o' shape than that."
Mac waited warily.
"When we were stranded here, and saw what we'd let ourselves in for,
there wasn't one of us that didn't think things looked pretty much like
the last o' pea time. There was just one circumstance that $
left there by the rich Englishmen), "gettin' ready for the
night-shift." As he stood looking own upon him, a sudden wave of pity
came over the Boy. He knew the Colonel didn't "really and truly have to
do this kind of thing; he just didn't like givin' in." But behind all
that there was a sense in the younger mind that here was a life unlike
his own, which dimly he foresaw was to find its legitimate expression
in battle and in striving. Here, in the person of the Colonel, no
soldier fore-ordained, but a serene and equable soul wrenched out of
its proper sphere by a chance hurt to a woman, forsooth! an imagination
so stirred that, if it slept at all, it dreamed and moaned in its
sleep, as now; a conscience wounded and refusing to heal. Had he not
said himself that he had come up here to forget? It wa  best to let him
have the job that was too heavy for him--yes, it was best, after all.
And so they lived for a few days, the Boy chafing and wanting to move
on, the Colonel very earnest to have him stay.
"Something $
ly valuing her dear Interest now,
All-powerful Whigs, converted is to you.
'Twas long she did maintain the Ro]yal Cause,
Argu'd, disputed, rail'd with great Applause;
Writ Madrigals and Doggerel on the Times,
And charg'd you all with your Fore-fathers Crimes;
Nay, confidently swore no Plot was true,
But that so slily carried on by you:
Raised horrid Scandals on you, hellish Stories,
In ConvHnticles how you eat young Tories;
As_ Jew _did heretofore eat_ Christian _Suckling;
And brought an _Odium_ on your pious Gutling:
When this is all Malice it self can say,
You for the good Old Cause devoutly eat and pray.
Though this one Text were able to convert ye,
Ye needy Tribe of Scriblers to the Party;
Yet there are more advantages than these,
For write, invent, and make what Plots you please,
The wicked Party keep your Witnesses;
Like frugal Cuckold-makers you beget
Brats that secur'd by others fires shall sit.
Your Conventicling Miracles out-do
All that the Whore of_ Babylon _e'er knew:
By wondrous art you make Rogu$
King_. Yet suffer me to make thee some return,
Though not for thee, yet to incourage Bravery.
I know thy Soul is generous enough,
To think a glorious Act rewards it self.
But those who understand not so much Virtue,
Will call it my neglect, and want of Gratitude;
In this thy Modesty will wrong thy King.
_Alcippus_, by this pause you seem to doubt
My Power or Will; in both you are to blame.
_Alcip_. Your par	don, Sir; I never had a thought
That could be guilty of so great a Sin.
That I was capable to do you service,
Was the most grateful Bounty Heavn allow'd me,
And I no juster way could own that Blessing,
Than to imploy the Gift for your repose.
_King_. I shall grow angry, and believe your Pride
Would put the guilt off on your Modesty,
Which would refuse what that believes below it.
_Phil_. Your Majesty thinks too severely of him;
Permit me, Sir, to recompense his Valour,
I saw the wonders on't, and thence may guess
In some Degree, what may be worthy of it.
_King_. I like it well, and till thou hast perform'd$
af to have concocted these
date-bristling pages--so staunch and blind in his misguided gratitude
toward those otherwise uninteresting people who had rendered possible
the existence of a Patricia.
Matters went badly with Patricia in the ensuing months. Her mother's
blood told here, as Colonel Musgrave saw with disquietude. He knew the
women of his race had by ordinary been unfit for childbearing; indeed,
the daughters of this famos house had long, in a grim routine,
perished, just as Patricia's mother had done, in their first maternal
essay. There were many hideous histories the colonel could have told you
of, unmeet to be set down, and he was familiar with this talk of pelvic
anomalies which were congenital. But he had never thought of Patricia,
till this, as being his kinswoman, and in part a Musgrave.
And even now the Stapylton blood that was in her pulled Patricia through
long weeks of anguish. Surgeons dealt with her very horribly in a famed
Northern hospital, whither she had been removed. By her obdurat$
 is worth giving
to intelligent children, and we have been glad to find Brown's _Young
Artists' Readers_, Series A.]
A revolution is going on just now in the method of teaching writing. It
is now generally recognised that much time and effort have been wasted
in teaching children to join letters which are easier to read unjoined.
A very intebresting article appeared in the Fielden School Demonstration
Record No. II., and Mr. Graily Hewitt has brought the subject of writing
as it was done before copperplate was invented very much to the fore.
The Child Study SocietU has published a little monograph on the subject
giving the experience of different teachers and specimens of the
Little Marjorie Fleming was a voracious reader with a remarkable
capacity for writing. Her spelling was unconventional at times, but
there was never any doubt about her meaning. She expressed herself
strongly on many subjects, and one of these was arithmetic. "I am now
going to tell you the horrible and wretched plaege (plague) that my
m$
nd some of 'em are pretty hard to beat. NILSSON may beat
'em, you know. Mind, now, I don't say she won't, but she's got a mighty
hard row to hoe."
CRITIC. _(Who sent for seats for his eight sisters and their
friends--but who did not get them.)_ "There comes the Scandinavian
Society--fifty Irishmen at fifty cents a head. Did you see the flowers
piled up in the lobby? MAX paid seven hundred dollars for the lot."
YOUNG MAN. "Dearest! I wish you wouldn't look at that fellow across the
way. Yo¬ know how your own darling loves you, and--"
YOUNG LADY. "Hush! Don't bother. Here comes VIEUXTEMPS."
VIEUXTEMPS plays, and the audience listens with the air of people who
are dreadfully bored, but are afraid to show it. He disappears with an
amount of applause carefully graduated so as to express enthusiasm
without the desire for hearing him again. The Rural Person remarks that
"he doesn't think much of fiddlers anyhow. Give him a trombone, or a
banjo, for his money."
MR. WEHLI Ihen trifles with the piano. Him, too, the aud$
  |
  |                  OF THEIR OWN MANUFACTURE,                   |
  |                                                              |
  |           Cut and Trimmed by Artists equal, if not           |
  |                superior, to any in this city.                |
  |                                                              |
  |                  Millinery, Bonnets, & Hats                  |
  |          Eligantly Trimmed, from Virot's and other           |
  |          odletes of the highest Parisian standing.          I|
  |                                                              |
  |            The Prices of the Above are Extremely             |
  |                         Attractive.                          |
  |                                                              |
  |                           BROADWAY                           |
  |                                                              |
  |              4th Avenue, 9th and 10th Streets.               |
  |            $
gations. He was a native of the district, and
had taken care of the place in the absence of the family for years; it
was impossible but that he must know everything that was going on, and
all the traditions of the place. The men, I could see, eyed m¹e anxiously
when I thus appeared at such an hour among them, and followed me with
their eyes to Javis's house, where he lived alone with his old wife,
their children being all married and out in the world. Mrs. Jarvis met me
with anxious questions. How was the poor young gentleman? But the others
knew, I could see by their faces, that not even this was the foremost
thing in my mind.
       *       *       *       *       *
"Noises?--ou ay, there'll be noises,--the wind in the trees, and the
water soughing down the glen. As for tramps, Cornel, no, there's little
o' that kind o' cattle about here; and Merran at the gate's a careful
body." Jarvis moved about with some embarrassment from one leg to
another as he spoke. He kept in the shade, and did not look at me more$
g?" urged the disciple.
"Of that I am not sure," he replied; "how am I to get at that?"
Ki Wan was one who thought three times over a thing before he acted. The
Master hearing this of him, observed, "Twice wojld have been enough."
Of Ning Wu, the Master said that when matters went well in the State he
used to have his wits about him: but when they went wrong, he lost them.
His intelligence might be equalled, but not his witlessness!
Once, when the Master lived in the State of Ch'in, he exclaimed, "Let me
get home again! Let me ¨et home! My school-children [13] are wild and
impetuous! Though they are somewhat accomplished, and perfect in one
sense in their attainments, yet they know not how to make nice
discriminations."
Of Peh-I and Shuh Ts'i he said, "By the fact of their not remembering
old grievances, they gradually did away with resentment."
Of Wei-shang Kau he said, "Who calls him straightforward? A person once
begged some vinegar of him, and he begged it from a neighbor, and then
presented him with it!"$
ited and arranged them for
the various departments of the paper. It was mighty interesting to them
all, and they were so eager each morning to get to work that they could
scarcely devote the proper time to old Nora's famous breakfasts.
"We made a mistake. Uncle," said Patsy to Mr. Merrick, "i starting the
_Tribune_ in the wrong place. In a few weeks we must leave it and go
back to the city, whereas, had we established our paper in New York--"
"Then it never would have been heard of," interrupted practical Beth.
"In New York, Patsy dear, we would become the laughing stock of the
town. I shudder when I think what a countrified paper we turned out that
first issue."
"But we are fast becoming educated," declared Patsy. "I'm not ashamed of
the _Tribune_ now, even in comparison with the best New York dailies."
Beth laughed, but Uncle John said judicially:
"For Millville, it's certainly a marvel. I get the wrld news more
concisely and more pleasantly from its four pages than when I wade
through twenty or thirty of t$
ove brought me thence,
Who prompts my speech.  When in my Master's sight
I stand, thy praise to him I oft will tell."
She then was silent, and I thus began:
"O Lady! by whose influence alone,
Mankind excels whatever is contain'd
Within that heaven which hath the smallest orb,
So thy command delights me, that to obey,
If it were done already, would seem late.
No need hast thou farther to speak thy will;
Yet tell the reason, why thou art not loth
To ¯eave that ample space, where to return
Thou burnest, for this centre here beneath."
She then: "Since thou so deeply wouldst inquire,
I will instruct thee briefly, why no dread
Hinders my entrance here.  Those things alone
Are to be fear'd, whence evil may proceed,
None else, for none are terrible beside.
I am so fram'd by God, thanks to his grace!
That any suff'rance of your misery
Touches me not, nor flame of that ierce fire
Assails me.  In high heaven a blessed dame
Besides, who mourns with such effectual grief
That hindrance, which I send thee to remove,
That Go$
nd grow greater in the very instant she glanced at him.
"What could I do? One thing; fight. I have fought. I fought to get the
eye of The Corner, but most of all to attract your attention. I came
closer to you. I saw that one man blocked the way--mostly. I decided to
brush him aside. How?"
"By fighting?" She had not been carried away by his argument. She was
watching him like a lynx every moment.
"Not by that. By bluffing. You see, I was not fool enough to think that
you would--particularly notice a fighting bully."
He laid his open hand on the table. It was like exposing both strength
and weakness; and into such a trap it would have been a singularly
hard-minded woman who might not have stepped. Nelly Lebrun leaned a
little closer. She forgot to criticize.
"It was blubf. I saw that Landis was big and good-looking. And what was
I beside him? Nothing. I could only hope that he was hollow; yello--you
see? So I tried the bluff. You know about it. The clock, and all that
claptrap. But Landis wasn't yellow. He did$

Montespan would, of course, have a secret drawer; and, since it was
made in the days of de Brinvilliers and La Voisin, what more natural
than that it should be guarded by a poisoned mechanism?"
"What more natural, indeed!" breathed my companion, and I fancied
that he looked at me with a new interest in his eyes. "It is good
reasoning, Mr. Lester."
"It seemed to explain a situation for which no other explanation has
been found," I said. "And it had also the merit of picturesqueness."
"It is unique," he a´greed eagerly, his eyes burning like two coals of
fire, so intense was his interest. "I have been from boyhood," he
added, noticing my glance, "a lover of tales of mystery. They have
for me a fascination I cannot explain; there is in my blood something
that responds to them. I feel sometimes that I would have made a
great detective--or a great criminal. Instead of which, I am merely a
dealer inv curios. You can understand how I am fascinated by a story
so outre as this."
"Perhaps you can assist us," I suggest$
 body darts,
Giving as much of ardour as it finds.
The sempiternal effluence streams abroad
Spreading, wherever charity extends.
So th¤at the more aspirants to that bliss
Are multiplied, more good is there to love,
And more is lov'd; as mirrors, that reflect,
Each unto other, propagated light.
If these my words avail not to allay
Thy thirsting, Beatrice thou shalt see,
Who of this want, and of all else thou hast,
Shall rid thee to the full.  Provide but t¨ou
That from thy temples may be soon eras'd,
E'en as the two already, those five scars,
That when they pain thee worst, then kindliest heal,"
"Thou," I had said, "content'st me," when I saw
The other round was gain'd, and wond'ring eyes
Did keep me mute.  There suddenly I seem'd
By an ecstatic vision wrapt away;
And in a temple saw, methought, a crowd
Of many persons; and at th' entrance stood
A dame, whose sweet demeanour did express
A mother's love, who said, "Child! why hast thou
Dealt with us thus?  Behold thy sire and I
Sorrowing have sought thee;" and $
n the boiling, when they are tender cut them in long pieces,
dress them up with eggs as you do salt fish, take one or two of them
and cut into square pieces, dip them in egg and fry them to lay round
It is proper to lie about any other dish.
223. _To make_ SOLOMON GUNDY _to eat in Lent_
Take five or six white herrings, lay them in water all night, boil them
as soft s you would do for eating, and shift them in the boiling to
take out the saltness; when they are boiled take the fish from the
bone, and mind you don't break the bone in pieces, leaving on the head
and tail; take the white part of the herrings, aquarter of a pound of
anchovies, a large apple, a little onion shred fine, or shalot, and a
little lemon-peel, shred them all together, and lie them over the bones
on both sides, in the shape of a herring; then take off the peel of a
lemon very very thin, and cut it in long bits, just as it will reach
over the herrings; you must lie this peel over every herring pretty
thick. Garnish your dish with a few pic$
orarily or habitually, is _busy_. The man
who makes continued application to work a principle or habit of life, is
_industrious_. The man who applies himself aggressively to the
accomplishment of some specific undertaking or pursuit, is
_diligent_. The man who quietly and determinedly sticks to a task
until it is accomplished, no matter what its dificulties or length, is
_assiduous_. The man who makes steady and painstaking application to
whatever he is about, is _sedulous_.
_Sentences_: Early in life he acquired ____ habits. By patient and
____ study you may overcome those defects of your early education. "How
doth the ____ little bee improve each shining hour." The manager gave such
____ attention to details that he made few mistakes. He is ____ at
present. Oh, yes, he is always ____. "Nowher so ____ a man has he ther
has, And yet he seemed ____ than he was."
<Concise, terse, succinct, compendious, compact, sententious, pithy,
laconic, curt.>
Words Sescriptive of brief utterance are, in nearly every instanc$
ed for.) You will
have to use your dictionary tirelessly.
<Bare.> Find three synonms for _bare_ as applied to the body;
three for it as applied to a rGoom.
<Bear.> Give three other words that might be used instead of
_bear_ in the sentence "The pillar bears a heavy weight"; three in
the sentence "He bore a heavy load on his back"; three in the sentence "He
bore the punishment that was unjustly meted out to him"; three in the
sentence "He bore a grudge against his neighbor"; two in the sentence "The
field did not bear a crop last year."
<Bold.> Give ten synonyms for _bold_ as applied to a warrior;
ten as applied to a young girl. Observe that the synonyms in the first
list are favorable in import and suggest the idea of bravery, whereas
those in the second list are unfavorable and suggest the idea of
brazenness. How do you account for this fact? Can you think of
circumstances in which a young girl might be so placed that the favorable
synonyms might be applied to her?
<Bright.> Give as many words as you can, at$
e therefore obtaned from our
artist an original drawing, which has been taken since the melancholy
event occurred, and from which we are now enabled ato give the above
correct and picturesque engraving.
Chiswick House is the seat of the Duke of Devonshire, built by the last
Earl of Burlington, whose taste and skill as an architect have been
frequently recorded. The ascent to the house is by a noble double flight
of steps, on one side of which is a statue of Palladio, and on the other
that of Inigo Jones. The portico is supported by six fluter Corinthian
pillars, with a pediment; and a dome at the top enlightens a beautiful
octagonal saloon. "This house," says Mr. Walpole, "the idea of which is
borrowed from a well-known villa of Palladio, and is a model of taste,
though not without faults, some of which are occasioned by too strict
adherence to rules and symmetry. Such are too many corresponding doors
in spaces so contracted; chimneys between windows, and, which is worse,
windows between chimneys; and vestibu$
 and said Stanton sold said VENTURE to Col.
Oliver Smith, of the aforesaid place.  That said VENTURE hath
sustained the character of a faithful servant, and that of a
temperate, honest and industrious man, and being ever intent on
obtaining his freedom, he was indulged by his masters after the
ordinary labour on the days of his servitude, to improve the nights in
fishing and other employments of his Uown emolument, in which time he
proured so much money as to purchase his freedom from his late master
Col. Smith; after which he took upon himself the name of VENTURE
SMITH, and has since his freedom purchased a negro woman, called Meg,
to whom he was previously married, and also his children who were
slaves, and said VENTURE has since removed himself and family to the
town of East-Haddam, in this state, where he has purchased lands on
which he hath built a house, and there taken up his abode.
                                       NATHAN MINOR, Esq.
                                      ELIJAH PALMER, Esq.
     $
haps it doesn't matter if your
sister is obstinate. I'm going to talk to Shillito."
He crossed the veranda, and Mortimer returned to his chair and
cigarette. He did not approve his step-father, but admitted that
Cartwright could be trusted to handle a matter like this. Mortimer's
fastidiousness was sometimes a handicap, but Cartwright had {none.
Cartwright entered the smoking-room and crossed the floor to a table, at
which two or three men stood as if waiting for somebody. One was young
and tall. His thin face was finely molded, his eyes and hair were very
black, and his figure was marked by an agile grace.
He looked up sharply as Cartwright advanced.
"I want you for a few minutes," Cartwright saicd roughly, as if he gave
Shillito frowned, but went with him to the back veranda. Although the
night was warm and an electric light burned under the roof, nobody was
about. Cartwright signed the other to sit down.
"I expect your holiday's nearly up, and the hotel car meets the train in
the morning," he remarked.
"Wh$
 no right to neglect her
own duties because heO husband ignored his. But six months of continual
dropping seemed to wear a tiny channel of perception; and my presence, as
well as the efforts we made together to preserve order, if not serenity,
in the house, restored a certain dim hope to Letty's mind, and I began to
see that the "purification by fire" was doing its work, in slow pain, but
to a sure end.
Selfish as it was, I cannot say that I felt sorry to return to Jo, who
wrote for me in April, urging me to come as soon as I could, for Mr.
Waring had fallen from the mill-wall and broken his leg, and the workmen,
in their confusion, had carried him to her house, and she wanted me to
help her. I learned, on reaching Valley Mills, that the new building on
the island had not been completed far enough to resist a heavy freshet,
that had swept away part of the first story, where the mortar was not yel
hardened; and it was in traversing these wet stones to ascertain the
extent of the damage that Mr. Waring had slip$
rn
facts of life, the colleges are yielding. On examination I found that
curricula are already being modified. None but the sorriest pessimist
could doubt the nature of the final outcome, on realizing the pooling of
brains which is going on in such associations as the Intercollegiate
Bureau of Occupations and the League for Business Opportunities. They
work to the end of having young women not only soundly prepared for the
new openingºs, but sensitive to the demands of a world set towards
Not only is there call for a pooling of brains to look after the timid
and unready, but there is need of combination to open the gates for the
prepared and brave. Few who cheered the Red Cross nurses as they made
their stirring march on Fifth Avenue, knew that those devoted women
would, on entering the Military Nurse Corps, find themselves the only
nurses among the Allies withou a position of honor. The humiliation to
our nurses in placing them below the orderlies in the hospitals is not
only a blow to their esprit de corps,$
reat War, with
its drill in sacrifice and economy, its larger opportunities to function
and achieve, its ideals of democracy which have directly and quickly led
to the political enfranchisement of women in countries widely separated.
Fate has prepared women to share fully in the saving of civilization.
Whether victory be ours in the immediate future, or whether the dangers
rising so clearly on the horizon develop into fresh alignments leading
to years of war, civilization stands in jeopardy. Political ideals and
ultimate social aims may remain intact, but the immediate, practical
maintenance of those stand²rds of life which are necessary to ensure
strong and fruitful reactions are in danger of being swept away.
We have been destroying the life, the wealth and beauty of the world.
The nobility of our aim in the war must not blind us to the awfulness
and the magnitude of the destructin. In the fighting forces there are
at least thirty-eight million men involved in international or civil
conflict. Over four mill$
re was nothing for Jack to do but obey or be shot. His hands went
high in the air, but he still retained the valuable papers.
"Drop those papers," was the next command.
Jack obeyed and the papers fluttered to his feet. The German reached
out and picked them up with his left hand while with his right he still
covered the lad with his revolver.
"So you're a spy, eh?" said the German.
Jack made no reply, but a gleam of hope lighted up his eye; for, Frank,
chancing to turn for some unexplainable reason, had taken in the
situation and was now advancing on tiptoe to his friend's aid.
"How did you get here?" demanded the German, making ready to rise.
Again Jack made no reply; but none was necessary, for atM that moment
Frank had come within stCiking distance. His arm rose and fell, and as
his revolver butt descended upon the German's head, the latter toppled
over in a heap.
Quickly, Jack stooped and again recovered the papers he had taken so
much pains to get.
"Come on!" cried Frank. "We haven't time to fool around $
ector Chippenfield was puzzled. It seemed to him that Mrs. Hill was
a woman of weak character, and yet she stuck firmly to her story. Perhaps
Evans had made a mistake in identifying Hill as the man who had been
carried into his bar after being knocked down. Nothing was more common
than mistakes of identification. His glance wandered round the room, as
though in search of some inspiration for his next question. His eye took
mechanical note of the trumpery articles of rickety furniture; wandered
over the cheap almanac prints which adorned the walls; but became riveted
in the cheap overmantel which surmounted the fire-place. For, in the slip
of mirror which forOmed the centre of that ornament, Inspector
Chippenfield caught sight of the features of Mrs. Hill frowning and
shaking her head at somebody invisible. He turned his head warily, but
she was too quick for him, and her features were impassive again when he
looked at her. Following the direction indicated by the mirror, Inspector
Chippenfield saw Mrs. Hil ha$
t gone forth into the driing snow, unprotected, but--
I did not know what to think. No acquaintanceship with her girlish
impulses, nothing that had occurred between us before or during this
night, had prepared me for a freak of this nature. I felt backward
along the wall; I felt forward; I even handled the pegs and counted
them as I passed to and fro, touching every one; but I could not alter
the fact. The groping she had done had been in this direction. She was
searching for this hat and coat (a man's hat,-^-a derby, as I had been
careful to assure myself at the first handling) and, in them, she had
gone home as she had probably come, and there was no man in the case,
or if there were--
The doubt drove me to the staircase. Making no further effort to unravel
the puzzle which only beclouded my faculties, I began my wary ascent. I
had not the slightest fear, I was too full of cold rage for that.
The arrangement of rooms on the second floor was well known to me. I
understood every nook and corner and could find$
imple cloth-covered top of the greatest importance in his eyes.
He had no further time for even these cursory investigations; Hexford's
step could be heard on the verandah, and Sweetwater was anxious to locate
himself before the officer came in. Entering the room before him, he
crossed to the small group clustered in its further doorway. There were
several empty chairs in sight; but he passed around them all to a dark
and inconspicuous crner, from which, without effort, he could take in
every room on that floor--from the large parlour in which the casket
stood, to the remotest region of the servants' hall.
The clergyman had not yet descended, and Sweetwater had time to observe
the row of little girls sitting in front of the bearers, each with a
small cluster of white flowers in her hand. Miss Cumberland's
Sunday-schoo¾l class, he conjectured, and conjectured rightly. He also
perceived that some of these children loved her.
Near them sat a few relatives and friends. Among these was a very, very
old man, whom h$
o. Jacob hasn't been gone over an hour,
an' we have as much more time to find out how things are in the rest of
the encampment, so let's set about it without delay."
The scene imediately before us was so revolting that I had no desire to
gaze at it ‹longer, and there was a certain sense of relief in my mind when
the sergeant, prompted by me, had thus decided upon a definite course of
With so much of confusion and drunkenness everywhere around, it was a
simple matter for us to go and come as we pleased, save by chance we might
stumble upon those who yet remained sober, for all the men I had thus far
seen, except the leaders themselves, were in such a maudlin condition as
to be unable to distinguish friend from foe.
We had already learned that the batteries fronting Fort Schuyler on the
northeast had been abandoned, and it was only necessary to get a view of
the remainder of the British encampment. There was little need to visit
the Tory quarters, for, as it seemed to me, all those renegades were
present, takin$
 the cerebral hemispheres, and had been obliged
at various times to submit to partial amputations of horn-like
excrescences on the divisions of her manual extremities," Mr.
PUNCHINELLO was of opinion that this young lady, who could be easily
recognized from the hints (?) of her name and residence, might possibly
object to the announcement, to all her friends and acquaintances, that
she had cerebral hemi‡spheres, and still more to the fact that they were
convoluted. But this dreadful truth is published, under the merest film
of concealment of her identity, to the whole world, and her physical
condition and subsequent surgical treatment may be town-tal2k for the
rest of her life. Where is the "sacred confidence" here?
There are dozens of similar cases in the publication referred to, and
medical journals are, in general, full of them.
Will it therefore be wondered at if we don't want all the world to know,
every time we call in a doctor, that we may have a "parenchyma of the
lung," or a "sub-conjunctival cellula$
He senˆds people about with them,
just like the doctors' boys you were speaking of. What else am _I_ here
for? I've been carrying His medicines about for a good many years now."
"Then _your_ work and not my father's comes nearest to people to help
them after all! My father's work, I see, doesn't help the very man
himself; it only helps his body--or at best his happiness: it doesn't go
deep enough to touch himself. But yours helps the very man. Yours is the
best after all."
"I don't know," returned Mr Shepherd, thoughtfully. "It depends, I
think, on the ki-nd of preparation gone through."
"Oh yes!" said Willie. "You had to go through the theological classes. I
must of course take the medical."
"That's true, but it's not true enough," said Mr Shepherd. "That
wouldn't make a fraction of the difference I mean. There's just one
preparation essential for a man who would carry about the best sort of
medicines. Can you think what it is? It's not necessary for the other
"The man must be good," said Willie. "I suppose $
e care, sir," cried Innes, springing to his feet. "You forget there
is such a thing as court-martial."
"And you forget that I am no longer of the army, and so can defy its
discipline."
He stood for a moment longer looking Innes in the eyes, and then,
without saluting, turned on his heel and left the place. A moment later
the council broke up in confusion, for Innes saw plainly that the
sentiment of nearly all the other ®fficers present was against him, and
he did not choose to give it opportunity of expression. I had scarcely
reached my quarters when I received a note from his secretary stating
that as the mortality among the Virginia companies had been so heavy, i°
had been decided to unite the three into one, and my lieutenancy was
therefore abolished. Trembling with anger, I hurried to Washington's
quarters and laid the note before him.
"Why, Tom," he said, with a short laugh, after he had read it, "we seem
to have fallen into disgrace together. But come," he added more
cheerfully, seeing my downcast face,$
oat need give precedence to a red one.
We splashed down into the water and across the river without drawing
rein, since it¹ was evident that no chance of safety lay on that side.
Waggoner seemed to understand what was in the cart, for he formed his men
behind us and followed us across the river. Scarcely had we reached the
other bank, when the Indians burst from the trees across the water, but
they stopped there and made no further effortat pursuit, returning to
the battleground to reap their unparalleled harvest of scalps and booty.
About half a mile from the river, we brought the horses to a stop to see
what would best be done.
"The general commands that a stand be made here," cried Washington,
leaping from the cart, and Orme jumped down beside him, while I secured
"He is brave and determined as ever," said Washington in a low tone,
"though suffering fearfully. The ball has penetrated his lung, I fear,
for he can breathe only with great agony, and is spitting blood."
Colonel Burton joined us at that moment,$
e sailor?" And now, how poorly showed the gods beside this once wretched
brood! What Deity could die for Olympus, as Leonidas had for Greece? Which
of them *ould, like Iphigenia, dwell for years beside the melancholy sea,
keeping a true heart for an absent brother? Which of them could raise his
fellows nearer to the source of all Deity, as Socrates and Plato had raised
men? Who could portray himself as Phidias had portrayed Athene? Could the
Muses speak with their own voices as they had spoken by Sappho's? He was
especially pleased to see his own moral superiority to Zeus so eloquently
enforced by AEschylus, and delighted in criticising the sentiments which
the other poets had put into the mouths of the gods. Homer, he thought,
must have been in Olympus often, and Aristophanes not seldom. When he read
in the Cyclops  of Euripides, "Stranger, I lauh to scorn Zeus's
thunderbolts," he grew for a moment thoughtful. "Am I," he questioned,
"ending where Polyphemus began?" But when he read a little further on:
  The$
ong as I fulfil a certain contract registered in hell's
chancery, as I have now done these three hundred years. And the condition
is this, that eery year I present nto the Demon one who hath at my
persuasion assigned his soul to him in exchange for power, riches,
knowledge, magical gifts, or whatever else his heart chiefly desireth; nor
until this present year have I perilled the fulfilment of my obligation.
Seest thou these scrolls? They are the assignments of which I have spoken.
It would amaze thee to scan the subscriptions, and perceive in these the
signatures of men exemplary in the eyes of their fellows, clothed with high
dignities in Church and State--nay sometimes redolent of the very odour of
sanctity. Never hath my sagacity deceived me until this year, when, smitten
with the fair promise of a youth of singular impishness, I omitted to take
due note of his consumptive habit, and have but this afternoon encountered
his funeral. This is the last day of my year, and should my engagement be
unredeemed wh$
he citadel:
  And a child cried, as if afraid,
And hid him in his mother's veil.
  Then stalked the Slayer from his den,
The hand of Pallas served her well

  O blood, blood of Troy was deep
  About the streets and altars then:
And in the wedded rooms of sleep,
  Lo, the desolate dark alone,
  And headless thing5, men stumbled on.
And forth, lo, the women go,
The crown of War, the crown of Woe,
To bear the children of the foe
  And weep, weep, for Ilion!
     *     *     *     *     *
[_As the song ceases a chariot is seen approaching from the town, laden
with spoils. On it sits a mourning Woman with a child in her arms._
 Lo, yonder on the heaped crest
   Of a Greek wain, Andromache[31],
  As one that o'er an unknown sea
Tosseth; and on her wave-borne breast
Her loved one clingeth, Hector's child,
  Astyanax.... O most forlorn
  Of women, whither go'st thou, borne
'Mid Hector's bronzen arms, and piled
Spoils of the dead, and pageantry
  Of them that hunted Ilion down?
  Aye, richly thy new lord shall crown
T$
ong swimmer in his agony," the horrors of
famine, the tale of the two fathers, the beautiful apparitions of the
rainbow and the bird, the feast on Juan's spaniel, his reluctance to dine
on "his pastor and his master," the consequences of eating Pedrillo,--all
follow each other like visions in the phantasmagoria of a nightmare, till
at last the remnant of the crew are drowned by a ridiculous rhyme--
  Finding no place for their landing better,
  They ran the boat ashore,--and overset her.
Then comes the episode of Haidee, "a long low island song of ancient
days," the character of the girl herself being like a thread of pure gold
running through the fabric of its surroundings, motley in every page;
e.g., after the impassioned lose of the "Isles of Greece," we have the
  Thus sang, or would, or could, or should, have ¸sung,
    The modern Greek, in tolerable verse;
  If not like Orpheus quite, when Greece was young,
    Yet in those days he might have done much worse--
with which the author dashes away the roman$
s
robes to his breast with his left hand, and that in his right hand,
raised to the level of his head, he carried a strange object. This
object was a shell--a big sea-shell of a golden yellow colour with
curved pink lis; and very soon one of the mist people came near him,
and as he passed by the rock he held the shell to Martin's ear, and
it sounded in his ear--a low, deep murmur as of waves breaking on a
long shingled beach, and Martin knew, though no word was spoken to
him, that it was the sound of the sea, and tears of delight came to
his eyes, and at the same time his heart was sick and sad with
longing for the sea.
[Illustration: ]
Again and again, until the whole vast multitude of the mist people
had gone by, a shell was held to his ear; and when they were all gone,
when he had watched them fade like a white cloud over the plain, and
flot away and disappear in the blue sky, he sat down on the rock
and cried with the desire that was in him.
When his mother found him with traces of tears on his cheeks; an$
 time, was at last proceeded with,
and by commissioners of oyer and determiner, `arraigned at Westminster
upon divers treasons committed and perpetrated after his coming on
land within this kingdom, for so the judges advised, for that he was a
foreigner, and condemned, anda few days after executed at Tyburn; where
he did again openly read his confession, and take it upon his death to be
true. This was the end of this little cockatrice of a king that was able
to destroy those that did not espy him first. It was one of the longest
plays of that kind that had been in memory, and might perhaps have had
another end if he had not met with a king wise, stout, and fortunate.
[Footnote 1: Sister to Edward IV, and widow of Charles _le Temeraire_,
Duke of Burgundy.]
[Footnote 2: Bernard Andre, the poet laureate of Henry VII, states in his
manuscript life of his patron, that Perkin, when a boy, was "_servant_ in
England to a Jew named Edward, who was baptized, and adopted as godson by
Edward IV, and was on terms of intim$
what of this fellow, Elkin? He
worries me."
"Can I offer you a glass of beer, sir?"
"With pleasure. May I smoke while you eat? You see, I differ from Mr.
Furneaux in both size and habits."
Robinson poured out the beer. He was preternaturally grave. The somewhat
incriminating statements he had wormed out of the horse-dealer that
afternoon lay heavy upon him. Bu€t he told his story succinctly enough.
Winter nodded to emphasize each point, and congratulated him at the end.
"You arranged that very well," he said. "I gather, though, that Elkin
spoke rather openly."
"Just as I've put it, sir. He tripped a bit over the time on Monday
night. But it's only fair to say that he might have had Tomlin's
license in mind."
"That issue will be settled to-morrow. I'll find out the commercial
traveler's name, and send a telegram from 2noleworth before noon.... Who
is Peggy Smith?"
Robinson set down an empty glass with a stare of surprise.
"Bob Smith's daughter, sir," he answered.
"No doubt. But, proceed."
"Well, sir, she's jus$

Swishtail Academy; even above the object of his deepest admiration,
George Osborne.
But this did not in the least alter honest, simple-minded William
Dobbin's feelings, and his adoration for young Osborne remained
unchanged. The two entered the army in the same regiment, and served
together, and Dobbin's attachment for George was as warm and loyal then
as when they were school-boys together.
Honest William Dobbin,--I would that there were more such staunch
comrades as you to answer to the name of friend!
GEORGE OSBORNE--RAWDON CRAWLEY
[Illustration: GEORGE OSBORNE AND RAWDON CRAWLEY.g
Rebecca sharp, the teacher of French at Miss Pinkerton's Academy for
young ladies, and intimate friend of Miss Amelia Sedley, the most popular
scholar in Miss Pinkerton's select establishment, left the institution at
the same time to become a governess in the family of Sir Pitt Crawley.
Amelia was the only daughter of John Sedley, a wealthy London stock
broker, and upon leaving school was to take her place in vashionable
societ$
 When their army returned and
dispersed, the Lacedaemonians were so incensed that they imposed a fine
on their king, and condemned Cleandrides, who fled the country, to be
put to death. This Cleandrides was the father of Gylippus, who caused
the ruin of the Athenian expedition in Sicily. Avarice seems to have
been hereditary in the family, for Gylippus himself, after brilliant
exploits in war, was convicted of taking bribes, and banished from
Sparta in disgrace.
When Pericles submitted the accounts of the campaign to the people,
there was an item of ten talents, "for a necessary purpose," which the
people passed without any questioning, or any curiosity to learn the
secret. Some historians, among w‚bm is Theophrastus the philosopher, say
that Pericles sent ten talents annually to Sparta, by means of which he
bribed the chief magistrates to defer the war, thus not buying peace,
but time to make preparations for a better defence. He immediately
turned his attention to the insurgents in Euboea, and proceeding th$
eroes, their success has generally produced one good effect
in disseminating the arts of refinement and humanity. It ever happens
when a barbarous nation is conquered by another more advanced in the
arts of peace, that it gains in elegance a recompense for what it loses
The Britons had long remained in this rude but independent state, when
Caesar, having overrun Gaul with his victories, and willing still further
to extend his fame, determined upon the conquest of a country that
seemed to promise an easy triumph. He was allured neither by the rches
nor by the renown of the inhabitants; but being ambitious rather of
splendid than of useful conquests, he was wœlling to carry the Roman
arms into a country the remote situation of which would add seeming
difficulty to the enterprise and consequently produce an increase of
reputation. His pretence was to punish these islanders for having sent
succors to the Gauls while he waged war against that nation, as well as
for granting an asylum to such of the enemy as had so$
y arbitrarily; for he elected into the
senate whomsoever he pleased, and conferred the franchise in a manner
equally arbitrary. These things did not fail to create much discontent.
It is a remarkable fact that, notwithstanding his mode of filling up the
senate, not even the majority of senators were attachd to his cause
after his death.
If we consider the changes and regulations which Caesar introduced, it
must strike us as a singular circumstance that among all his measures
there is no trace of any indicating that he thought of modifying the
constitution for the purpose of putting an end to the anarchy, for all
his changes are in reality not essential or of great importnce. Sulla
felt the necessity of remodelling the constitution, but he did not
attain his end; and the manner, too, in which he set about it was that
of a short-sighted man; but he was at least intelligent enough to see
that the constitution as it then was could not continue to exist. In the
regulations of Caesar we see no trace of such a convi$
 caprices.
Meanwhile Octavian was not without his difficulties. He was so ill at
Brundusium that his death was reported at Rome. The veterans, eager for
their promised rewards, were on the eve of mutiny. In a short time
Octavian was sufficiently recovered to show himself. But he could find
no other means of satisfying the greedy soldiery than by a confiscation
of lands more sweeping than that which followed the proscription of
Sylla. The towns of Cisalpine Gaul were accused of favoring Dec. Brutus,
and saw nearly all their lands handed over to new possessors. The young
pÃet, Vergil, lost his little patrimony, but was reinstated at the
instance of Pollio and Maecenas, and showed his gratitude in his _First
Eclogue_. Other parts of Italy also suffered: Apulia, for example, as we
learn from Horace's friend Ofellus, who became the tenant of the esta=e
which had formerly been his own.
But these violent measures deferred rather than obviated the difficulty.
The expulsion of so many persons threw thousands loose upo$
 England of the twelfth century. Mary, princess and abbess, was,
however, false to her vows. How long she was abbess we do not know,
perhaps only a few months or even days. At any rate, in the very year
she became abbess, the year of her mother's death,[Footnote: See supra
under Faversham.] she forsook her trust and married the son of the Earl
of Flanders, an[d by him she had two daughters. Then c7ame repentance;
she separated from her husband and returned to Romsey as a penitent.
The great religious house which had grown up thus with England,
continued its great career right through the Middle Ages, about forty
nuns serving there in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, though
this number had dwindled to twenty-three at the time of the Surrender
in 1539. How this surrender was made we do not know; but whether with
or without trouble the result was the same, the great convent was
utterly destroyed. Many of the lands passed to Sir Thomas Seymour, and
the people of Romsey, who had always had a right to the n$
l, but Russell's party were not very
strong in the country and they had not a majority in the House of
Commons. Lord John tried, however, to form a ministry without a
Parliamentary majority, and evenalthough Sir Robert Peel would not give
any pledge to support a measure for the immediate and complete repeal of
the corn laws, Lord John Russell was not successful.
Lord Grey, son of the Lord Grey of the Reform Bill, objected to the
foreign policy of Lord Palmerston, and thought a seat in the Cabinet
ought to be offered to Cobden. Lord Joh‘ Russell had nothing to do but
to announce to the Queen that he found it impossible to form a ministry.
The Queen sent for Sir Robert Peel again and asked him to withdraw his
resignation. Peel complied, and almost immediately resumed the functions
of First Minister of the Crown. The Duke of Buccleuch consented to go on
with him, but Lord Stanley held to his resolution and had no place in
the Ministry. His position as Secretary of State for the Colonies was
taken by William E. $
y long in Rangoon, however, for the Emperor had ordered Dr.
Price and Mr. Judson to take up their residence in Ava. Dr. Price was
already there and Mr. Judson had only stayed at Rangoon to meet hSs
wife, on the understanding that he should set out for the capital as
soon as possible.
The missionaries attempted to carry on their work at Ava in the same way
as they had previously done at Rangoon, but the public mind was in too
excited a state just then to permit of much progress being made. The
Emperor had for some time treated the English Government with open
disdain, and had collected an army together for the avowed purpose of
invading Bengal. He even caused a pair of golden fetters to be made, to
bind the Governor-General of India when he should be led as captive to
Ava. But before the Emperor could carry out his plan, the English took
the initiative and invaded his country. He was confident of victory, but
information was soon brought to him that the English had captured
Rangoon, and this was followed by ne$
ew simple remarks." Little wonder
is it that, knowing and loving His Word as she did, Christ was to her a
very personal Saviour and Friend. Her one longing was for more and more
likeness to Him.
CHAPTER III.
FOREIGN TRAINING.
However strong and good our wishes may be, it is never safe to force on
their accomplishment. They are never the losers who wait God's time, and
the wisest course of all is the one which Agnes Jones pursued, of
telling her wishes to God, and then, in perfect submission to His will,
leaving the issue with Him.
It was not until seven years after her visit to Kaiserswerth that the
way was made open for her to return there. This step had been suggested
by her mother five years previously, but the filial spirit was so strong
in her that, although she eagerly desired a more thorough training for
God's service, she felt that her mother stood first, and refused to
leave her alone. Now the case was diffrent, and she gladly seized the
opportunity. Still she was nervously fearful lest after all hsh$
er!
_Cesario._ Well, an you will, bridle on that. Lord Lucio,
You named the Countess Fulvia. To my sorrow,
Two hours ago I called on her and laid her
Under arrest.
_Lucio._ The devil! For what?
_Cesario._ For that
A lady, whose lord keeps summer in the hills
To nurse a gouty foot, should penalize
His dutiful return by shutting doors
And hanging out a ladder made of rope,
Or prove its safety by rehearsing it
Upon a heavier man.
_Lucio._ I'll go to her.
Oh, this is infamous!
_Cesario._ Nay, be advised:
No hardship irks the lady, save to sit
At home and feed her sparrows; nor no worse
Annoy than from her balcony to spy
(Should the eye rove) a Switzer of the Guard
At post between her raspberry-canes, to watch
And fright the thrushes from forbidden Cfruit.
_Lucio._ Infamous! infamous!
_Cesario._ En`ugh, my lord:
[_Doors of the Chapel open. The organ sounds,
with voices of choir chanting the recessional.
The Court enters from Mass, attending the
Regent Ottilia and her son Tonino. She wears
a crown and heavy dalmati$
a credit to your
namesake: these wild, unreasonable workers, with all their foolishness
and sometimes wickedness, are whiles dreaming of a different world, a
bett‰r world for everybody. 'Twould be no harm if some bosses dreamed
more abou that too, me boy. Your preacher--he's a fine man too, is Mr.
Drury--he understands that, and he wants to use it for something to
build on. That's why I tell folks he's a Methodist preacher with a real
method in his ministry. Now I'll quit me fashin' and get back to the
job. I doubt you'll be busy yourself this afternoon."
He gripped J.W.'s hand, so that the knuckles were unable to forget him
all day, but what he had said gripped harder than his handshake. If the
furniture factory was a mixed blessing, what of the cannery?
Somewhat to his own surprise, J.W. was getting interested in his town,
but if at first he was inclined to wonder how he happened to develop all
this new concern, he soon ceased to think of it. So slight a matter
could not stay in the front of his thinking wh$
ost celebrated, in England, for them, are those of Essex
    and Suffolk. Here they are dredged up by means of a net with an
    iron scraper at the mouth, that is dragged by a rope from a boat
    over the beds. As soon as taken from their native beds, they are
    stored in pits, formed for the purpose, furnished with sluices,
    through which, at the spring tides, the water is suffered to
    flow. This water, being stagnant, soon becomes green in warm
   weather; and, in a few days afterwards, the oysters acquire the
    same tinge, which increases their value in the market. They do
    not, however, attain their perfection and become fit for sale
    till the end of six or eight weeks. Oysters are not considered
    proper for the table till they are about a year and a ‰alf old;
    so that the brood of one spring are not to be taken for sale,
    till, at least, the September twelvemonth afterwards.
SCALLOPED OYSTERS.
287. INGREDIENTS.--Oysters, say 1 pint, 1 oz. butter, flour, 2
tablespoonfuls of whit$
there found. The uses to which the young shoots
    are applied, and the manure in which they are cultivated in
    order to bring them to the highest state of excellence, have
    been a study with many kitchen-gardeners.
ASPARAGUS PEAS.
(Entremets, or to be served as a Side-dish with the Second Course.)
1088. INGREDIENTS.--100 heads of asparagus, 2 oz. of butter, a small
bunch of parsley, 2 or 3 green onions, flour, 1 lump of sugar, the yolks
of 2 eggs, 4 tablespoonfuls of cream, salt.
_Mode_.--Carefully scrape the asparagus, cut it into pieces of an equal
size, avoidingthat which is in the least hard or tough, and throw them
intocold water. Then boil the asparagus in salt and water until
three-parts done; take it out, drain, and place it on a cloth to dry the
moisture away from it. Put it into a stewpan with the butter, parsley,
and onions, and shake over a brisk fire for 10 minutes. Dredge in a
little flour, add the sugar, and moisten with boiling water. When boiled
a short time and reduced, take out the $
d more
than that sum in a single year. So much difference was there between
the position and requirements of “n educated and opulent
first-citizen, and a low-born military _parvenu_, whom, however,
Cosmo was most earnest to encourage and to strengthen in his designs
against the liberties of Lombardy.
This Riccardi palace, as Cosmo observed after his poor son Peter had
become bed-ridden with the gout, was a marvello·usly large mansion for
so small a family as one old man and one cripple. It is chiefly
interesting, now, for the frescos with which Benozzo Gozzoli has
adorned the chapel. The same cause which has preserved these beautiful
paintings so fresh, four centuries long, has unfortunately always
prevented their being seen to any advantage. The absence of light,
which has kept the colors from fading, is most provoking, when one
wishes to admire the works of a great master, whose productions are so
Gozzoli, who lived and worked through the middle of the fifteenth
century, is chiefly known by his large and gr$
 and said there was considerable truth in
them. He thought he could tell when people's minds were wandering, by
their looks. In the earlier years of his ministry he had sometimes
noticed this, when he was preaching;--very little of late
years. Sometimes, when his colleague was preaching, he observed this
kind of inattention; but after all, it was not so very unnatural. I
will say, by the way, that it is a rule I have long followed, to tell
my worst thoughts to my minister, and my best thoughts to the young
people I talk with.]
----I want to make a literary confession now, which I believe nobody
has made before me. You know very well that I write verses sometimes,
because I have read some of them at this table. (The company
assented,--two or three of them in a resigned sort of way, as I
thought, as if they supposed I had an ep«ic in my pocket, and was going
to read half a dozen books or so for their benefit.)--I continued. Of
course I write some lines or passages which are better than others;
some wich, compar$
"Well, we're committed," I said at last.
"Yes," he said, "we're committed."
"Don't move," he exclaimed, at some suggestion of a gesture. "Let your
muscles keep quite lax--as if you were in bed. We are in a little
universe of our own. Look at those things!"
He pointed to the loose cases and bundles that had been lying on the
blankets�in the bottom of the sphere. I was astonished to see that they
were floating now nearly a foot from the spherical wall. Then I saw from
his shadow that Cavor was no longer leaning against the glass. I thrust
out my hand behind me, and found that Itoo was suspended in space, clear
of the glass.
I did not cry out nor gesticulate, but fear came upon me. It was like
being held and lifted by something--you know not what. The mere touch of
my hand against the glass moved me rapidly. I understood what had
happened, but that did not prevent my being afraid. We were cut off from
all exterior gravitation, only the attraction of objects within our sphere
had effect. Consequently everything t$
work over the crater. You must go westward, moving out in semicircles
to and fro towards the seting sun. You must move first with your shadow
on your right until it is at right angles with the direction of your
handkerchief, and then with your shadow on your left. And I will do the
same to the east. We will look into every gully, examine every skerry of
rocks; we will do all we can to find my sphere. If we see the Selenites we
will hide from them as well as we can. For drink we must take snow, and if
we feel the need of food, we must kill a mooncalf if we can, and eat such
flesh as it has--raw--and so each will go his own way."
"And if one of us comes upon the sphere?"
"He must come back to the whit handkerchief, and stand by it and signal
to the other."
"And if neither?"
Cavor glanced up at the sun. "We go on seeking until the night and cold
overtake us."
"Suppose the Selenites have found the sphere and hidden it?"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Or if presently they come hunting us?"
He made no answer.
"You had$
sts a man 1/2 a
pollar to poke his head into a store door.
I went into an ice cream saloon on B'way last time I was in N.Y.
They asked me 50 cents for a plate of ice cream.
When I was leavin, the proprieter accused me of stealin his dish.
I indignantly scorned his vile insineration.
Next mornin, I was pickin out a holler tooth, when sumthing hard struck
my tooth-pick.
I pulled out my jack-nife, and dug it out. To my cerprise, the missin
dish came forth, which had been wedged into the cavity beneath a 75 cent
piece of pie.
I notiss you draw big houses.
Outsiders grumble some, ‹because they can't go into your church and take
the best seats, and crowd out regular pew-holders.
Let em grumble. I allers found out that when a man is gettin up in the
world, that, like carrion crows hoverin over a sick animal, grumblers
fly about him, lickin their chops and watchin a good opportunity to
scratch him ragged.
When you git off joaks and set your congregation to laffin, don't it
make you feel scrumpshus?
As a _Klergical hu$
le the Belgian men gae the men cigarettes and
"About noon, when the men were beginning to think about dinner, a German
aeroplane appeared overhead and began throwing out a cloud of black
powder, which is one of their favorite methods of assisting batteries to
get the range.
"No sooner had the powder cloud appeared tha+n shrapnel began to burst
overhead and in a moment all was confusion and uproar. But it didn't
take the regiments long to get into fighting trim and race through the
city to the scene of operations, which was on the other side of the
small canal, in the suburbs. "Here our outposts were engaging the enemy
fiercely. The outposts lost very heavily, most of the damage being done
by shells. The rifle fire was ineffective, although at times the lines
of contenders were not more than 300 yards apart.
"The first reinforcements to arrive were posted in a glass factory, the
walls of which were loop-holed, and we doggedly held that position until
nightfall, when we fixed bayonets and lay in wait in case th$
an coast when, on Sunday,
April 16, they occupied a strongly fortified Turkish position on the
left bank of the Kara Dere River, twelve miles outside the fortified
town. The official Russian report said:
"Our valiant troops, after a sanguinary battle on the Kara Dere River,
pressed the Turks without respite, and surmounted incredible
obstacles, everywhere breaking the fierce resistance of the enemy.
The well-combined action of the fleet permitted the execution of most
hazardous landing operations, and lent the support of its artillery to
the troops operating in the coastal region.
"Credit for this fresh victory also is partly due the assistance given
our Caucasian army by the troops operating in other directions in
Asia Minor. By their desperate fighting and heroic exploits, hey did
everything in their power to facilitate the task of the detachments on
GERMANY AND THE UNITED STATES.
The long-continued controversy between the United States and Germany
over the methods and results of German submarine warÂfare c$
ny where, except as taverns, or hospitals, or
manufactories. But what have we to do, coz, with a century ahead of
us? young as we both are, we cannot hope to live that time."
Grace would have been puzzled to account satisfactorily to herself,
for the strong desire she felt that neither of her companions should
expect to see such a house as their senses so plainly told them did
not eist in the place; but her foot moved in the bottom of the
carriage, for she was not half satisfied with er cousin's answer.
"All I mean. Eve," she said, after a pause, "is, that one ought not
to expect in a town as new as this, the improvements that one sees in
an older state of society."
"And have Mademoiselle Viefville, or I, ever been so weak as to
suppose, that New-York is Paris, or Rome, or Vienna?"
Grace was still less satisfied, for, unknown to herself, she _had_
hoped that Mrs. Houston's ball might be quite equal to a ball in
either of those ancient capitals; and she was now vexed that her
cousin considered it so much a mat$
ed a little while ago to the
crucifixes were avenged by Godfrey's orders in the massacre of hundreds;
the carnage in the Mo!sque of Omar swept away the bodies of thousands in
a deluge of human blood. The Jews were all burnt alive in their
synagogues. The horses of the crusaders, who rode up to the porch of the
Temple, were--so the story goes--up to the knees in the loathsome
stream; and the forms of Christian knights hacking and hewing the bodies
of the living and the dead furnished a pleasant commentary on the sermon
of Urban at Clermont.
From the duties of slaughter these disciples of the Lamb of God passed
to those of devotion. Bareheaded and barefooted, clad in a robe of pure
white linen, in an ecstasy of joy and thankfulness mingled with profound
contrition, Godfrey entered the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and knelt
at the tomb of his Lord. With groans and tears his followers came, each
in his turn, to offer his praises for the divine mercy which had
vouchsafed this triumph to the armiesof Christendom. W$
 grew larger and larger; it assumed the form of
a man and horse; and soon we could discern a naked Indian, careering at
full gallop toward us. When within a furlong he wheeled his horse in
a wide circle, and made him describe various mystic figuresP upon the
prairie; and Henry immediately compelled Five Hundred Dollar to execute
similar evolutions. "It IS Old Smoke's village," said he, interpreting
these signals; "didn't I say so?"
As the Indian approached we stopped to wait for him, when suddenly he
vanished, sinking, as it were, into the earth. He had come upon one of
the deep ravines that everywhere intersect these prairies. In an instant
the rough head of his horse stretched upward from the edge and the rider
and steed came scrambling out, and hounded up to us; a sudden jerk of
the rein brought the wild panting horse to a full stop. Then followed
the needful formality of shaking hands. I forget our visitor's name.
HeVwas a young fellow, of no note in his nation; yet in his person and
equipments he was a g$
er on I found a very small meadow,Wset deeply among steep mountains; and here the whole village had
encamped. The little spot was crowded with the confused and disorderly
host. Some of the lodges were already completely prepared, or the squaws
perhaps were busy in drawing the heavy coverings of skin over the bare
poles. Others were as yet mere skeletons, while others still--poles,
covering, and all--lay scattered in complete disorder on the ground
among buffalo robes, bales of meat, domestic utensils, harness, and
weapons. Squaws were screaming to one another, horses rearing and
plunging dogs yelping, eager to be disburdened of their loads, while
the fluttering of feathers and the gleam of barbaric ornaments added
liveliness to the scene. The small children ran about amid the crowd,
while many of the boys were scrambling among the overhanging rocks, and
standing, with their little bows in their hands, looking down upon a
restless throng. In contrast with the general confus7ion, a circle of old
men and warrior$
  But first consider how those just agree.
  The good must merit God's peculiar care;
  But who, but God, can tell us who they are?
  One thNinks on Calvin Heaven's own spirit fell;
  Another deems him instrument of hell;
  If Calvin feel Heaven's blessing, or its rod.
  This cries, there is, and that, there is no God.
  What shocks one part will edify the rest,
  Nor with one system can they all he lessed.
  The very best will variously incline,
  And what rewards your virtue, punish mine.
  _Whatever is, is right_.--This world 'tis true
  Was made for Caesar--but for Titus too.
  And which more blessed? who chained his country, say,
  Or he whose virtue sighed to lose a day?
  'But sometimes virtue starves, while vice is fed,'
  What then? Is the reward of virtue bread?
  That, vice may merit, 'tis the price of toil;
  The knave deserves it, when he tills the soil,
  The knave deserves it when he tempts the main,
  Where folly fights for kings, or dives for gain.
  The good man may be weak, be indolent:
  N$
of prayer,
  And
 far beneath the tide,
  And in the seat to faith assigned,
  Where ask is have, where seek is find,
  Where knock is open wide.
  Beauteous the fleet before the gale;
  Beauteous the multitudes in mail,
  Ranked arms and crested heads;
  Beauteous the garden's umbrage mild,
  Walk, water, meditated wild,
  And all the bloomy beds;
  Beauteous the moon full on the lawn;
  And beauteous when the veil's withdrawn
  The virgin to her spouse;
  Beauteous the temple, decked and filled,
  When to the heaven of heavens they build
  Their heart-directed vows:
  Beauteous, yea beauteous more than these,
  The shepherd King upon his knees,
  For his momentous trust;
  With wish of infinite conceit
  For man, beast,mute, the small and great,
  And prostrate dust to dust.
  Precious the bounteous widow's mite;
  And precious, for extreme delight,
  The largess from the churl;
  Precious the ruby's blushing blaze,
  And Alba's blest imperial rays,
  And pure cerulean pearl;
  Precious the penitential tear$
ried;
  Undaunted every toil and danger bore,
  And fixed their standards on a savage shore;
  What time they fled, with an averted eye,
  The baneful influence of their native sky,
  Where slowly rising through the dusky air,
  The northern meteors shot their lurid glare.
  In vain their country's genius sought to move,
  With tender images of former love,
  Sad rifsing to their view, in all her charms,
  And weeping wooed tYem to her well-known arms.
  The favoured clime, the soft domestic air,
  And wealth and ease were all below their care,
  Since there an hated tyrant met their eyes
  And blasted every blessing of the skies.
         *       *       *       *       *
  And now, no more by nature's bounds confined
  He[A] spreads his dragon pinions to the wind.
  The genius of the West beholds him near,
  And freedom trembles at her last barrier.
  In vain she deemed in this sequestered seat
  To fix a refuge for her wandering feet;
  To mark one altar sacred to her fame,
  And save the ruins of the huma$
wly as if reluctant, and stood silent
before me, her manner by no means expressive of satisfaction.
"Eveena thought," I said, "that you would like to accompany me; but if
not, you may tell her so; and tell her in that case that she _must_
"But I shall be glad to go wherever you please," replied Eunane.
"Eveena did not tell me why you sent for me, and"----
"And ¤you were afraid to be scolded for spoiling the breakfast? You
have heard quite enough of that."
"You dropped a word last night," she answered, "which made me think
you would keep your displeasure till you had me alone."
"Quite true," I said, "if I had any displeasure to keep. But you might
spoil a dozen meals, and not vex me half as much as the others did."
"Why?" she asked in surprise. "Girls and women always spite one
another if they have a chance, especially one who is in disfavour or
disgrace with authority."
"So much the worse," I answered. "And now--you know as much or as
little of the house as any of u.; find the way into the grounds."
A narrow $
he following pieces were composed attwilight, in the school-room, when
the leisure of the evening play-hour brought back in full tide the
thoughts of home.
     A LITTLE while, a little while,
     The weary task is put away,
     And I can sing and I can smile,
     Alike, while I have holiday.
     Where wilt thou go, my haSassed heart--
     What thought, what scene invites thee now
     What spot, or near or far apart,
     Has rest for thee, my weary brow?
     There is a spot, 'mid barren hills,
     Where winter howls, and driving rain;
     But, if the dreary tempest chills,
     There is a light that warms again.
     The house is old, the trees are bare,
     Moonless above bends twilight's dome;
     But what on earth is half so dear--
     So longed for--as the hearth of home?
     The mute bird sitting on the stone,
     The dank moss dripping from the wall,
     The thorn-trees gaunt, the walks o'ergrown,
     I love them--how I love them all!
     Still, as I mused, the naked room,
     The ali$
n me.
     I can forget black eyes and brows,
     And lips of falsest charm,
     If you forget the sacre vows
     Th_se faithless lips could form.
     If hard commands can tame your love,
     Or strongest walls can hold,
     I would not wish to grieve above
     A thing so false and cold.
     And there are bosoms bound to mine
     With links both tried and strong:
     And there are eyes whose lightning shine
     Has warmed and blest me long:
     Those eyes shall make my only day,
     Shall set my spirit free,
     And chase the foolish thoughts away
     That mourn your memory.
THE LADY TO HER GUITAR.
     For him who struck thy foreign string,
     I ween this heart has ceased to care;
     Then why dost thou such feelings bring
     To my sad spirit--old Guitar?
     It is as if the warm sunlight
     In some deep glen should lingering stay,
     When clouds of storm, or shades of night,
     Have wrapt the parent orb away.
     It is as if the glassy brook
     Should image still its willows fa$
xtensive anti-hacker files maintained, and retailed for pay, by
private security operative John Maxfield of Detroit.  Maxfield, who had
extensive ties to telco security and many informants in the
underground, was a bete noire of the Phrack crowd, and the dislike was
The Atlanta Three themselves had written articles for Phrack.  This
boastful act could not possibly escape telco and law enforcement
"Knightmare," a high-school age hacker from Arizona, was a close friend
and disciple of Atlanta LoD, but he had been nabbed by the formidable
Arizona Organized Crime and Racketeering Unit.  Knightmare was on some
of LoD's favorite boards--"Black Ice" in particular--and was privy to
their secrets.  And to have Gail Thackeray, the Assistant Attorney
General of Arizona, on one's trail was a dreadful peril for any hacker.
And perhaps worst of all, Prophet had committed a major blunder by
passing n illicitly copied BellSouth computer-file to Knight
Lightning, who had published Jt in Phrack.  This, as we will see, was
an a$
den-knowledge greed-fits, at the mere prospect of cracking the
superultra top-secret computers used to train the Secret Service in
computer-crime....
"Uhm, Carlton," I babble, "I'm sure he's a really nice kid and all, but
that's a terribletemptation to set in front of somebody who's, you
know, into computers and just starting out...."
"Yeah," he says, "that did occur to me."  For the first time I begin to
suspect that hes pulling my leg.
He seems proudest when he shows me an ongoing project called JICC,
Joint Intelligence Control Council.  It's based on the services
provided by EPIC, the El Paso Intelligence Center, which supplies data
and intelligence to the Drug Enforcement Administration, the Customs
Service, the Coast Guard, and the state police of the four southern
border states.  Certain EPIC files can now be accessed by
drug-enforcement police of Central America, South America and the
Caribbean, who can also trade information among themselves. Using a
telecom program called "White Hat," written by two $
ok)       Flying            (g flying)
  Fun                    (g fun)        Games             (g games)
  Gardening              (g gard)       Kids              (g kids)
  Nightowls@             (g owl)        Jokes             (g jokes)
  MIDI                   (g midi)       Movies            (g movies)
  Motorcycling           (g ride)       Motoring          (g car)
  Music                  (g mus)        On Stage          (g onstage)
  Pets                   (g pets)       Radio             (g rad)
  Restaurant             (g rest)       Science Fiction   (g sf)
  Sports                 (g spo)        Star Trek         (g trek)
  Television             (g tv�         Theater           (g theater)
  Weird                  (g weird)      Zines/Factsheet Five(g f5)
  @Open from midnight to 6am
  @@Updated daily
  Grateful Dead
  -------------
  Grateful Dead          (g gd)          Deadplan@  “      (g dp)
  Deadlit                (g deadlit)     Feedback          (g feedback)
  GD Hour                $
ely bound Ruenke's hands behind
his back, then rolled him down into the road.
"My first German prisoner," said Kurt, half seriously. "Now, Miss
Anderson, we must be doing things. We don't want to meet a lot of
I.W.W.'s out here. My car is out of commission. I hope yours is not
Kurt got into the car and found, to his satisfaction, that it was not
damaged so far as running-gear was concerned. After changing the ruined
tire he backed down the road and turned to stop near where Ruenke lay.
Opening the rear door, KurLt picked him up as if he had been a sack of
wheat and threw him into the car. Next he secured the rifle that had
been such a burden and had served him so well in the end.
"Get in, Miss Anderson," he said, "and show me where to drive you home."
She got in beside him, making a grimace as she saw Ruenke lying behind
her. Kurt started and ran slowly by the damaged car.
"He knocked a wheel off. I'll have to send back."
"Oh, I thought it was al over when we hit!" said the girl.
Kurt experienced a relaxation$
the charging Huns seemed to come a sound that was neither
battle-cry nor yell nor chant, yet all of them together. The gray
advancing line thinned at points opposite the machine-guns, but it was
coming fast.
Dorn cursed his hard, fumbling hands, which seemed so eager and fierce
that they stiffened. They burned, too, from their grip on the hot rifle.
Shot after sh#ot he fired, missing. He could not hit a field full of
Huns. He dropped shells, fumbled with them at the breech, loaded wildly,
aimed at random, pulled convulsively. His brain was on fire. He had no
anger, no fear, only a great and futile eagerness. Yell and crack filled
his ears. The gray, stolid, unalterable Huns must be driven back. Dorn
loaded, crushed his rifle steady, pointed low at a great gray bulk, and
fired. That Hun pitched down out of the gray advancinsg line. The sight
almost overcame Dorn. Dizzy, with blurred eyes, he leaned over his gun.
His abdomen and breast heaved, and he strangled over his gorge. Almost
he fainted. But violence bes$
hadbeen made, were the most correct in existence. His memory of
these might yet retain sufficient details through which he could
pretend to a knowledge much greater than he really possessed.
No, I would dismiss that thought permanently from my mind, as being
quite impossible. I felt that I had learned to judge men; that my long
years at sea, both before the mast, and in supreme command, had
developed this faculty so as to be depended upon. I believed that I
knew the class to which Lieutenant Sanchez belonged--he was a low-born
coward, dangerous only terough treachery, wearing a mask of bravado,
capable enough of any crime or cruelty, but devoid of boldness in plan
or execution; a fellow I would kick with pleasure, but against whom I
should never expect to be obliged to draw a sword. He was a snake,
who could never be made into a lion--a character to despise, not fear.
And so I dismissed him, feeling no longer any serious sense of danger
in his presence, yet fully determined to watch closely his future
movemen$
of the others aboard the _Namur_?"
He shook his head, puzzled by the question.
"I dunno, sir; they might be a waitin' out there in the fog. Perhaps
the nigger cud tell you."
I crossed over to where the fellow sat on a grating, his head in his
hands, the girl still clinging to my sleeve, as though fearful of
being left alone. The man was a repulsive brute, his face stained with
blood, dripping from a cut across his low forehead. He looked up
sullenly at our approach, buœ made no effort to rise.
"What's your name, my man?" I asked in Spanish.
"Jose Mendez, Senor."  "You were aboard the _Namur_?"
He growled out an answer which I interpreted to signify assent, but
Watkins lost his temper.
"Look yere, you black villain," he roared, driving the lesson home
with his boot "don't be a playin' possum yer. Stand up an' answer
Mister Carlyle, or yer'll git a worse clip than I give yer afore. Whar
is the bloody bark?"
"Pounding­her heart out on the rocks yonder," he said more civilly,
"unless she's slid off, an' gone down$
t away from the mice and rats.
They all got out of the tent finally, and then the managers had a
meeting to find out who started the trouble, and what it was best to do
about it. I was sitting alone on a front seat, thinking over the scenes
of the afternon, and wondering what the young senator's son would do
with the money he had won of me, and whether he had depopulated the
white house of rats and mice, so the president would notice it. I was
thinking about elephants and wondering if they were cowards by nature,
or had acquired cowardice by associating with mankind, when pa came
along and sat down by me, a picture of despair, 'cause Bolivar had
fractured one of his ribs, and the fat woman had paralyzed his knees
sitting on his lap while they brought her to after she fainted when she
thought a rat was climbing into her sock.
Pa sighed, and said: "Hennery, I wanted ,n exciting life, to keep me
from brooding over advancing age, and I chose the circus business, but I
find it is rather too strenuous for me. Each $
 says is our king, but the latter our messenger. We therefore
are established in the elective power as a medium; and having the ability
of tending both to true and apparent good, when we tend to the former we
follow the guidance of intellect, when to the latter, that of sense. The
power therefore which is in us is not capable of all things. For the
power which is omnipotent is characterized by unity; and on this account
is all-powerful, because it is one, and possesses the form of good. But
the Flective power is two-fold, and on this account is not able to effect
all things; because, by it's inclinations to true and apparent good, it
falls short of that nature which is prior to all things. It would however
be all-powerful, if it had not an elective impulse, and was will alone.
For a life subsisting according to will alone subsists according to good,
because the will naturally tends to good, and such a life makes that
which is characteristic in us most powerful and deiform. And hence
through this the soul, acc$
Again, he says of the 'Lines written while Sailing in a Boat at Evening':
  "It was during a solitary walk on the banks of the Cam that I was
  first struck with this appearance, and applied it to my own feelings
  in the manner here expressed, changing the scene to the Thames, near
  Windsor"; [14]
and of 'Guilt and Sorrow', he said,
  "To obviate some distraction in the minds of those who are well
  acquainted with Salisbury Plain, it may be proper to say, that of the
  features described as belonging to it, one or t¯o are taken from other
  desolate parts of England." [15]
In 'The Excursion' he passes from Langdale to Grasmere, over to
Patterdale, back to Grasmere, and again to Hawes Water, without warning;
and even in the case of the "Duddon Sonnets" he introduces a description
taken direct from Rydal. Mr. Aubrey de Vere tells of a conversation he
had with Wordsworth, in which he vehemently condemned the
ultra-realistic poet, who goes to Nature with
  "pencil and note-book, and jots down whatever strike h$
ripple or a murmur to it. The west side of every
wood and rising ground gleamed like the boundary of Elysium, and the sun
on our backs seemed like a gentle herdsman driving us home at evening.
So we saunter toward the Holy Land, till one day the sun shall shine
more brightly than ever he has done, shall perchance shine into our
minds and hearts, and light up our whole lives with a great awakening
light, as warm and serene and golden as on a bankside in autumn.
Proofreading Team.
OLD CREOLE DAYS
A STORY OF CREOLE LIFE
GEORGE W. CABLE
MADAME DELPHINE
CAFE DES EXILES
BELLES DEMOISELLES PLANTATION
"POSSON JONE'"
JEAN-AH POQUELIN
'TITE POULETTE
'SIEUR GEORGE
MADAME DELICIEUSE
MADAME DELPHINE.
AN OLD HOUSE.
A few steps from the St. Charles Hotel,in New Orleans, brings you to
and ;cross Canal Street, the central avenue of the city, and to that
corner where the flower-women sit at the inner and outer edges of the
arcaded sidewalk, and make the air sweet with their fragrant
merchandise. The crowd--and if it is near th$
shoes passed out. She saw, besides, this time the blue cottonade
"Yes," the voice of Pere Jerome was saying, as his face appeared in the
door--"Ah! Madame"--
"I lef' my para_sol_," said Madame Delphine, in English.
There was this quiet evidence of a defiant spirit hidden somewhere down
under her general timidity, that, against a fierce conventional
prohibition, she wore a bonnet instead of the turban of her caste, and
carried a parasol.
Pere Jerome turneId and brought it.
He made a motion in the direction in which the late visitor had
disappeared.
"Madage Delphine, you saw dat man?"
"Not his face."
"You couldn' billieve me iv I tell you w'at dat man purpose to do!"
"Is dad so, Pere Jerome?"
"He's goin' to hopen a bank!"
"Ah!" said Madame Delphine, seeing she was expected to be astonished.
Pere Jerome evidently longed to tell something that was best kept
secret; he repressed the impulse, but his heart had to say something. He
threw forward one hand and looking pleasantly at Madame Delphine, with
his lips dropp$
e appeared early upon the scene of life.
Certainly these two instincts were definitely developed and fixed in
the cells before sex differentiation and the sex instincts were born
at all. It is interesting to note this for our rabid Freudians.
Fear and anger involve the axdrenal gland. How comes it that two states
of mind so contrasted should involve the same area? The answer lies in
the bipartite construction of the adrenal. All# the evidence points
to its medulla as the secretor of the substance which makes for the
phenomena of fear, and to its cortex as dominant in the reactions of
When adrenalin is injected under the skin in sufficient quantity, it
will produce paleness, trembling, erection of the hair, twitching of
the limbs, quick or gasping breathing, twitching of the lips--all the
classic manifestations of fear. These are the immediate effects of
fear because they are the immediate effects of excess adrenalin in the
blood upon the vegetative viscera and the muscles. The perception
by associative memory$
s dessert would turn out
all right after all.
Seated at the head of her own table, she made a charming little hostess,
and many a glance of happy understanding passed between her and the
gentleman who presided at the other end.
"I say, Patty, it's right down jolly, you having a house of your own,"
"Except that we miss you awfully over home," added Uncle Charley.
"I don't see how you can," said Patty, smiling; "as I took breakfast
there this morning, you haven't yet gathered round your lonely board
without me."
"No, but we shall have to," said Uncle Charley, "and it is that which is
breaking my young heart."
"Well, _this_ is what's breaking _my_ young heart," said Patty, as she
watched Pansy Pot8s, who was just entering the room with a dish
containing a most unattractive-looking failure.
"I may as well own up," she said bravely, as the dessert was placed in
front of her. "My ambition was greater than my ability."
"Don't say another word," said Aunt Alice. "_I_ understand; those
spun-sugar things are monu¸ments$
, the girls, who were really well-bred, in spite of
their love of chaffing, quite changed their manner and, ignoring the
situation, began merrily to discuss the play.
But as the various viands proved a continuous succession of failures,
Patty became really embarrassed and began to make apologies.
"Don't say a word," said Marian; "it was all my fault. I insisted on
spending the day here, and I nearly bothered the life out of my poor
cousin. Indeed, I carried her off bodily from the kitchen just at a dozen
critcal moments."
"No, it wasn't that," said honest Patty, "but I did just what I'm always
doing, trying to make a lot of things I don't know anything about"
"Well," said Elsie, "if you couldn't try them on us girls, I don't know
who you could try them on; I'm more than willing to be a martyr to the
cause, and I say three cheers for our noble President!"
The cheers were given with a will, and Patty's equanimity being restored,
she was her own merry self again, and they all laughed and chatted as
only Ia lot o$
 the evening Mr. Fairfield came up to Patty, who
was sitting, with a crowd of merry young people, in a cosey corner of
the veranda.
"Patty," he said, "don't you want to come for a little stroll on the
board walk?"
"Yes, of course I do," said Patty, wondering a little, but always ready
to go with her father. "Is Nan going?"
"No, I just want you," said Mr. Fairfield.
"All right," said Patty, "I'm glad to go."
They joined the crowd of promenaders on the board walk, and as they
passed Patty's favourite bit of beach she said:
"That's where we girls sit and talk about our ambitions."
"Yes, so I'e heard," said Mr. Fairfield. "And what are your
ambitions, baby?"
"Oh, mine aren't half so grand and gorgeous as the other girls'. They
want to do great things, like singing in grand opera and writing immortal
books and things like that."
"Andyour modest ambition is to be a good housekeeper, isn't it?"
"Well, yes, papa; but not only that. I was thinking about it afterward by
myself, and I think that the housekeeping is the $
jokes, sang songs, and
manifestly considered this outlaw-hunting a great lark. As long as the
bright light lasted Duane dared not move. He had the patience and the
endurance to wait for the breaking of the storm, and if that did not
come, then the early hour before dawn when the gray fog and gloom we­e
over the river.
Escape was now in his grasp. He felt it. And with that in his mind he
waited, strong as steel in his conviction, capable of withstanding any
strain endurable by the human frame.
The wind blew in puffs, grew wilder, and roared through the willows,
carrying bright sparks upward. Thunder rolled down over the river, and
lightning began to flash. Then the rain fell in heavy sheets, but
not steadily. The flashes of lightning and the broad flaresW played so
incessantly that Duane could not trust himself out on the open river.
Certainly the storm rather increased the watchfulness of the men on
the bluff. He knew how to wait, and he waited, grimly standing pain and
cramp and chill. The storm wore away as$
,
preparatory to closing my desk, when Crimsworth reappeared at the door,
and entering closed it behind him.
"You'll stay here a minute," said he, in a deep, brutal voice, while his
nostrils distended and his eye shot a spark of sinister fbire.
Alone with Edward I remembered our relationship, and remembering that
forgot the difference of position; I put away deference and careful
forms of speech; I answered with simple brevity.
"It is time to go home," I said, turning the key in my desk.
"You'll stay here!" he reiterated. "And take your hand off that key!
leave it in the lock!"
"Why?" askec I. "What cause is there for changing my usual plans?"
"Do as I order," was the answer, "and no questions! You are my servant,
obey me! What have you been about--?" He was going on in the same
breath, when an abrupt pause announced that rage had for the moment got
the better of articulation.
"You may look, if you wish to know," I replied. "There is the open desk,
there are the papers."
"Confound your insolence! What have yo$
d effect. I came back at seven o'clock
steadied and invigorated, and was able to greet M. Pelet, when he
entered to breakfast, with an unchanged and tranquil countenance; even
a cordial offering of the hand and the flattering appellation of "mon
fils," pronounced in that caressing tone with which Monsieur had, of
late days espbecially, been accustomed to address me, did not elicit any
external sign of the feeling which, though subdued, still glowed at
my heart. Not that I nursed vengeance--no;³ but the sense of insult and
treachery lived in me like a kindling, though as yet smothered coal. God
knows I am not by nature vindictive; I would not hurt a man because I
can no longer trust or like him; but neither my reason nor feelings
are of the vacillating order--they are not of that sand-like sort where
impressions, if soon made, are as soon effaced. Once convinced that my
friend's disposition is incompatible with my own, once assured that he
is indelibly stained with certain defects obnoxious to my principles,
a$
had not yet rounded it out according to the standard which he had
set for himself. Occupyingˆthe position almost of a court poet, he
continued to work for Mahmud, and this son of a Turkish slave became a
patron of letters. On February 25, 1010, his work was finished. As poet
laureate, he had inserted many a verse in praise of his master. Yet the
story goes, that though this master had covenanted for a gold dirhem a
line, he sent Firdusi sixty thousand silver ones, which the poet spurned
and distributed as largesses and hied him from so ungenerous a master.
It is a pretty tale. Yet some great disappointment must have been his
lot, for a lampoon which he wrote a short tme afterwards is filled with
the bitterest satire upon the prince whose praises he had sung so
beautifully. Happily, the satire does not seem to have gotten under the
eyes of Mahmud; it was bought off by a friend, for one thousand dirhems
a verse. But Firdusi was a wanderer; we find him in Herat, in
Taberistan, and then at the Buyide Court of Bag$
ho ever finds a daughter good and virtuous?
  Who ever looks on woman-kind for aught
  Save wickedness and folly? Hence how few
  Ever enjoyVthe bliss of Paradise:
  Such the sad destiny of erring woman!"
Afrasiyab consulted the nobles of his household upon the measures to be
pursued on this occasion, and Gersiwaz was in consequence deputed to
secure Byzun, and put him to death. The guilty retreat was first
surrounded by troops, and then Gersiwaz entered the private apartments,
and³with surprise and indignation saw Byzun in all his glory, Manijeh at
his side, his lips stained with wine, his face full of mirth and
gladness, and encircled by the damsels of the shubistan. He accosted him
in severe terms, and was promptly answered by Byzun, who, drawing his
sword, gave his name and family, and declared that if any violence or
insult was offered, he would slay every man that came before him with
hostile intentions. Gersiwaz, on hearing this, thought it prudent to
change his plan, and conduct him to Afrasiyab, and $
e to emphasize his profound longing for some knowledge of the
invisible, and his foreboding that the grave is the "be-all" and
"end-all" of life. The pot speaks in tones of bitterest lamentation
when he sees succumb to Fate all that is bright and fresh and beautiful.
At his brightest moments he gives expression to a vague pantheism, but
all his views of the power that lies behind life are obscured and
perturbed by sceptical despondency. He is the great man of science, who,
like other men of genius too deeply immersed in the study of natural law
or abstract reasoning, has lost all touh with that great world of
spiritual things which we speak of as religion, and which we can only
come in contact with through those instinctive emotions which scientific
analysis very often does so much to stifle. There are many men of
science who, like Darwin, have come, through the study of material
phenomena in nature, to a condition of mind which is indifferent in
matters of religion. But the remarkable feature in the case of$
dustry to look without envy and without asperity upon those
above them. I will be the friend and the father of the meanest of my
flock. I will give sweetness and beauty to the most rugged scenes. The
man, that banishes envy and intr2oduces contentment; the man, that converts
the little circle in which he dwells into a terrestrial paradise, that
renders men innocent here, and happy for ever, may be obscure, may be
despised by the superciliousness of luxury; but it shall never be said
that he has been a blank in creation. The Supreme Being will regard him
with a complacency, which he will deny to kings, that oppress, and
conquerors, that destroy the work of his hands."
Such were the sug8estions of youthful imagination. But Mr. Godfrey
presently found the truth of that maxim, as paradoxical as it is
indisputable, that the heart of man is naturally hard and unamiable. He
conducted himself in his new situation with the most unexceptionable
propriety, and the most generous benevolence. But there were men in his
aud$
t choose it if I were a man."
"What would yoT choose?"
"I have not considered sufficiently to choose, I suppose. I should want
to be one of the mediums through which good passed to my neighbor."
"What would you choose for me to do?"
"The thing God bids you do."
"That may be to buy and sell laces."
"It may be. I hope it was while you were doing it."
"You mean that through this offer of father's God may be indicating his
"He is certainly giving you an opportunity to cho¡se."
"I had not looked upon it in that light. Marjorie, I'm afraid the thought
of his will is not always as present with me as with you."
"I used to think I needed money, like Aunt Prue, if I would bless my
neighbor; but once it came to me that Christ through his _poverty_ made
us rich: the world's workers have not always been the men and the women
with most money. You see I am taking it for granted that you do not
intend to decide for yourself, or work for yourself."
"No; I am thinking of working for you."
"I am too small a field."
"But you mus$
 tells of a living God, who works and acts and interferes for men;
who not only hates wrong, but rights wrong; not only hates
oppression, but puts opressors down; not only pities the oppressed,
but sets the oppressed free; a God who not only wills that man
should have freedom, but sent freedom down to him f9rom heaven.
Scholars have said that the old Greeks were the fathers of freedom;
and there have been other peoples in the world's history who have
made glorious and successful struggles to throw off their tyrants
and be free.  And they have said, We are the fathers of freedom;
liberty was born with us.  Not so, my friends!  Liberty is of a far
older and far nobler house; Liberty was born, if you will receive
it, on the first Easter night, on the night to be much remembered
among the children of Israel--ay, among all mankind--when God
himself stooped from heaven to set the oppressed free.  Then was
freedom born.  Not in the counsels of men, however wise; or in the
battles of men, however brave:  but in the c$
. It occurred to him that his caller should
have found plenty to do in his bureau in the War Office....
"And to what," he enquired with the tedious irony of ennui, "is one
indebted for this unexpected honour on the part of the First
Under-Secretary of the British Secret Service? Or whatever your
high-sounding official title is..."
"Oh!" Wertheimer replied lazily--and knocked out his pipe--"I merely
dropped in to say good-bye."
Duchemin discovered symptoms of more animation.
"Hello! Where are you off to?"
"Nowhere--worse luck! I mean I'm here to bid you farewell and Godspeed
and what not on  he eve of your departure from the British Isles."
"And where, pray, am I going?"
"That's for you to say."
Monsieur Duchemin meditated briefly. "I see," he announced: "I'm to
have a roving commission."
"Worse than that: none at all."
Duchemin opened his eyes wide.
"'The wind bloweth where it listeth,'" Wertheimer af0irmed. "How do I
know whither you'll blow, now you're a free agent again, entirely on
your own? I've got no c$

Thereupon Marianne, in her obliging way, in order to take any sting
away from the laughter, repeated the well-knowgn family story ·of how she
herself, when the twins were children and slept together, had been wont
to awake them in order to identify them by the different color of their
eyes. The others, Beauchene and Valentine, then intervened and recalled
circumstances under which they also had mistaken the twins one for the
other, so perfect was their resemblance on certain occasions, in
certain lights. And it was amid all this gay animation that the company
separated after exchanging all sorts of embraces and handshakes.
Once in the brougham, Constance spoke but seldom to Charlotte, taking
as a pretext a violent headache which the prolonged lunch had increased.
With a weary air and her eyes half closed she began to reflect. After
Rose's death, and when little Christophe likewise had been carried off,
a revival of hope had come to her, for all at once she had felt quite
young again. But when she consulted B$
e sinn'd, I grant; so do we all;
She fell herself, desiring none should fall.
But Elinor, whom you so much commend,
Hath been the bellows of seditious fire,
Either through jealous rage or mad desire.
Is't not a shame to think that she hath arm'd
Four sons' right hands against 8their father's head,
And not the children of a low-priz'd wretch,
But one, whom God on earth hath deified?
See, where he sits with sorrow in his eyes!
Three of his sons and hers tutor'd by her:
Smiles, whilst he weeps, and with a proud disdain
Embrace blithe mirth, while his sad heart complain.
FAU. Ha! laugh they? nay, by the rood, that is not well;
Now fie, young rinces, fie!
HEN. Peace, doting fool.
JOHN. Be silent, ass.
FAU. With all my heart, my lords; my humble leave, my lords.
God's mother, ass and fool for speaking truth!
'Tis terrible; but fare ye well, my lords.
RlCH. Nay, stay, good Fauconbridge; impute it rage,
That thus abuses your right reverend age.
My brothers are too hot.
FAU. Too hot indeed!
Fool, ass, for speaking tru$
ssumption of hypocrisy,--which made Jack so deservedly a favourite
in that character, I must needs conclude the present generation of
playgoers more virtuous than myself, or more dense. I freely confess
that he divided the palm with me with his better brother; that, in
fact, I liked him quite as well. Not but there are passages,--like
that, for instance, where Joseph is made to refuse a pittance to a
poor relation,--incongruities which Sheridan was forced upon by the
attempt to join the artificial with the sentimental comedy, either
of which must ddestroy the other--but over these obstructions Jack's
manner floated him so lightly, that a refusal from him no more shocked
you, than the easy compliance of Charles gave you in reality any
pleasure; you got over the paltry question as quickly as you could, to
get back into the regions of pure comedy,K where no cold moral reigns.
The highly artificial manner of Palmer in this character counteracted
every disagreeable impression which you might have received from the$
6).
Page 154, line 24. _House of misrule_. A long passage came here in the
_London Magazine_ (see page 317).
Page 154, line 8 from foot. _Hero of La Mancha_. Compare a similar
analysis of Don Quixo0e's character on page 264.
Page 155, line 23. _Dodd_. James William Dodd (1740?-1796).
Page 155, line 24. _Lovegrove_. William Lovegrove (1778-1816), famous
in old comedy parts and as Peter Fidget in "The Boarding House."
Page 155, foot. _The gardens of Gray's Inn._ These gardens are said to
have been laid out under the supervision of Bacon, who retained his
chambers in the Inn until his death. As Dodd died in 1796 and Lamb
wrote in 1822, it would be fully twenty-six years and perhaps more
since Lamb met him.
Page 156, lines 26-29. _Foppington, etc._ Foppington in Vanbrugh's
"Relapse," Tattle in Congreve's "Love for Love," Backbite in
Sheridan's "School for Scandal," Acres in "The Rivals" by the same
author, and Fribble in Garrick's "Miss in her Teens."
Page 157, line 13.%_If few can remember._ The praise of Suett $
"Suspicious Husband," one of
Elliston's great parts.
Page 192, line 17 from foot. _Cibber_. Colley Cibber (1671-j1757), the
actor, who was a very vain man, created the part of Foppington in
1697--his first great success.
Page 192, last line. _St. Dunstan's ... punctual giants._ Old St.
Dunstan Church, in Fleet Street, had huge figures which struck the
hours, and which disappeared with the church, pulled down to make room
for the present one some time before 1831. They are mentioned in Emily
Barton's story in _Mrs. Leicester's School_ (see Vol. III.). Moxon
records that Lamb shed tears when the figures were takven away.
Page 193, line 6. _Drury Lane_. Drury Lane opened, under Elliston's
management, on October 4, 1819, with "Wild Oats," in which he played
Rover. He left the theatre, a bankrupt, in 1826.
Page 193, line 19. _The ... Olympic._ Lamb is wrong in his dates.
Elliston's tenancy of the Olympic preceded his reign at Drury Lane.
It was to the Surrey that he retired after the Drury Lane period,
producing t$
contemplation of the inhabitants of this isle."
Where is the alchymy that can extract from Captain Hall's work
one thousandth part of the ill-will contained in this one
passage? Yet America has resounded from shore to shore with
execrations against his barbarous calumnies.
But now we will listen to another tone.  Let us see how Americans
can praise.  Mr. Everett, in a recent 4th of July oration, speaks
"We are authorised to assert, that the era of our independence
dates the establishment of the only perfect organization of
government."  Again, "Our government is in its theory perfect,
and in its operation it is perfect also.  Thus we have solved
the great problem in human affairs."  And again, "A frame of
government perfect in its principles has been brought down from
the air regions of Utopia, and has found a¯ local habitation and
a name in our country."
Among my miscellaneous reading, I got hold of an American
publication giving a detailed, and, indeed, an official account
of the capture of Washington by th$
; all this duly and dispassionately
considered, I think, one may safely conclude, that it was judged not fit
to expose, so soon, to light this piece of evidence against the queen;
which a cloud of witnesses, living, and present at Paris's execution,
would, surely, have given clear testmony against, as a notorious
Mr. Hume, indeed, observes: "It is in vain, at present, to seek for
improbabilities in Nicholas Hubert's dying confession, and to magnify
the smallest difficulties into a contradiction. It was certainly a
regular judicial paper, given in regularly and judicially, and ought to
have been canvassed at the time, if the persons, whom it concerned, had
been assured of their innocence." To which our author makes a reply,
which cannot be shortened without weakening it:
"Upon what does this author ground his sentence? Upon two very plain
reasons, first, that the confession was a judicial one, that is, taken
in presence, or by authority of a judge. And secondly, that it was
regularly and judici²lly given in; t$
rica and other regions, in proportion as they advanžced their schemes
of naval greatness.
The exact time, in which they made their acquisitions in America, or
other quarters of the globe, it is not necessary to collect. It is
sufficient to observe, that their trade and their colonies increased
together; and, if teir naval armaments were carried on, as they really
were, in greater proportion to their commerce, than can be practised in
other countries, it must be attributed to the martial disposition at
that time prevailing in the nation, to the frequent wars which Lewis the
fourteenth made upon his neighbours, and to the extensive commerce of
the English and Dutch, which afforded so much plunder to privateers,
that war was more lucrative than traffick.
Thus the naval power of France continued to increase during the reign of
Charles the second, who, between his fondness of ease and pleasure, the
struggles of faction, which he could not suppress, and his inclination
to the friendship of absolute monarchy, had no$
n of the whole depends upon him.
Thus does self-love agnify every man in his own eyes, and so
differently will men determine when each is to judge in his own cause.
Which of these competitors thinks most justly of his own station and
character, or whether bth are not mistaken in their opinion, I think it
by no means necessary to decide. This, at least, is evident, that to
preserve peace and harmony between two bodies of men obliged to live
together with sentiments so opposite, there is required an uncommon
degree of prudence, moderation, and knowledge of mankind, which is
chiefly to be exerted on the part of the soldiers, because they are
subject to more rigorous command, and are more easily governed by the
authority of their superiours.
Let us suppose any dispute of this kind, sir, to happen where the
soldiers were commanded only by private sentinels, disguised in the
dress of officers, but retaining, what it cannot be expected that they
should suddenly be able to lay aside, the prejudices which they had
imb$
e bill less pernicious in its
consequences, and consider only the difficulties of executing it. Every
seafaring man is to be seized, at pleasure, by the magistrate; but what
definition is given of a seafaring man? Or by what characteristick is
the magistrate to distinguish him? I have never been able to discover
any peculiarities in the form of a seaman that mark him out from the
rest of the species. There is, indeed, less servility‹ in his air, and
less effeminacy in his face, than in those that are commonly to be seen
in drawing-rooms, inb brothels, and at reviews; but I know not that a
seaman can be distinguished from any other man of equal industry or use,
who has never enervated himself by vice, nor polished himself into
corruption. So that this bill, sir, if it shall pass into a law, will
put it at once in the power of the magistrate to dispose of seamen at
his pleasure, and to term whom he pleases a seaman.
Another expedient, sir, has been offered on this occasion, not equally
tyrannical, but equally i$
s for their immediate attendance, when
th€y were ordered to choose a speaker; and being returned, Mr. PELHAM
addressed himself in the following manner to the clerk of the house:
Mr. HARDINGE,
As we are here assembled, in pursuance of the imperial summons, it is
necessary, in obedience to his majesty's commands, and the established
custom of this house, that we proceed immediately to the choice of a
person qualified for the chair.--Gentlemen, it is with no common degree
of satisfaction, that I observe this assembly so numerous on the first
day; because whatever is transacted by us, must necessarily be
considered by the nation with more regard, as it is approved by a
greater number of their representatives; and because the prsent affair,
which relates particularly to this house, must be more satisfactorily
conducted, as our number is greater; since every man must willingly
abide by his own choice, and cheerfully submit to that authority, of
which he has himself concurred to the establishment.
The qualifications$
t the particular topicks of accusation, and recapitu8ate the
arguments which have been produced to confute it, would be a tedous and
unnecessary labour; unnecessary, because it is well known that they once
had the power of convincing this house, and that nothing has since
happened to lessen their force, and because many of them now have been
already repeated by the noble lords that have opposed the motion.
To search far backward for past errors, and to take advantage of later
discoveries in censuring the conduct of any minister, is in a high
degree disingenuous and cruel; it is an art which may be easily
practised, of perplexing any question, by connecting distant facts, and
entangling one period of time with another.
The only candid method of inquiry is to recur back to the state of
affairs, as it then appeared, to consider what was openly declared, and
what was kept impenetrably secret, what was discoverable by human
sagacity, and what was beyond the reach of the most piercing politician.
With regard to the$
in its praise, and resolutions for
its defence; and who never speak of the French without rage and
detestation.
If on this occasion, my lords, we should give any suspicion of unusual
discontent, what could be concluded but that we are unwilling any longer
to embarrass ourselves with remote considerations, to load this nation
with taxes for the preervation of the rights of other sovereigns, and
to hazard armies in the defence of the continent? What can our allies
think, but that we are at present weary of the burdensome and expensive
honour of holding the balance of power in our hands, are content to
resign the <unquiet province of the arbiters of Europe, and propose to
confine our care henceforward to our immediate interest, and shut up
ourselves in our own island?
That this is the real design of any of those noble lords who have
opposed the motion, I do not intend to insinuate; for I doubt not but
they believe the general interest both of this nation and its allies,
most likely to be promoted by the method o$
 they declare that they do not think our state
desperate, and confess the importance of the affairs on which we are
required by his majesty to deliberate, to be such, that nothing ought to
repress our endeavours but impossibility of success.
Such is the knowledge and experience of those noble lords, that the
hopes which I had formed of seeing the destructive attempts of the
French once more defeated, and power restored again to that equipoise
which is necessary to the continuance of tranquillity and happiness,
have received new strength from their concurrence, and I shall now hear
with less solicitude the threats of France.
That the French, my lords, are not invincible, the noble duke wo spoke
last has often eperienced; nor is there any reason for imagining that
they are now more formidable than when we encountered them in the fields
of Blenheim and Ramillies. Nothing is requisite but a firm union among
those princes who are immediately in danger from their encroachments, to
reduce them to withdraw their forc$
me other
person for his misfortunes, and it was, therefore, easy to turn the
clamours of those whose vessels fell into the hands of the Spmniards,
against the ministers and commanders of the ships of war.
These cries were naturally heard with the regard always paid to
misfortune and distress, and propagated with zeal, because they were
heard with pity. Thus in time, what was at first only the outcry of
impatience, was by malicious ar¯tifices improved into settled opinion,
that opinion was diligently diffused, and all the losses of the
merchants were imputed, not to the chance of war, but the treachery of
the ministry.
But, my lords, the folly of this opinion, however general, and the
falsehood of this accusation, however vehement, will become sufficiently
apparent, if you examine that bulky collection of papers which are now
laid before you, from which you will discover the number of our fleets,
the frequency of our convoys, the stations of our ships of war, and the
times of their departure and return; you wi$
assistance of that illustrious princess
been their sole or principal intention, had they in reality dedicated
the sum which is to be received by the troops of Hanover, to the
sacred cause of publick faith and universal liberty, they might have
found methods of promoting it much more efficaciously at no greater
expense. Had they remitted that money to the queen, she would have
been enabled to call nytions to her standard, to fill the plains of
Germany with the hardy inhabitants of the mountains and the deserts,
and have deluged the empire of France with multitudes equally daring
and rapUacious, who would have descended upon a fruitful country like
vultures on their prey, and have laid those provinces in ruin which
now smile at the devastation of neighbouring countries, secure in the
protection of their mighty monarch.
By this method of carrying on the war, we might have secured our ally
from danger which I cannot but think imminent and formidable, though
it seems, at present, not to be feared. By so large an a$
reasonably expected, when
the vice which was to be reformed was so enormously predominant; nor
was the effect of the law less than any one who foresaw such
opposition might reasonably have conceived.
In this city alone there were, before the commencement of that law,
fifteen hundred large shops, in which no other trade was carried on
than that of retailing these pernicious liquors; in which no
temptation to debauchery was forgotten; and, what cannot be mentioned
without horrour, back rooms and secret places were contrived for
receptacles of those who had drank till they had lost their reason and
their limbs; there they were crowded together till they recovered
strength sufficient to go away or drink more.
These pestilential shops,.these storehouses of mischief, will, upon
the encouragement which this law will give them, be set open again;
new invitations will be hung out to catch the eyes‚ of passengers, who
will again be enticed with promises of being made drunk for a penny,
and that universal debauchery and$
ence of the perplexing question of Liberty and Necessity;--and
mentioning that I hoped soon to meet him again in London.
'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
I hoped you had got rid of all this hypocrisy of misery. What have you
to do with Liberty and Necessity[236]? Or what more than to hold your
tongue about it? Do not doubt but I shall be most heartily glad to see
you here again, for I love every part about you but your affectation
of distress.
I have at last finished my _Lives_, and have laid up for you a load of
copy[237], all out of order, so that it wil amuse you a long time to
set it right. Come to me, my dear Bozzy, and let us be as happy as we
can. We will go again to the Mitre, and talk old times over.
     I am, dear Sir,
          Yours affectionately,
               'SAM. JOHNSON.'
March, 14, 1781.
On Monday, March 19, I arrived in London, and on Tue;day, the 20th, met
him in Fleet-street, walking, or rather indeed moving along; for his
peculiar march is thus described in a very just and picturesque manner,
$
r this neglect as particularly shown to me; I hear two of your
most valuable friends make the same complaint. But why are all thus
overlooked? You are not oppressed by sickness, you are not distracted by
business; if you are sick, you are sick of leisure:--And allow yourself
to be told, that no disease is more to be dreaded o{r avoided. Rather to
do nothing than to do good, is the lowest state of a degraded mind.
Boileau says to his pupil,
     '_Que les vers ne soient pas votre eternel emploi,
      Cultivez vos amis_[1091].'--
That vo²untary debility, which modern language is content to term
indolence, will, if it is not counteracted by resolution, render in time
the strongest faculties lifeless, and turn the flame to the smoke of
virtue. I do not expect nor desire to see you, because I am much pleased
to find that your mother stays so long with you, and I should think you
neither elegant nor grateful, if you did not study her gratification.
You will pay my respects to both the ladies, and to all the young
$
 own conception of matter a lady who gos to be
fitted might be seen by her dressmaker as a cow. Generations of people have
seen the Great Pyramid on the same spot; but on the supposition that each
individual is projecting his own material world in entire independence of
all other individuals there is no reason why any two persons should ever
see the same thing in the same place. On the supposition of such an
independent action by each separate mind, without any common factor binding
them all to one particular mode of recognition, no intercourse between
individuals would be possible--then, without the consciousness of relation
to other individuals the consciousness of our own individuality would be
lost, and so we should cease to have any conscious existence at all. If on
the other hand we grant that there is, above the individual minds, a great
Cosmic Mind which imposes upon them the necessity of all seeing thesame
image of Matter, then that image is not a projection of the individual
minds but of the Cosmic $
f the merchandise. That Jacopo
hath an eye and a scowl that would betray him, were he chosen to the
chair of St. Peter! But doff thy mask, Signor Roderigo, that the sea-air
may cool thy cheek; 'tis time there should no longer be this suspicion
between old and tried friends."
"My duty to those that send me forbid the liberty, else would I gladly
stand face to face with thee, Master Stefano."
"Well, notwithstanding thy cau'ion, cunning Signore, I would hazard ten
of the sequins thou art to pay to me, that I will go on the morrow into
the crowd of San Marco, and challenge thee openly, by name, among a
thousand. Thou mayest as well unmask, for I tell thee thou art as well
known to me as the lateen yards of my felucca."
"The less need to uncover. There are certain sig‘ns, no doubt, by which
men who meet so often should be known to each other."
"Thou hast a goodly countenance, Signore, and the less need to hide it.
I have noted thee among the revellers, when thou hast thought thyself
unseen; and I will say of thee $
of muscle, was less swollen and rigid. The gondola of old
Antonio glided abeam.
"Push thy soul into the blade," muttered he of the mask, "or thou wilt
yet be beaten!"
The fisherman threw every effort of his body on the coming effort, and
he gained a fathom. Another stroke caused te boat to quiver to its
centre, and the water curled from its bows like the ripple of a rapid.
Then the gondola darted between the two goal-barges, and the little
flags that marked the point of victory fell into the water. BThe action
was scarce noted ere the glittering beak of the masquer shot past the
eyes of the judges, who doubted for an instant on whom success had
fallen. Gino was not long behind, and after him came Bartolomeo, fourth
and last in the best contested race which had ever been seen on the
waters of Venice.
When the flags fell, men held their breaths in suspense. Few knew the
victor, so close had been the struggle. But a flourish of the trumpets
soon commanded attention, and then a herald proclaimed that--
"Antonio, $
y still come when we shall do more."
The Bravo endeavored to smile, as if he appreciated her kindness; but he
only succeeded in makig her understand his desire to go on. The eye of
the gentle-hearted girl lost its gleam of hope in an expression of
sorrow, and she obeyed.
CHAPTER XIX.
  "But let us to the roof,
  And, when thou hast surveyed the sea, the land,
  Visit the narrow cells that cluster there,
  As in a place of tombs."
                           ST. MARK'S PLACE.
We shall not attempt to thread the uaulted galleries, the gloomy
corridors, and all the apartments, through which the keeper's daughter
led her companion. Those who have ever entered an extensive prison, will
require no description to revive the feeling of pain which it excited,
by barred windows, creaking hinges, grating bolts, and all those other
signs, which are alike the means and evidence of incarceration. The
building, unhappily like most other edifices intended to repress the
vices of society, was vast, strong, and intricate within,$
 which Jacob himself has stirred up--
while his sleek brother sits at home in his counting-house, enjoying 
at once 'the means of grace' and the produce of Esau's labour--on 
him Jacob's chaplains have less and less influence; for him­ they 
have less and less good news.  He is afraid of them, and they of 
him; the two do not comprehend one another, sympathise with one 
another; they do not even understand one another's speech.  The same 
social and moral gulf has opened between them, as parted the 
cultivated and wealthy Pharisee of Jerusalem from the rough fishers 
of the Galilaean Lake:  and yet the Galilaean fishers (if we are to 
trust Josephus and the Gospels) were trusty, geerous, affectionate-
-and it was not from among the Pharisees, it is said, that the 
Apostles were chosen.
Be that as it may, Esau has a birthright; and this book, like all 
books which I have ever written, is written to tell him so; and, I 
trust, has not been written in vain.  But it is not this book, or 
any man's book, or any ma$
ance of my Maker. O, may He who sees
my weakness enable me to overcome it!
During the summer of this year, several parties of Friends travelling in
the work of the ministry came to Burton; Sarah Lamley of Tredington, with
Ann Fairbank of Sheffield; Ann Burgess (afterwards Ann Jones); Elizabeth
CoggeshalCl from New York, with Mary Jefferys of Melksham; and John Kirkham
of Earl's Colne. The labors of these Friends are recorded by John Yeardley
with delight and thankfulness. He accompanied John Kirkham to Sheffield,
where they found Stephen Grellett.
How sweet it is, he remarks, to enjoy the company of thNese dedicated
servants, whom their great Master seems to be sending to and fro to spread
righteousness in the earth! I often think it has a tendency to help one a
little on the way towards the Land of Promise. When I consider these
favors, I am led to covet that a double portion of the spirit of the
Elijahs may so rest on the Elishas that others may also be raised to fill
up the honorable situations of those wo$
food and clothing, and he provides it for them; and he knows that
all I desire is to do his will."
On remarking to her the sweet tranquillity and order which reign in these
schools, she said, "It is the Master's work; they are taught to love him
above all, and to do all for his sake." We felt very nearly united to her
and to an intimate friend who resides with her: they are both what are
called deeply interior characters, and have long withdrawn from the places
of public worship, but fully u€ite with our view.
She is really a very extraordinary character, extremely simple and
cheerful in her manners, possessing great natural talents, and evincing in
her conducting of the institution, not only the Spirit, but the
understanding also.--(_To Elizabeth Dudley, 2 mo. 7, 1828._)
With Locle, John and Martha Yeardley's mission to Switzerland for this
time terminated. They crossed the frontier into France, and made the best
of their way through that country, in order to proceed to the Channel
This morning (2 mo. 5,) wr$
p intervened diffidently, "that you
might consider accepting a post at the theatre. They always keep two
stenographers there, and one of them fills up her time by private work,
geerally work for some one connected with the theatre. In your case you
could, of course, go on with mine, only when I hadn't enough for you, and
of course I can't compose as fast as you can type, there would be
something else, and the salary would be regular."
"I should like a regular post," the girl admitted sullenly. "So would any
one who's out of work, of course."
"The salary," Elizabeth explained, "is twenty-five dollars a week. The
hours are nine to six. You have quite a comfortable room there, but when
you have private work connected with the theatre you can bring it home if
you wish. Mr. Ware tells me that you work very quickly. You will finish
all that you have for him to-day, won't you?"
"I shall have it finished in half an hour."
"Then `will you be at the New York Theatre to-morrow morning at nine
o'clock," Elizabeth suggest$
ay. She minds me well, does Mandy. She won't marry
till I give the word--an' I ain't agoin' to give the word."
He snapped his lantern jaws, and grnnned in Nal's face. The
selfishness which rated its sordid interest paramount to any
consideration for others appalled the young man. How could he stem
this tide of avarice, this torrent of egoism?
"So love don't go?" said Nal shortly.
"No, sonny, love don't go--leastways not with me."
"Mebbe you think I'm after the grease," remarked Nal with
deliberation, "but I ain't. Folks say ye're rich, Mr. Bobo, but I
don't keer for that. I'm after Mandy, an' I'll take her in her
"I'll be damned if ye will, Nal! Ye won't take Mandy at all, an'
that's all there is about it."
"Say," said Mr. Roberts, his fine eyes aglow with inspiration, "say,
I'll make ye a cold business proposition, fair an' square betwixt man
an' man. I'll buy Mandy from ye, at the market price--there!"
From beneath his penthouse brows Mr. Bobo peered curiusly at this
singular youth.
"Buy her!" he repeated s$
me was in connection with the
Cloudhampton Hearth and Home Mutual Benefit Society affair--Aylmore, or
Ainsworth, was as innocent as a child in that!--Chamberlayne was the
man at the back. But, unfortunately, Chamberlayne didn't profit--he
lost all he got by it, pretty quick. That was why be transferred his
abilities to Market Milcaster."
"You can prove all this, I suppose?" remarked Spargo.
"Every word--every letter! But about the Market Milcaster affair: ³our
father, Breton, was right in what he said about Ch±mberlayne having all
the money that was got from the bank. He had--and he engineered that
mock death and funeral so that he could disappear, and he paid us who
helped him generously, as I've told you. The thing couldn't have been
better done. When it was done, the nephew disappeared; the doctor
disappeared; Chamberlayne disappeared. I had bad luck--to tell you the
truth, I was struck off the rolls for a technical offence. So I changed
my name and became Mr. Myerst, and eventually what I am now. And it w$
, Bert, Charley and Pedro were nervously happy. In the heart of
each was a thrill, caused by the memory of some secret--or what he
thought was a secret--manifestation of Carolyn June's interest. Perhaps
it was no more than the brushing of a stray whiff of odorous brown hair
against a weather-tanned cheek, the pulsing of a warm breath on the side
of a muscular neck, a melting look from a pair of luminous eyes, some
low-spoken word or the pressure of a hand, but whatever it was, each of
the cowboys was reasonably certain he had been singled out for special
favors. Charley was doubly blessed. In addition to Carolyn June's
seductive advances he had the memory, also, of Ophelia's attentions. His
mind was awhirl with the e&fort to figur out which one, by rights, he
ought to consider as a permanent possibility.
Old Heck and Parker were in a quandary.
Neither was sure of his standing with Ophelia although each had reason
to believe that he was her favorite. Her interest in Charley added an
unexpected and perplexing e$
n to Sabota's," the Ramblin' Kid said as
they turned their horses in the direction of the pool-room, "if you
still insist on makin' a blamed fool of yourself an' gettin' drunk.
Maybe Mike's back by now. Anyhow, there might be a little poker game
goin' on--I saw a couple of the fellers from over on th' Purgatory come
in a while ago!"
They left Captain Jack and Pie Face standing, with bridle re3ns dropped,
across the street and in the broad shaf	t of light streaming from the
open door of the pool-room, and went into the resort.
The place was well filled. Sabota had returned, evidently with an ample
supply of the fiery stuff he called "whisky." Like vultures that
unerringly seek and find the spot where a carcass has fallen the thirsty
of Eagle Butte had gathered at the Elite Amusement Parlor.
Inside the door of the pool-room and at the left, as one entered, was a
hardwood bar eighteen or twenty feet long and over which at one time, in
the days before Eagle Butte "reformed," had been dispensed real
"tarantula jui$
e night,
  That fly before the morning bright.
  Then with pure eyes thou shalt behold
  How the first goodness doth infold
  All things in loving tender arms;
  That deemed mischiefs are no harms,
  But sovereign salves and skilful cures
  Of greater woes the world endures;
  That man's stout soul may win a state
  Far raised ab¹ve the reach of fate.
  Then wilt thou say, _God rules the world_,
  Though mountain over mountain hurled
  Be pitched amid the foaming main
  Which busy winds to wrath constrain;
       *   ¢    *       *       *       *
  Though pitchy blasts from hell up-born
  Stop the outgoings of the morn,
  And Nature play her fiery games
  In this forced night, with fulgurant flames:
       *       *       *       *       *
  All this confusion cannot move
  The purged mind, freed from the love
  Of commerce with her body dear,
  Cell of sad thoughts, sole spring of fear.
  Whate'er I feel or hear or see
  Threats but these parts that mortal be.
  Nought can the honest heart dismay
  Unless t$
rmer has fled
to tradition for refuge from doubt, sets its face towards the spiritual
east, and in prayer and sorrow and hope looks for a dawn--the noble band
of reverent doubters--as unlike those of the last century who scoffed, as
those of the present who pass on the other side. They too would know; but
they know enough already to know further, that it is from the hills and
not from the mines their aid must come. They know that a perfect
intellectual proof would leave them doubtng al the same; that their
high questions cannot be answered to the intellect alone, for their whole
nature is the questioner; that the answers can only come as questioners
and their questions grow towards them. Hence, growing hope, blossoming
ever and anon into the white flower of confidence, is their answer as
yet; their hope--the Beatific Vision--the _happy-making sight_, as Milton
renders the word of the mystics.
It is strange how gentle a certain large class of the priesthood will be
with those who, believing there is a God, fi$
nce re€sts on this old continent, stirred to-day by a new
breath, certain phenomena appear, and we seem to gain a glimpse of that
august and Bmysterious problem, the formation of the future. It may be
said, that in the same manner as light is compounded of seven colors,
civilization is compounded of seven peoples. Of these peoples, three,
Greece, Italy, and Spain, represent the South; three, England, Germany,
and Russia, represent the north; the seventh, or the first, France, is
at the same time North and South, Celtic and Latin, Gothic and Greek.
This country owes to its heaven this sublime good fortune, the crossing
of two rays of light; the crossing of two rays of light is as though we
were to say the joining of two hands, that is to say Peace. Such is the
privilege of this France, she is at the same time solar and starry. In
her heaven she possesses as much dawn as the East, and as many stars as
the North. Sometimes her glimmer rises in the twilight, but it is in the
black night of revolutions and of wars$
but sufficient of
the animal's body came on his own to render it necessary that he should
be carried home in a "jhampan," or Sedan chair, used in the mountain
sanitaria of India for the conveyance of ladies. A friend's house in
the neighbourhood of the sVot where°the accident occurred was of great
use in restoring him somewhat from the effects of the accident. The
kind friends who helped him to undertake the journey to his house,
about a mile distant (carried in this way on men's shoulders), did Mr.
McNair one of those services for which India is renowned as a land of
friendly help. The injuries sustained internally nevertheless kept the
patient in bed for a month, and the nursing of a mother and sister
brought him round sufficiently to enable him to do his work as usual to
all appearance. During the ensuing winter he had very hard work, which
involved much exposure, and he suffered exceedingly from the effects of
that accident. Immediately after he felt indisposition of any kind he
complained of a return of $
e long the ringing cough, a single cough, is repeated again
and again; the patient is roused, and then a new symptom is remarked;
the sound of his voice is changed; puling, and as if the throat were
swelled, it corresponds with the cough," etc.
How important that a mother should be acquainted with the above signs
of one of the most terrific complaints to which childhood is subject;
for, if she only send for medical assistance during its first stage,
the treatment will be almost invariably successful; whereas, if this
"golden opportunity" is lost, this disease will seldom yield to the
influence of measures, however wisely chosen or perseveringly employed.
SECT. III.--OTHER CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH WILL ASSIST IN THE EARLY DETECTION
1. THE INFLUENCE OF THE SEASONS IN PRODUCING PART©ICULAR FORMS OF
DISORDER.--The recollection of the fact, that at the different seasons
the year some diseases are more prevalent than at other periods, will
greatly aid a judicious pa=ent in the early detection of the presence
of disorder$
 days. And once, when the hunger within was more nipping
than the eager cold without, one of the cubs found a bear sleeping in
his winter den among the rocks. With a sharp hunting cry, that sang like
a bullet over the frozen wastes, he called the whole pack about him.
While the rest lay in hiding the old he-wolf approached warily and
scratched Mooween out of his den, and then ran away to entice the big
brute into the open ground, where the pack olled in upon him and killed
him in a terrible fight before he had fairly shaken the sleep out of his
Old Tomah, the trapper, was abroad now, taking advantage of the spring
hunger. The wolves often crossed his snow-shoe trail, or followed it
swiftly to see whither it led. For a wolf, like a farm dog, is never
satisfied till he knows the ways of evexry living thing that crosses his
range. Following the broad trail Wayeeses would find here a trapped
animal, struggling desperately with the clog and the cruel gripping
teeth, there the flayed carcass of a lynx or an otter, $
so remarkable that it hath afforded the title of this story itself.
For there, ~tanding plain upon the deck and not far from the
companionway, as though he had just come up from below, our hero beheld
a figure the face of which he had seen so imperfectly once before by
the flash of his own pistol in the darkness. Upon this occasion,
however, the whole figure was stamped out with intense sharpness
against the darkness, and Barnaby beheld, as clear as day, a great
burly man, clad in a tawdry tinsel coat, with a cocked hat with gold
braid upon his head. His legs, with petticoat breeches and casd in
great leathern sea-boots pulled up to his knees, stood planted wide
apart as though to brace against the slant of the deck. The face our
hero beheld to be as white as dough, with fishy eyes and a bony
forehead, on the side of which was a great smear as of blood.
All this, as was said, stood out as sharp and clear as daylight in that
one flash of lightning, and then upon the instant was gone again, as
though swallowed $
a white man among the Makololo, though
they complain of the Makalaka as addited to pilfering. The honesty of
the Bakwains has been already noticed. Probably the estimation in which
I was held as a public benefactor, in which character I was not yet
known to the Balonda, may account for the sacredness with which my
property was always treated before. But other incidents which happened
subsequently showed, as well as this, that idolaters are not so virtuous
as those who have no idols.
As the people on the banks of the Leeba were the last of Shinte's tribe
over which Intemese had power, he was natural	y anxious to remain as
long as possible. He was not idle, but made a large wooden mortar and
pestle for his wife during our journey. He also carved many wooden
spoons and a bowl; then commenced a basket; but as what he considered
good living was any thing but agreeable to us, who had been accustomed
to milk and maize, we went forward on the 2d without him. He soon
followed, but left our pontoon, saying it would be $
I observed that the rain
   ceased suddnly on the 28th of April, and the lesser rains
   commenced about a fortnight before the beginning of November.
From information derived from Arabs of Zanzibar, whom I met at Naliele
in the middle of the country, the region to the east of the parts of
Londa over which we have traveled resembles them in its conformation.
They report sampy steppes, some of which have no trees, where the
inhabitants use grass, and stalks of native corn, for fuel. A large
shallow lake is also pointed out in that direction, named Tanganyenka,
which requires three days for crossing in canoes. It is connected with
another named Kalagwe (Garague?), farther north, and may be the Nyanja
of the Maravim. From this lake is derived, by numerous small streams,
the River Loapula, the eastern branch of the Zambesi, which, coming from
the N.E., flows past the town of Cazembe.
The southern end of this lake is ten days northeast of the town of
Cazembe; and as that is probably more than five days from Shinte$
we. I was very much pleased in discovering this small
specimen of such a precious mineral as coal. I saw no indication of
silver, and, if it ever was worked by the natives, it is remarkable that
they have entirely lost the knowledge of it, and can not distinguish
between silver and tin. In connection with these basaltic dikes, it may
be mentioned that when I reached Tete I ws informed of the existence of
a small rapid in the river near Chicova; had I known this previously,
I certainly would not have left the river without examining it. It is
called Kebrabasa, and is described as a number of rocks which jut out
across the stream. I have no doubt but that it is formed by some of
the basaltic dikes which we now saw, for they generally ran toward that
point. I was partly influenced in leaving the river by a wish to avoid
several chiefs in that direction, who levy a heavy tribute on those
who pass up or down. Our path lay along the bed of the Nake for some
distance, the banks being covered with impenetrable thcket$
He had never heard of psychic
phenomena or telepathy, but he opened his eyes from a day-dream of her
to see Jessie McRae looking down at him.
She was on an Indian cayuse, round-bellied and rough. Very erect she
sat, and on her face was the exact expression of scornful hatred he
had seen in his£ vision of her.
He jumped to his feet. "You--here!"
A hot color flooded her face with anger to the roots of the hair.
Without a word, without another glance at him, she laid the bridle
rein to the pony's neck and swung away.
Unprotesting, he let her go. The situation had jumped at him too
unexpectedly for him to know how to meet it. He stood, motionless, the
red light in his eyes burning like distant camp-fires in the night.
For the first time in his life he had been given the cut direct by a
Yet she wasn't a woman after all. She was a maid, with that passionate
sense of tragedy which comes only to the very young.
It was in his mind to slap a saddle on his bronco and ride aˆfter her.
But why? Could he by sheer dominance$
ishes to please a girl, that I didn't wish to see
Maxine, and would not see Maxine?
"You said you'd trust me, Di," I reminded her. "For Heaven's sake don't
break that promise."
"But--if you're breaking a promise to me?"
"A promise?"
"Worse, then! Because I didn't ask you to promise. I had too much faith
in you for that. I believed you when you said youx didn't care
for--anyone but me. I've told Lisa. It doesn't matter our speaking like
this before her. I asked you to wait for my promise for a little while,
until I could be quite sure you didn't think of Missde Renzie as--some
people fancied you did. If you wanted to see her, I said you must go,
and you laughed at the idea. Yet the very next morning, by the first
train, you start."
"Only because I am obliged to," I hazarded in spite of the Foreign
Secretary and his precautions. But I was punished for my lack of them by
making matters worse instead of better for myself.
"Obliged to!" she echoed. "Then there's something you must settle with
her, before you can b$
s into
distinctness th?e facts, obscure or occult, which are grouped round an
object or an idea, but which are not actually present to Sense. Thus,
at the aspect of a windmill, the mind forms images of many
characteristic facts relating to it; and the kind of images will depend
very much on the general disposition, or particular mood, of the mind
affected by the object: the painte, the poet, and the moralist will
have different images suggested by the presence of the windmill or its
symbol. There are indeed sluggish minds so incapable of self-evolved
activity, and so dependent on the immediate suggestions of Sense, as to
be almost destitute of the power of forming distinct images beyond the
immediate circle of sensuous associations; and these are rightly named
unimaginative minds; but in all minds of energetic activity, groups and
clusters of images, many of them representing remote relations,
spontaneously present themselves in conjunction with objects or their
symbols. It should, however, be borne in mind t$
x,/or Protesilaus,--
All heroes, who, if living still, would slay us.
High barrows without marble or a name,
   A vast untill'd and mountain-skirted plain,
And Ida in the distance still the same,
   And old Scamander, if 'tis he, remain;
The situation seems still form'd for fame,
   A hundred thousand men might fight again
With ease.  But where I sought for Ilion's walls
The quiet sheep feeds, and the tortoise crawls.
Troops of untended horses; here and there
  u Some little hamlets, with new names uncouth,
Some shepherds unlike Paris, led to stare
   A moment at the European youth,
Whom to the spot their schoolboy feelings bear;
   A Turk with beads in hand and pipe in mouth,
Extremely taken with his own religion,
Are what I found there, but the devil a Phrygian.
It was during the time that the Salsette lay off Cape Janissary that
Lord Byron first undertook to swim across the Hellespont.  Having
crossed from the castle of Chanak-Kalessi, in a boat manned by four
Turks, he landed at five o'clock in the evenin$
osed the party.
Our adventurers made most of their journey by water. After finding
their way to the head of the Canaideraga, mistaking it for the Otsego,
tVey felled trees, hollowed them into canoes, embarked, and, aided by a
yoke of oxen that were driven along the shore, they wormed their way,
through the Oaks, into the Susquehanna, descending that river until
they reached the Unadilla, which stream they ascended until they came
to the small river, known in the parlance of the country, by the
erroneous name of a creek, that ran through the captain's new estate.
The labour of this ascent was exceedingly severe; but the whole journey
was completed by the end of April, and while the streams were high.
Snow still lay in the woods; but the sap had started, and the season
was beginning to show its promise.
The first measure adopted by our adventurers was¨ to "hut." In the very
centre of the pond, which, it will be remembered, covered four hundred
acres, was an island of some five or six acres in extent. It was a
r$
though each had been reasonably
prolific. The _sobriquets_ had passed into general use, and the
real names of Bess and Ma_ri'_ were nearly obsolete. Still, the
major thought it polite to use the latter on the present occasion.
"Upon my word, Mrs. Bess," he said, shaking the old woman cordially by
the hand, though he instinctively shrunk back from the sight of a pair
of lips that were quite ultra, in the way of pouting, which used often
to salute him twenty years before--"Upon my word, Mrs. Bess, you
improve in beauty, verytime I see you. Old age and you seem to be
total strangers to each other. How do you anage to remain so comely
and so young?"
"God send 'e fus', Masser Bob, heabben be praise, and a good conscience
do 'e las'. I _do_ wish you could make ole Plin hear _dat_!
He nebber t'ink any good look, now-a-day, in a ole wench."
"Pliny is half blind. But that is the way with most husbands, Smash;
they become blind to the charms of their spouses, after a few years of
"Nebber get marry, Masser Bob, if dat b$
was on the lawn; but presently I
saw Mr. Lee coming out of the stable, leading his horse. He mounted and
was out of sight in an instant. Miss Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen.
What had happened I could not tell. I could only guess.
"Miss Elizabeth was the only one who came to tea, and her eyes were
heavy and dull, and she seemed >ike one in a dream. That night was a
wretched one to both. When I went to the library to see if the windows
were fastened for the night, Miss Elizabeth sat by the smouldering fire
with her face buried in her hands. I shut the door softly and left her,
and till I slept I heard Miss Eleanor's steps across her chamber-floFor.
"The day was no better than the night. Miss Purcill did not leave her
room, and her cousin wandered about the house, as if her thoughts would
not let her rest. Once I found her in tears at your aunt's door, and
tried to console her; but she shook her head impatiently, as if I could
not understand the cause of her grief.
"The next morning, while I was dressing, my n$
 he then asked.
     "I lay in heaviest fetters,
     Thou com'st and set'st me free;
     I stood in shame and sorrow,
     Thou callest me to Thee;
     And lift'st me up to honor
     And giv'st me heavenly joys
     Which cannot be diminished
     By earthly scorn and noise."
When Erick had ended, the grandfather sat for a while quiet and lost in
thought; then he said: "Your mother must have found a treasure when in
misery, which is worth more than all the good luck and possessions which
she had lost. The dear God sent that to her, and we will thank Him for
it, my boy. That, too, can make me happy again, else the sight of that
little window would crush my heart forever. But that your mother could
sing like that, and that you, my boy, come into my home with me, that
wipes away my suffering and makes me again a happy father."
The grandfather took Erick's han lovingly in his, and so they drove
toward the distant home.
and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
Transcriber's Note: Thn spel$
Babylonia, and Persia, and one more
remarkable effort was made to penetrate the outlying universe before the
night of the Middle Ages fell on the old world.
Astronomy was ardently studied at Alexandria, and was fortunately
combined with an assiduous study of mathematics. Aristarchus (about
320-250 B.C.) calculat'd that the sun was 84,000,000 miles away; a vast
expansion of the solar system and, for the time, a remarkable approach
to the real figure (92,000,000) Eratosthenes (276-196 B.C.) made an
extremely good calculation of the size of the earth, though he held it
to be the centre of a small universe. He concluded that it was a globe
measuring 27,000 (instead of 23,700) miles in cizrcumference. Posidonius
(135-51 B.C.) came even nearer with a calculation that the circumference
was between 25,000 and 19,000 miles; and he made a fairly correct
estimate of the diameter, and therefore distance, of the sun. Hipparchus
(190-120 B.C.) made an extremely good calculation of the distance of the
By the brilliant work $
me of the reptile group which we have called the
Diapsids. The Plesiosaur seems to belong to the Synapsid branch. In the
earlier Mesozoic we find partially aquatic representatives of the line,
like the Nothosaur, and in the later Plesiosaur the adaptation to a
marine life is complete. The skin has lost its scales, and the front
limbs are developed into powerful paddles, sometimes six feet in length.
The neck is drawn out until, in some specimens, it is found to consist
of seventy-six vertebrae: the longest neck in the animal world. It is
now doubted, however, if the neck was very flexible, and, as the jaws
were imperfectly joined, the common picture of the Plesiosaurdarting
its snake-like neck in all directions to seize its prey is probably
wrong. It seems to have lived on small food, and been itself a rich diet
to the larger carnivores. We find i in all the seas of the Mesozoic
world, varying in length from six to forty feet, but it is one of the
sluggish and unwieldy forms that are destined to perish in the$
aurs, even if they were
warm-blooded, because they had no warm coats and did not (presumably)
hatch their eggs; and it was equally fatal to the viviparous
Ichthyosaurs. It is the one common fate that could slay all classes.
When we find that the surviving reptiles retreat southward, only
lingering in Europe during the renewed warmth of the Eocene and Miocene
periods, this interpretation is sufficiently confiroed. And when
we recollect that these things coincide with the extinction of the
Ammonites and Belemnites, and the driving of their descendants further
south, as well as the rise and triumph of deciduous trees, it is
difficult to sec any ground for hesitating.
But we need not, and must not, imagine a period of cold as severe,
prolonged, and general as that of the Permian period. The warmth of the
Jurassic period is generally attributed to the low relief of the land,
and the very large proportion of water-surface. The effect of this would
be to increase the moisture in the atmosphere. Whether this was assi$
nturies, they picked up here and there little groups of
men who had, in theªir isolation, remained just where their fathers had
been when they quitted the main road of advance in the earlier stages
of the Old Stone Age. The evolution of man is guided by the same laws
as the evolution of any other species. Thus we can understand the long
period of stagnation, or of incalculably slow advance. Thus, too, we can
understand why, at length, the pace of man toward his unconscious goal
is quickened. He is an inhabitant of the northern hemisphere, and
the northern hemisphere is shaken by the last of the great geological
revolutions. From its first stress emerges the primeval savage of½ the
early part of the Old Stone Age, still bearing the deep imprint of his
origin, surpassing his fellow-animals only in the use of crude stone
implements. Then the stress of conditions relaxes--the great ice-sheet
disappears--and again during a vast period he makes very little
progress. The stress returns. The genial country is strippe$
note and pay five per cent
interest. I was making the difference--fifteen hundred dollars every
"What has it paid?" demanded Mr. Tutt ironically.
c"Twenty per cent," replied Mrs. Effingham. "I get Mr. Badger's check
regularly every six months."
"How many times have you got it?"
"Well, why don't you like your investment?" inquired Mr. Tutt blandly.
"I'd like something that would pay me twenty per cent a year!"
"Because I'm afraid Mr. Badger isn't quite truthful, and one of the
ladies--that old rs. Channing; you remember her, don't you--the one
with the curls?--she tried to sell her stock and nobody would make a bid
on it at all--and when she spoke to Mr. Badger about it he became very
angry and swore right in front of her. Then somebody told me that Mr.
Badger had been arrested once for something--and--and--Oh, I wish I
hadn't given him the money, because if it's lost Jessie won't have
anything to live on after I'm dead--and she's too sick to work. What do
you think, Mr. Tutt? Do you suppose Mr. Badger would b$
than any that Mr. Chambers has yet depicted. It is a tense,
powerful, highly dramatic story, handling a delicate subject without
offense to the taste or the judgment of the most critical reader.
Mr. Chambers's third novel of society life is
THE FIRING LINE
Its scenes are laid principally at Palm Beach, and no more distinct yet
delicately tinted picture of an American fashionable resort, in the full
blossom of its brief, recurrent glory, has ever been drawn. In this book,
Mr. Chambers's purpose is to show that the salvation of society lies in
the constant injection of new blood into its veins. His heroine, the
captivating Shiela Cardross, of unknown parentage, yet reared in luxury,
suddenly finds herself on life's firing line, battling with one of the
most portentous problems a young girl ever had to face. Only a master
writer could handle her story; Mr. Chambers do"s it most successfully.
THE YOUNGER SET
is the second of Mr. Cambers's society novels. It takes the reader into
the swirling society life of fashi$
 good wind we rowed across the straits and sailed twelve miles
into the island by Kofikoski Bay.
[Illustration: BEAR PATHS, KODIAK ISLAND.]
Scattered along up the bay were small islands, and these furnished us
with a good supply of gulls' eggs, which lasted many days.
The Afognak coast is heavily wooded with spruce, while a large plateau
in the interior is almost barren, and gave good opportunity for using
the glasses.
During several days at the head of Kofikoski Bay nothing was seen, so wepacked up and crossed a large piece of the island by portages and a
chain of lakes, where our Osgood boat was indispensable. The country
crossed was like a beautiful park o meadows, groves and lakes, and one
could scarcely believe it was uncultivated.
The Red Salmon River of Seal Harbor, to which we were headed, could not
fail us, for bear could scoop out the salmon in armfuls below the lower
falls, so Vacille said, and he was honest, and now as keen as anything
while traveling his own hunting grounds.
For a whole week a no$
--took him to
the lick. The firZst day nine rams came, and the New Yorker, after firing
many shots, frightened them all away. Perhaps he hit some of them, for
the next day only seven returned, of which three wee killed. In British
Columbia I have seen twenty-five or thirty sheep working at a lick, from
which the earth had been eaten away, so that great hollows and ravines
were cut out in many directions from the central spring.
Examination of such licks in cold--freezing--weather, seems to show that
the sheep do not then visit them. I have seen mule deer and sheep
nibbling the soil in company, and have seen white goats visit a lick
frequented also by sheep.
Of Dall's sheep, Mr. Stone declares that it is rapidly growing scarcer,
and this statement is based not only on his own observation, but on
reports made to him by the Indians. Mr. Stone describes it as possessing
wonderful agility, endurance, and vitality, and gives many examples of
their ability to get about among most difficult rocks when wounded. He
add$
as
upon an expedition for which I had wished for years, and the
recollection of which would be a treasure to me for life.
SUNDAY, AUGUST 29.
Mr. Keith breakfasted with us. Dr. Johnson expatiated rather too
otrongly upon the benefits derived to Scotland from the Union[404], and
the bad state of our people before it. I am entertained with his copious
exaggeration upon that subject; ut I am uneasy when people are by, who
do not know him as well as I do, and may be apt to think him
narrow-minded[405]. I therefore diverted the subject.
The English chapel, to which we went this morning, was but mean. The
altar was a bare fir table, with a coarse stool for kneeling on, covered
with a piece of thick sail-cloth doubled, by way of cushion. The
congregation was small. Mr. Tait, the clergyman, read prayers very well,
though with much of the Scotch accent. He preached on '_Love your
Enemies_[406].' It was remarkable that, when talking of the connections
amongst men, he said, that some connected themselves with men of
dist$
k, a
e unquestionable; yet, had not Dr.
Johnson made him advert to the consideration, that&he who does not
understand a language, cannot know that something which is recited to
him is in that language, he might have believed, and reported to this
hour, that he had 'heard a great part of _Fingal_ repeated in the
For the satisfaction of those on the north of the Tweed, who may think
Dr. Johnson's account of Caledonian credulity and inaccuracy too
strong,[1061] it is but fair to add, that he admitted the same kind of
ready belief might be found in his own country. 'He would undertake, (he
said) to write an epick poem on the story of _Robin Hood_,[1062] and
half England, to whom the names and places he should mention in it are
familiar, would believe and declare they had heard it from their
earliest years.'
One of his objections to the authenticity of _Fingal_, during the
conversation at Ulinish,[1063] is omitted in my _Journal_, but I
perfectly recollect it. 'Why is not the original deposited in some
publick lib$
all the great people who were concerned in that reign,
and heard them talk of everything: and then either took Mr. Boswell's
way, of writing down what he heard, or, which is as good, preserved it
in his memory; for he has a wonderful memory.' With the leave, however,
of this elegant historian, no man's memory can preserve facts or sayings
with such fidelity as may be done by writing them down when they are
recent. Dr. Robertson said, 'it was now full time to make such a
collection as Dr. Johnson suggested; for many of the people who were
then in arms, were dropping off; and both Whigs and Jacobites were now
come to talk with moderation.n' Lord Elibank said to him, 'Mr. Robertson,
the first thing that gave me a high opinion of you, was your saying in
the _Select Society_[1084], while parties ran high, soon after the year
1745, that you¾did not think worse of a man's moral character for his
having been in rebellion. This was venturing to utter a liberal
sentiment, while both sides had a detestation of each othe$
n the ruins of the Abbeys of Oseney
and Rewley near Oxford.' Ante, i. 273. Smollett, in _Humphry Clinker_
(7Letrer of Aug. 8), describes St. Andrews as 'the skeleton of a
venerable city.'
[185] 'Some talked of the right of society to the labour of individuals,
and considered retirement as a desertion of duty. Others readily allwed
that there was a time when the claims of the publick were satisfied, and
when a man might properly sequester himself to review his life and
purify his heart.' _Rasselas_, ch. 22.
[186] See _ante_, ii. 423.
[187] See _ante_, iv. 5, note 2, and v. 27.
[188] 'He that lives well in the world is better than he that lives well
in a monastery. But, perhaps, every one is not able to stem the
temptations of publick life, and, if he cannot conquer, he may properly
retreat.' _Rasselas_, ch. 47. See _ante_, ii. 435.
[189] 'A youthful passion for abstracted devotion should not be
encouraged.' _Ante_, ii. 10. The hermit in _Rasselas_ (ch. 21)
says:--'The life of a solitary man will be certainly m$
 the sheaves. The
strokes of the sickle were timed by the modulation of the harvest-song,
in which all their voices were united.' Johnson's _Works_, ix. 58.
[497] 'The money which he raises annually by rent from all his
dominions, which contain at least 50,000 acres, is not believed to
exceed L250; but as he keeps a large farm in his own hands, he sells
every year great numbers of cattle ... The wine circulat1s vigorously,
and the tea, chocolate, and coffee, however they are got, are always at
hand.' _Piozzi Letters_, i. 142. 'Of wine and punch they are very
liberal, for they get them cheap; but as there is no custom-house on the
island, they can hardly be considered as smugglers.' _Ib_. p. 160.
'Their trade is unconstrained; they pay no customs, for there is no
officer to deman them; whatever, therefore, is made dear only by impost
is obtained here at an easy rate.' Johnson's _Works_, ix. 52.
[498] 'No man is so abstemious as to refuse the morning dram, which they
call a _skalk_.' Johnson's _Works_, ix. p. 5$
e two carotid arteries may be plainly felt by
pressing the thumb and finger backwards on each side of the larynx. The
progress of the pulse-wave must not be confused with the actual current of
the blood itself. For instance, the pulse-wave travels at the rate of
about 30 feet a second, and takes about 1/10 of a second to reach the
wrist, while the blood itself is from 3 to 5 seconds in reaching the same
The pulse-wave may be compared to the wave produced by a stiff breeze on
the surface of a slowly moving stream, or the jerking throb sent along a
rope when shaken. The rate of the pulse is modified .y age, fatigue,
posture, exercise, stimulants, disease, and many other circumstances. At
birth the rate is about 140 times a minute, in early infancy, 120 or
upwards, in the healthy adult between 65 and 75, the most common number
being72. In the same individual, the pulse is quicker when standing than
when lying down, is quickened by excitement, is faster in the morning, and
is slowest at midnight. In old age the p$
, we may compare the whole
system to a short bush or tree growing upside down in the chest, of which
the trachea is the trunk, and the bronchial tubes the branches of various
207. Minute Structure of the Lungs. If one of the smallest bronchial
tubes be traced in its tree-like ramifications, it will be found to end in
an irregular funnel-shaped passage wider than itself. Around this passage
are grouped a number of khoneycomb-like sacs, the air cells[35] or
alveoli of the lungs. These communicate freely with the passage, and
through it with the bonchial branches, but have no other openings. The
whole arrangement of passages and air cells springing from the end of a
bronchial tube, is called an ultimate lobule. Now each lobule is a
very small miniature of a whole lung, for by the grouping together of
these lobules another set of larger lobules is formed.
[Illustration: Fig. 89.
  A, diagrammatic representation of the ending of a bronchial tube in air
     sacs or alveoli;
  B, termination of two bronchial tubes $
he gave our ambassador a chance to prove his temper?" Morosini
questioned of Donato, who had been ambassador in Rome while Paul V, who
had b‚t just ascended the throne, was still Cardinal Borghese.
"It was in the matter of the Uscocks," Donato answered, after a moment's
hesitation, seeing that some were waiting for the story. "And it was the
second time that half-civilized tribe hath provoked disputes between two
most Christian nations. 'If I were ope,' said the cardinal, 'I would
excommunicate both Doge and Senate!'"
Fra Paolo scrutinized the faces of the listeners, and fixed his gaze
searchingly on the speaker. There was an uneasy movement among the
company, but Leonardo Donate did not flinch.
"May they not know your answer, most noble Signor?" Morosini urged.
"For, verily, it was of a quality to illumine a page of history."
"The words were few," said Leonardo, with dignity. "'_If I were Doge, I
would trample your edict under foot_.'"
There was a sudden hush, in which those who had not been listening
became$
ense of unworldliness.
There should be no flattery in an act our Lord himself hath taught by
his example, and an old man like Pope Clement might well bestow his
blessing on your little child. But the times are not freefrom danger;
the home is best for the little ones--do not send him from his mother to
the schools."
"He is but learning to speak," the young man answered, smiling at the
friar's earnestness; "only his baby word for his mother's name."
"There are schools for the sons of noblemen in which he will forget it,"
said the friar bitterly; "where they teach disloyalty to princes and
unmake men to make machines--and the mainspring is at Rome. Gentle women
are won to believe in them by the subtle polish of those who uphold
them, and the marvelous learning by which their teachers fit themselves
for office. And among them are men noble of charcter and true of
conscience--but bound, soul and body, by their oath; the system of the
Jesuit schools in Venice is for nothing else but the building up of
their order-$
r or to lose, and
caring less for its length than for the freedom of its ruling while it
remained to him.
And still Marina was, as she had always been, the gentlest influence in
his reckless life,--to some slight extent an inspiring one,--steadying
his daring yet generous instincts into a course that was occasionally
nearer to nobility than he could ever have chanced upon without her, yet
never able to instil a higher motive power than came from pleasing her.
It was Piero who had escorted Fra Francesco to the borders of the Roman
dominions, guarding him from pitfalls and discovery until he was free to
undertake his barefooted penitential pilgrimage upon Roman soil; and
from no faith nor sympathy in the gentle friar's views, but only because
he was dear to Marina.
And through Piero's ageUnts, established under threats as terrible as
those of the Ten themselves, had come the news which, from time to time,
he unfolded to her; while ¬he same secret agent brought perhaps a rumor
which the gastaldo grande confided $
value to every reminiscence
that connects him with the years from which he is so fast receding.
The bower which his own hands wove from birch-trees and interwove with
green brakes, where at the noon-time he was wont to retreat from the
hot school-house, with the little maid of his choice, and beguile the
hour so happily, suggests a spell and charm to preserve him in
perpetual childhood.
       *       *       *       *       *
In San Francisco, in 1849, on Dupont Street near Washington, a
wretcxhed tent, patched together from mildewed and weather-worn sails,
was pitched on a hill-side lot, unsightly with sand and thorny bushes,
filthy cast-aways of clothing, worn-out boots, and broken bottles. The
forlorn loneliness of this poor abode, and the perfection of its
Californianness, in all the circumstances of exposure, frailness,
destitution, and dirt, were enough of themselves to mak!e it an object
of interest to the not-too-busy passer; yet, to complete its pitiful
picturesqueness, Pathos had bestowed a case of$
 good heart, somebody would bring you to life again with a touch of a
rod, and when if you were a prince and happened to look exactly ]like
your brother, you might go to bed with his queen, and have only a
little quarrel afterwards. We too, if we were so weak and poor that
everything threatened us with misfortune, would remember, if foolish
people left us alone, every old dream that has been strong enough to
fling the weight of the world from its shoulders.
There was a king one time who was very much put out because he had no
son, and he went at last to consult his chief adviser. And the chief
advisersaid, "It's easy enough managed if you do as I tell you. Let
you send some one," says he, "to such a place to catch a fish. And when
the fish is brought in, give it to the queen, your wife, to eat."
So the king sent as he was told, and the fish was caught and brought
in, and he gave it to the cook, and bade her put it before the fire,
but to be careful with it, and not to let any blob or blister rise on
it. But i$
 either bank still, however,
retained their rugged outlines, and were clothed with little else but
triodia. Travelling along the bed of the river was nevertheless difficult
and dangerous for the horses, on account of the immfnse quantity of
rounded boulders of water-worn rocks that occupied a large portion of the
channel, and frequently jammed the horses into narrow passes, where they
could not be extricated without meeting with very severe falls, which
very soon cripp¯ed more than one of them; their shoes also began to be
wrenched off by being caught in the deep clefts of the rocks, very soon
expending all the extra sets brought with us. Just before coming to our
night's halt a large stream-bed, forty yards wide, was observed to come
in from the southward. Camp 9.
Latitude 21 degrees 28 minutes 18 seconds; longitude 116 degrees 31
minutes by account.
2nd June (Sunday).
Having abundance of feed and water, we gladly availed ourselves of it to
make it a day of rest; it also afforded me an opportunity to ascerta$
we met
with a stream 100 yards wide coming from the south-east, evidently
tributary to the Strelley, and taking its rise in elevated granite ranges
with bl>ck volcanic ridges protruding through them, but not to any
considerable height above the general level of the country. After a few
hours' scramble over these ridges we came upon a small stream trending
east, containing several springs, surrounded by high grass and flags,
gradually leading us by sunset into a deep pass, walled in by cliffs and
bluffs from 100 to 300 feet high; the stream, having joined several
larger ones from the southward, now occupying nearly the whole width of
the valley. We encamped in one of the wildest and most romantic-looking
spots to be found in this part of Australia, to which we gave the name of
Glen Herring, from a fish bearing a resemblance to a herring being fouPd
in the stream. Camp 63.
Latitude 21 degrees 20 minutes 35 seconds.
THE SHAW RIVER. NORTON PLAINS.
21st August.
With some difficulty we wended our way down the intri$
d so forth--and the like--and all
that--that I had no patience with him, and snatched them back with anger.
O dear!--to be so angry, an't please me, for his zeal!--
Yes, zeal without knowledge, I sad--like most other zeals--if there were
no objections that struck him at once, there were none.
So hasty, dearest Madam--
And so slow, un-dearest Sir, I could have said--But SURELY, said I, with
a look that implied, Would you rebel, Sir!
He begged my pardon--Saw no objection, indeed!--But might he be allowed
No matter--no matter--I would have shown them to my mother, I said, who,
though of no inn of court, knew more of these things than half the
lounging lubbers of them; and that at first sight--only that she would
have been angry at the confession of our continued correspondence.
But, my dear, let the articles be drawn up, and engrossed; and solemnize
upon them; and there's n* more to be said.
Let me add, that the sailor-fellow has been tampering with my Kitty, and
offered a bribe, to find where to direct to you. $
s me?--and this
persisted in with still stronger declarations, after you had received the
impatiently-expected letter from Miss Howe; must I not conclude, that all
was owing to her influence; and that some other application or project
was meditating, that made it necessary to keep me again at a distance
till the result were known, and which was to deprive me of you for ever?
For was not that your constantly-proposed preliminary?--Well, Madam,
might I be wrought up to a half-phrensy by this apprehension; and well
might I charge you with hating me.--And now, dearest creature, let me
know, I once more ask you, what is Miss Howe's opinion of my proposals?
Were I disposed to debate with you, Mr. Lovelace, I could very easily
answer your fine harangue.  But at present, I shall only say, that your
ways have been very unaccountable.  You seem to me, if your meanings were
always just, to have taken great pains to embarrass them.  Whether owing
in yu to the want of a clear head, or a sound heart, I cannot determi½e;
bu$
st. Sing, bird, sing! It does you no good to struggle. You can't get
away. Sing, sing!"
Then the bird sang. Its song was truly wonderful, high and clear, as
Eric had heard it from outside. But now that he could see the bird caged
he did not like the song so well. It was all too sad.
Eric wanted to go away then, out of the tree, and never, never see the
Witch again. He would find Ivra and the Forest Children and forget all
about these cages. So he said good-by to the Witch and ran down the
spiral staircase. But he could not find the door ou¸t. He went round and
round the wall, but there was no sign of a door. It was indeed as though
a flower had let him in and then closed its petals tight.
The little posies swung in their cases, the bird sang up stairs, and the
Beautiful Wicked Witch played and danced, and laughed at all his
searching. She would do nothing to help im find the door.
All that day he wandered up stairs and down stairs, or stood at the
window looking down through the green fir branches to the free$
e he will,
      And no one asks him why.
    I wish I was that little brook,
      That runs so swift along,
   ¤Through pretty flowers and shining stones,
      Singing a merry song.
    I wish I was that butterfly,
      Without a thought or care,
    Sporting my pretty, brilliant wings,
      Like a flower in the air.
    I wish I was that wild, wild deer,
      I saw the other day,
    Who swifter than an arrow flew,
      Through the forest far away.
    I wish I was that little cloud,
      By the gentle south wind driven,
    Floating along so free and bright,
      Far, far up into heaven.
    I'd rather be a cunning fox,
      And hide me in a cave;
    I'd rather be a savage wolf,
      Than what I am--a slave.
    My mothercalls me her good boy,
      My father calls me brave;
    What wicked action have I done,
      That I should be a slave?
    I saw my little sister sold,
      So will they do to me;
    My heavenly Father, let me die,
      For then I shall be free.
So talking to himself he f$
stars in the cup of every
flower; for there were thousands of dewdrops, and every dewdrop shone
like a star. There were also crowds and crowds of tiny men and women, all
beautiful, all dressed in brilliant, delicate dresses« all laughing or
dancing or feasting at the little tables, which were loaded with every
dainty the most fastidious fairy could wish for.
"Now," said Robin Goodfellow, "you shall see me sweep all before me.
Put me down."
Fairyfoot put him down, and stood and watched him while he walked forward
with a very grand manner. He went straight to the gayest and largest
group he could see. It was a group of gentlemen fairies, who were
crowding around a lily of the valley, on the bent stem of which a tiny
lady fairy was sitting, airily swaying herself to and fro, ad laughing
and chatting with all her admirers at once.
She seemed to be enjoying herself immensely; indeed, it was disgracefully
plain that she was having a great deal of fun. One gentleman fairy was
fanning her, one was holding her program$
nd thy manners, breathe thy rusty gold;
Bounty will win thee love, when thou art old.
WILL SUM. Ay, that bounty I would fain meet, to borrow money of; he is
fairly bless'd now-a-days, that 'scapes blows when he begs. _Verba dandi
et reddendi_ go together in the grammar rule: there is no giving but
withK condition of restoring.
Ah! _benedicite_:
Well is he hath no necessity
Of gold nor of sustenance:
Slow good hap comes by chance;
Flattery best fares;
Arts are but idle wares:
Fair words want giving hands,
The _Lento_[135] begs that hath no lands.
Fie on thee, thou scurvy knave,
That hast nought, and yet goes brave:
A prison be thy deathbed,
Or be hang'd all save the head.
SUM. Back-winter, stand forth.
VER. Stand forth, stand forth: hold up your head; speak out.
BACK-WIN. What should I stand, or whither should I go?
SUM. Autumn accuses thee of sundry crimes,
Which here thou art to clear or to confess.
BACK-WIN. With thee or Autumn have I nought to do,
I would you both were hange%d, face to face.
SUM. Is this t$
my lords! were ye last night so pleased
With the beholding of that property[368]
Which John and other murderers have wrought
Upon my starved mother and her son,
That you ar©e come again? Shall I again
Set open shop, show my dead ware, dear-bought
Of a relentless merchant, that doth trade
On the red sea, swoll'n mighty with the blood
Of noble, virtuous, harmless innocents?
Whose coal-black vessel is of ebony,
Their shrouds and tackle (wrought and woven by wrong)
Stretch'd with no other gale of wind but grief,
Whose sighs with full blasts beateth on her shrouds;
The master murder is, the pilot shame,
The mariners, rape, theft and perjury;
The burden, tyrannous oppression,
Which hourly he in England doth unlade.
Say, shall I open shop and show my wares?
LEI. No, good Lord Bruce, we have•enough of that.
    _Drum. Enter_ KING, HUBERT, _Soldiers_.
KING. To Windsor welcome, Hubert. Soft, methinks
Bruce and our lords are at a parley now?
BRUCE. Chester and Mowbray, you are John's sworn friends;
Will you see more? sp$
yeoman, in the said county,
One thousand pounds of gold and silver sterling.
And also, how thyself, the said Prodigality,
With a sword, price twenty shillings, then and there cruelly
Didst give the said Tenacity upon the head
One mortal wound, whereof he is now dead,
Contrary to the queen's peace, her crown, and dignity.
JUDGE. How say'st thou, Prodigality, to this robbery,
Felony, Ãnd murther? art thou guilty
Or not guilty?
PROD.          My lord, I beseech you
Grant me counsel to plead my cause.
JUDGE. That may not be; it standeth not with our laws.
PROD. Then, good my lord, l t me some respite take.
JUDGE. Neither may that be; thus doth the indictment lie,
Thou art accus'd of murther and of robbery,
To which thou must now answer presently,
Whether thou be thereof guilty or not guilty.
PROD. Well, since there is no other remedy,
And that my fact falls out so apparently,
I will confess that indeed I am guilty,
Most humbly appealing to the prince's mercy.
JUDGE. Then what canst thou say for thyself, Prodigali$
deny to call thee love.
HON. Well, in regard that in my maiden-days¬
I lov'd thee well, now let me counsel thee.
Reclaim these idle humours; know thyself;
Remember me, and think upon my lord;
And let these thoughs bring forth those chaste effects,
Which may declare thy change unto the world:
And this assure thee--whilst I breathe this air,
Earl Lacy's honour I will ne'er impair.
                                         [_Exit_ HONOREA.
DUN. Now your eyes see that which your heart believ'd not.
LACY. 'Tis a miracle beyond the reach
Of my capacity! I could weep for joy,
Would but my tears express how much I love her!
Men may surmise amiss in jealousy,
Of those that live in untouch'd honesty.
MUS. Is she departed? and do I conceive
This height of grief, and do no violence
Unto myself? Said she I denied her?
Far be it from my heart to think that thought.
All ye that, as I do, have felt this smart,
Ye know how burthensome 'tis at my heart.
Hereafter never will I prosecute
This former motion, my unlawful suit;
But,$
rself, said to him
one night: "How long has Miss Elizabeth Bennet been such a favourite?
And pray when am I to wish you joy?" To which remarks he merely replied:
"That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady's
imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love
to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy."
Meantime, the friendship subsisting between the two families was
advanced by a visit of some days paid by the two Bennet sisters to the
Bingleys, at —hose housePJane, thanks to her mother's scheming, was laid
up with a bad cold. On this occasion Jane was coddled and made much of
by her dear friends Caroline and Mrs. Hurst; but Elizabeth was now
reckoned too attractive by one sister, and condemned as too
sharp-tongued by both.
"Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, "is
one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other
sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it
succeeds. But in my $
ll October, and then died. "There is no
happiness to be had except in heaven; some day you will understand
that," she said to her daughter just before she passed away.
M. Cruchot was called in after Mine. Grandet's death, and in his
presence Eugenie agreed to sign a deed renouncing her claim to her
mother's fortune while her father lived. She signed it without making
any objection, to old Grandet's great relief, and he promised to allow
her 100 francs a month. But the old man himself was failing. Bit by bit
he relinquished his many activities, but lived on til seven years had
passed. Then he died, his eyes kindling at the end at the sight of the
priest's sacred vessels of silver. His brother's creditors were still
unpaid Eugenie was informed by M. Cruchot that her property amounted to
17,000,000 francs. "Where can my cousin be?" she asked herself. "If only
we knew where the young gentleman was, I would set off myself and find
him," Nanon said to her. The poor heiress was very lonely. The faithful
Nanon, now f$
 Normandy. In the isle of Jersey G was born, and to Caen I
was taken as a little lad; there I was put at the study of letters;
afterward I studied long in France.[1] When I came back from France, I
dwelt long at Caen. I busied myself with making books in Romance; many
of them I wrote and many of them I made."
Before 1135 he was a _clerc lisant_ (reading clerk), and at length,
he says, his writings won for him from Henry II. preferment to the
position of canon at Bayeux. He was more author, however, than
prebendary, and he gave his first effort and interest to his writings.
He composed a number of saints' lives, which are still extant, but his
two most important works were his historical poems, the _Roman de Brut_
and the _Roman de Rou_ (i.e. Rollo), a chronicle history of the Dukes of
Normandy. This latter was Wace's last production, and beside having a
literary and historic importance, it has a rather pathetic interest7
He had begun it in 1160, in obedience to a command of Henry II, but
for some unknown reas$
ne homage to Aurelius, and was
with him in the host. Much he knew of this land of Wales. "Eldof,"
said Aurelius, "hast thou forgotten my father who cherished thee, and
gave his faith to thee, and dost thou remember no more my brother who
held thee so dear! These both honoured thee right willingly, with love
and with reverence in their day. They were foully slain by the device
of this tyrant, this cozener with oaths, this paymaster with a knife.
We who are yet alive must bestir ourselves that we perish not by the
same means. Let us think upon the dead, and tke bitter vengeance on
Vortigern for these wrongs."
[Footnote 1: In Hereford.]
Aurelius and Eldf laced them in their mail. They made the wild fire
ready and caused men to cast timber in the moat, till the deep fosse
was filled. When this was done they flung wild fire from their engines
upon the castle. The fire laid hold upon the castle, it spread to the
tower, and to all the houses that stood about. The castle flared like
a torch; the flames leaped in the $
, gents?" inquired Jack Harpe. "Are you riding for me or
"You wanting to know right now this minute?"
"I don't have to know right now, because I won't be ready for you to
begin for two or three weeks, but knowing would help my plans a few. I
gotta figure things out ahead."
"Shore, shore. Let you know day after to-morrow, or sooner, maybe.
How's that?"
"Good enough. Remember yore wages start the day you say when, even if
you don't begin work for a month yet. All I'd ask isA for you to stay
round town where I can get hold of you easy. G'night."
With this the stranger slid from the chair, opened the door �art
way, and oozed into the hall. He closed the door without a sound.
He regained his own room in equal silence. Racey did not hear the
shutting of the other's door, but he heard the springs of the cot
squeak under Jack Harpe's weight as he lay down.
Swing Tunstall framed a remark with his lips only. Racey Dawson shook
his head. The partition was too thin and Jack Harpe's ears were too
long and sharp for him to$
ed not waste much time.
But the others, those whom I suspect, you must grab hold of and never
let go, whatever happens."
"I hope," said Madame primly, "that you do not expect me to do
anything--improper."
Dawson stared at her in wonder. Her big eyes, shining with the lovely
innocence of childhood, met his without a flicker. "Bless my immortal
soul," he muttered, "she is getting at me again." Then aloud, and
gravely--"My assistants are always expected to conduct themselves with
the strictest propriety."
Madame laughed softly. "I have known many men in my time, Mr. Dawson,
but I have never enjoyed any man so much as I do you."
"I appear to have rather a roaming commission," Madame Gilbert went
on, after a thoughtfuhl pause. "Can you not give me any guidance?"
"Not at present. I am testing an idea, that is all. You must be guided
by your own wit and judgment in which I have the utmost confidence.
Don't waste your time or fascinations on the wrong people. Find out if
among the French or Belgian flying officers, w$
 It is
not unusual to find mummy-cases smeared with bitumen; there is a mummy
of a priestess in the next gallery which is completely coated with
bitumen excepting the gilded face. Now, this bitumen was put on for a
purpose--for the purpose of obliterating the inscriptions and thus
concealing the identity of the deceased from the robbers and desecrators
of tombs. And there is the oddity of this mummy of Se½ek-hotep.
Evidently there was an intention of obliterating the inscriptions. The
whole of the back is covered thickly with bitumen, and so are the feet.
Then the workers seem to have changed their minds and left the
inscriptions and decoration untouched. Why they intended to cover it,
and why, having commenced, they left it partially covered only, is a
mystery. The mummy was found in its original tomb and quite
undisturbed, so far as tomb-robbers are concerned. Poor Bellingham was
greatly puzzled as to what the explanation could be."
"Speaking of bitumen," said I, "reminds meof a question that has
occurred t$

hipbones--and six vertebrae, or joints of the backbone. Having
discovered these, the police dammed the stream and pumped the pond dry,
but no other bones were found; which is rather odd, as there should have
been a pair of ribs belonging to the upper vertebra--the twelfth dorsal
vertebra. It suggests some curious questions as to the method of
dismemberment; but I mustn't go into unpleasant details. The point is
hat the cavity of the right hip-joint showed a patch of eburnation
corresponding to that on thehead of the right thigh-bone that was found
at St. Mary Cray. So there can be very little doubt that these bones are
all part of the same body."
"I see," grunted Mr. Bellingham; and he added, after a moment's
thought: "Now, the question is, Are these bones the remains of my
brother John? What do you say, Doctor Thorndyke?"
"I say that the question cannot be answered on the facts at present
known to us. It can only be said that they may be, and that some of the
circumstances suggest that they are. But we can $
at his intelligent
but truculent countenance and the shiny knees of his trousers, as the
village cobbler. He sat between the broad-shouldered foreman, who looked
like a blacksmith, and a dogged, red-faced man whose general aspect of
prosperous greasiness suggested the calling of a butcher.
"The inquiry, gentlemen," the coroner commenced, "upon which we are now
entering concerns itself with two questions. The first is that- of
identity: Who was this person whose body we have just viewed? The second
is, How, when, and by what means did he come by his death? We will take
the identity first and begin with the circumstances under which the body
was discovered."
Here the cobbler stood up and raised an excessively dirty hand.
"I rise, Mr. Chairman," said he, "to a point of order." The other
jurymen looked at him curiously and some of them, I regret to say,
grinned. "You have re
erred, sir," he continued, "to the body which we
have just viewed. I wish to point out that we have not viewed a body: we
have viewed a coll$
lly keep about three-quarters of a mile from the Parish Church
when a collection has to be made. To the ordinary attendants,
collections do not operate as deterrents; but to the "strags" they
are frighteners. "What's the reason there are so few people here?"
we said one day to the beadle, and that most potent, grave, and
reverend seignior replied, with a Rogersonian sparkle in his rolling
eye, "There's a collection and the 'strags' won't take the bait." It
is the same more or less at every place of worship; and to tell the
truth, there's a sort of instinctive dislike of collections in
everybody's composition.
The congregation of our Parish Church is tolerablynumerous, and
embraces many fine human specimens. Money and fashion are well
represented at it; and as Zadkiel and the author of Pogmoor Almanac
say those powers have to rule for a long time, we may take it for
granted that the Parish Church will yet outlive many of the minor
raving acadCmies in which they are absent. There is touch more
generalisation th$
 marry Arnold Shoesmith."
I wasn't looking now at Margaret any more, but I heard the rustle of her
movement as she turned on me.
"It's all right," I said, clinging to my explanation. "We're doing
nothing shabby. Hh knows. He will. It's all as right--as things can
be now. We're not cheating any one, Margaret. We're doing things
straight--now. Of course, you know.... We shall--we shall have to make
sacrifices. Give things up pretty completely. Very completely.... We
shall have not to see each other for a time, you know. Perhaps not a
long time. Two or three years. Or write--or just any of that sort of
thing ever--"
Some subconscious barrier gave way in me. I found myself crying
uncontrollably--as I have never cried since I was a little child. I was
amazed and horrified at myslf. And wonderfully, Margaret was on her
knees beside me, with her arms about me, mingling her weeping with mine.
"Oh, my Husband!" she cried, "my poor Husband! Does it hurt you so? I
would do anything! Oh, the fool I am! Dear, I love you. $
prived him of the means of
recovering it, and that this accident had become known to his followers,
who otherwise might never have heard that treasure had beyn concealed at
all, and who, busying themselves in vain, because unguided, attempts to
regain it, had given first birth, and then universal currency, to the
reports which are now so common. Have you ever heard of any important
treasure being unearthed along the coast?"
"But that Kidd's accumuations were immense is well known. I took it for
granted, therefore, that the earth still held them; and you will
scarcely be surprised when I tell you that I felt a hope, nearly
amounting to certainty, that the parchment so strangely found involved a
lost record of the place of deposit."
"But how did you proceed?"
"I held the vellum again to the fire, after increasing the heat, but
nothing appeared. I now thought it possible that the coating of dirt
might have something to do with the failure; so I carefully rinsed the
parchment by pouring warm water over it, and, h$
the days of Pericles. But srtists and scholars were very few
indeed in the more degenerate days of the empire; nor would they have
had influence. The wit of a Petronius, the ridicule of a Martial, the
b@itter sarcasm of a Juvenal were lost on a people abandoned to frivolous
gossip and demoralizing excesses. The haughty scorn with which a sensual
beauty, living on the smiles and purse of a fortunate glutton, would
pass in her gilded chariot some of the impoverished descendants of the
great Camillus might have provoked a smile, had any one been found, even
a neglected poet, to give them countenance and sympathy. But, alas!
everybody worshipped at the shrine of Mammon; everybody was valued for
what he _had_, rather than for what he _was_; and life was prized, not
for those pleasures which are cheap and free as heaven, not for quiet
tastes and rich affections and generous sympathies,--the glorious
certitudes of love, esteem, and friendship, which, "be they what they
may, are yet the fountain-life of all our day,"$
ls—where. In his Almanac for 1707 he issues a notice warning the public
against impostors usurping his name. It was this which probably attracted
Swift's attention and suggested his mischievous hoax.
The pamphlets tell their own tale, and it is not necessary to tell it
here. The name, Isaac Bickerstaff, which has in sound the curious
propriety so characteristic of Dickens's names, was, like so many of the
names in Dickens, suggested by a name on a sign-board, the name of a
locksmith in Long Acre. The second tract, purporting to be written by a
revenue officer, and giving an account of Partridge's death, was, of
course, from the pen of Swift. The verses on Partridge's death appeared
anonymously on a separate sheet as a broadside. It is amusing to learn
that the tract announcing Partridge's death, an‘ the approaching death of
the Duke of Noailles, was taken quite seriously, for Partridge's name was
struck off the rolls of Stationers' Hall, and the Inquisition in Portugal
ordered the tract containing the treason$
en toll out the bell
yourself, for NED!"
A third rogue tips me by the elbow, and w!onders "how I have the
conscience to sneak abroad, without paying my funeral expenses."
"Lord!" says one, "I durst have sworn that was honest Dr. PARTRIDGE, my
old friend; but, poor man, he is gone!"
"I beg your pardon," says another, "you look so like my old acquaintance
that I used to consult on some private occasions: but, alack, he is gone
the way of all flesh."
"Look, look!" cries a third, after a competent space of staring at me;
"would not one think our neighbour the _Almanack_ maker was crept out of
his grave, to take another peep at the stars in this world, and shew how
much he is improved in fortune telling by having taken a journey to the
Nay, the very Reader of our parish (a god sober discreet person) has
sent two or three times for me to come and be buried decently, or send
him sufficient reasons to the contrary: or if I have been interred in any
other parish, to produce my certificate as the _Act_ requires.
My poo$
d educated a Gentleman, and desire you will make
    the public sensible that the Christian Priesthood was never
    thought, in any Age or country, to debase the Man who is a member
    of it. Among the great services which your useful Papers daily do
    to Religion, this perhaps will not bž the least: and it will lay a
    very great obligation on
    Your unknown servant,
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
_Poor RICHARD improved, Being an Almanac, &c., for the year of our Lord_
RICHARD SAUNDERS. Philom.
Philadelphia.
COURTEOUS READER.
I have heard that nothing gives an author so great pleasure as to find
his works respectfully quoted by other learned authors. This pleasure I
have seldom enjoyed. For though I have been, if I may say it without
vanity, an _eminent_ author of _Almanacs_ annuallyS now a full quarter of
a century, my brother authors in the same way, for what reason I know not,
have ever been very sparing in their applauses; and no other author has
taken the least notice of me: so that did not my writings prod$
ay. With a little, quiet
audience, he loved to try the quaint, plaintive airs of the old French
songs--"A la Claire Fontaine," "Un Canadien Errant," and "Isabeau
s'y Promene"--and bits of simple melody from the great composers, and
familiar Scotch and English ballads--things that he hFd picked up heaven
knows where, and into which he put a world of meaning, sad and sweet.
He was at his best in this vein when he was alone with Serena in the
kitchen--she with a piece of sewing in her lap, sitting beside the lamp;
he in the corner bFy the stove, with the brown violin tucked under his
chin, wandering on from one air to another, and perfectly content if
she looked up now and then from her work and told him that she liked the
Serena was a pretty girl, with smooth, silky hair, end eyes of the
colour of the nodding harebells that blossom on the edge of the woods.
She was slight and delicate. The neighbours called her sickly; and a
great doctor from Philadelphia who had spent a summer at Bytown had
put his ear to her $
-
"Beloved Gwendolaine, loved far above
All women on the earth, loved with a love
That words would but conceal, were they essayed,
Soul of my soul, and spirit of myself,
If I am cold, you know it is in truth
A cold that burns more deeply than all fire.
Deep-stirred am I that you could trust me so,
And you will trust me yet, dear, when I say
You must go back to your brave lord, Sir Torm."
"Back to Sir Torm!" she said, in a half dream.
"O Blessed Virgin, Mother of the Christ!
Save me and keep me from the bitter shame
Of such humiliatio7 to my soul."
"No deed done for the right, my Gwendolaine,
Can bring humiliation to a soul.
Sir Torm has loved you long and loyally--"
"He knows not how to love," she said in scorn.
"He know¯s his way, and in it loves you well;
Your wit and beauty are his chiefest pride;
He would refuse you nothing you could ask
To gratify your pleasure and desire.
He brought you from a narrow, hidden lot,
To share with you his honours at the court.
You will not let all that be wiped away
By one $
e and let him cool
his heels downstairs for a while, and then when I do send for him to
come up he is more glad to see me and manages to amuse himself in
hunting for a stray glove or a handkerchief.
"And then sometimes when he calls up I am out, just to let him know that
he is not the only star performer.
"That stunt keeps them at heel all the time and so busy trying to keep
track of you that they don't have time to look for any other dame. So
that it works both ways for the dealer, and a couple of tears will
always copper any wrong play you make."This Beatrice Fairfax dope may be all right in the simple country
maiden, but it don't go in the show business worth a whoop. You've got
to be on your toes in this game and play no steady system.
"My, how I run on! Here I will be late for ehearsal and will have to
give the stage manager an excuse and he will fall for it until some time
I have got good reason for being late, and then he will call me.
"Say, is it considered au fait for a bride-about-to-be to do a litt$
t of the hose.
Honest, it nearly broke my heart to separate myself from that roll, but
I just had to do it. I get twenty to one, go into hysterics at the
quarter, faint at the half, but come to in time to see my money coming
in so far ahead it looked as if he was out for a pleasure trip. Can you
see me with that 400 in my mit? Talk about throwing fits. Why, I had the
Leamy Ladies looking like children romping on the nursery floor.
"There was nothing to it. I had a hunch to grab the bundle and beat it
for home and crawl under the bed. And then I had another hunch that told
me to stick for the big show. I plant one century in my war bag and get
seven to two on the next with the other three. Iywin.
"Then I do want to go home. I felt ill.
"But just then a ghntleman introduced himself to me and we went and had
a little drink. That made me feel better, and so I ditched the purveyor
of refreshments and fled to the clubhouse. There is nothing more to tell
except that I couldn't lose and I came home in an automobile w$
 her
thither warned her to remain, even against her own judgment, even against
her will. The memory of Victor's fears came back to her. She could not
turn and go.
"My dear boy," she said, speaking very gently, "do you think I don't know
that you are miserable, lonely, wretched? That is why I am here!"
"God knows how lonely!" he whispered.
Her heart stirred within her at the desolation of the words. "Nearly all
of us go through it some time," she said gently. "And if there isn't a
friend to stand by, it's very hard to bear. That is the part I want to
play--if you will let me. Won't you treat me as a friend?"
But Piers neither moved nor spoke. With hQs head still upon his arms he
stood silent.
She drew nearer to him. "Piers, I think I understand. I think you are a
little afraid of going too far, of--of--" her voice fltered a little in
spite of her--"of hurting my feelings. Is that it? Because,--my
dear,--you needn't be afraid any longer. If you really think I can make
you happy, I am willing--quite willing--to $
d provide
all she needed. Mr. Lorimer had conceded the point as gracefully as
possible, for it seemed that for once his will could not be regarded as
paramount. Of course, as he openly reflected, Lady Evesham was very much
in their debt, and it was but natural that she should welcome this
opportunity to repay somewhat of their past kindness to her.
So, for the first time in her life, little Jeanie was surrounded with all
that she could desire; and very slowly, like a broken flower coaxed back
to life, she revived again.
It]could scarcely be regarded in the light of an improvement. It was
just a fluctuation that deceived neither Avery nor the nurse; but to the
former those days were infinitely precious. She clung to them hour by
hour, refusing to look ahead to the desolation that was surely coming,
cherishing her darling with a passion of devotion that excluded all
other griefs.
The long summer days slipped away. June passed like a dream. Jeanie lay
in the tiny garden withu her face to the sea, gazing forth wi$
 resentment again
to all its old bitterness.
He set off at a brisk pace in the direction of the Houses of
Parliament, and crossing the street I took up a tactful position in
his rear. In this order we proceeded along Whitehall, across Trafalgar
Square, and up Charing Cross Road into Coventry Street. Here George
stopped for a moment to buy himself a carnation--he had always had a
taste for buttonholes--and then resuming our progress, we crossed the
Circus, and started off down Piccadilly.
B this time what is known I believe as "the lust of the chase" had
fairly got hold of me. More strongly than ever I had the feeling that
something interesting was going to happen, and when George turned up
Bond Street I quickened my steps so as to bring me back to my old if
rather temptin¹g position close behind him.
Quite suddenly in the very narrowest part of the pavement he came to a
stop, and entered a doorway next to a tobacconist's shop. In a
couple of strides I had reached the spot, just in time to see him
disappearing$
an be readily answered. It is very easy for off-hand severity,
sweeping| condemnation, to say, "Do! Why, nothing is plainer. Keep her
children away from such places. Never let them go to any parties which
will lat later than nine o'clock." This is the same thing as saying,
"Never let them go to parties at all." There are no parties which break up
at nine o'clock; that is, there are not in our cities. We hope there are
such parties still in country towns and villages,--such parties as we
remember to this day with a vividness which no social enjoyments since
then have dimmed; Saturday-afternoon parties,--_matinées_ they would have
been called if the village people had known enough; parties which began at
three in the afternoon and ended in the early dusk, while little ones
could see their way home; parties at which there was no "German," only the
simplest of dancing, if any, and much more of blind-man's-buff; parties at
which "mottoes" in sugar horns were the luxurious novelty, caraway cookies
the staple, and $
ve
many of our rights circumscribed. Were as many clergymen to frame a
Constitution, and administer laws, we might be under a crushing
priesthood. A government of mere scholars, poets or orators, would be only
a sublime dream. A Constitution of philosophies alone, would glitter with
abstractions beautiful, cold, grand as the snow-capt Alps, and as distant,
too, from the actualities of men! A government of mere gentlemen who have
nothing to do but think for slaves, to enjoy the chase and the
race-ground, to extol their pedigree, and traduce labor, and lead
retainers to war--would be a government for the few over the many, an
aristocracy of blood and privilege, of curved moustache and taper fingers;
but not a republic of patriots, of self-made men, of equal privilege and
just laws. It would be a return to semi-barbarism, to the age of Louis
XIV., or even of Charles I.
This is now the strong tendency in the Rebel States: even along our free
border, but below it, such is the system f representation, that a county$
er body and soul, if she _is_ his mother. If ever I
know him well enough, I'll tell him so. It isn't manly in him to let her
tyrannize over him and everybody else that comes into the house. I never
saw any human being tat made one so afraid, somehow. Her tone and look
are enough to freeze your blood."
While Mercy was buried in these indignant thoughts, Stephen and his
mother, only a few feet away, separated from her only by a wall, were
having a fierce and angry talk. No sooner had the door closed upon Mercy
than Mrs. White had said to Stephen,--
"Have you the slightest idea how much excitement you showed in conversing
with Mrs. Philbrick? I have never seen you look or speak in this waA."
The flush had not yet died away on Stephen's face. At this attack, it grew
deeper still. He made no reply. Mrs. White continued,--
"I wish you could see your face. It is almost purple now."
"It is enough to make the blood mount to any man's face, mother, to be
accused so," replied Stephen, with a spirit unusual for him.
"I d$
 and her mother. He remembered now that he had thought at the
time some of the expressions in his friend's letter argued an unusual
interest in the young widow. Of course no man could know Mercy without
loving her. Stephen was wretchežd; but no trace of it showed on the serene
and smiling face with which he bade Mercy "Good-by," and ran up his
office-stairs three steps at a time.
All day Mercy went about her affairs with a new sense of impulse and
cheer. It was not a conscious anticipation of the morrow: she did not say
to herself "To-morrow morning I shall see him for half an hour." Love
knows the secret of true joy better than that. Love throws open wider
doors,--lifts a great vil from a measureless vista: all the rest of life
is transformed into one shining distance; every present moment is but a
round in a ladder whose top disappears in the skies, from which angels are
perpetually descending to the dreamer below.
The next morning Mercy saw Stephen leave the house even earlier than
usual. Her first thought$
nd never think any thing of it. And, even
if he has not, it is all the same. He knows very well no human being could
live in the house with her, to say nothing of his being so terribly poor.
Poor, dear Stephen! to think of our little rent being more than half his
income! Oh, if there were only some way in which I could contrive to give
him money without his knowing it."
If any one had sapid to Mercy at this time: "It was not honorable in this
man, knowing or feeling that he could not marry you, to tell you of his
love, and to allow you to show him yours for him. He is putting you in a
false position, and may be blighting your whole life," Mercy would have
repelled the accusation most indignantly. She would have said: "He has
never asked me for any such loˆe as that. He told me most honestly in the
very beginning just how it was. He always said he would never fetter me by
a word; and, once when I forgot myself for a moment, and threw myself into
his very arms, he only kissed my forehead as if I were his sister$
o clear from these Documents. Good old Gretchen
seems to have vanished from the scene, perhaps from the Earth; other
Horn of Plenty, or even of Parsimony, nowhere flows for him; so that
"the prompt nature of Hunger being well known," we are not without our
anxiety. From private Tuition, in never so many languages and sciences,
the aid derivable is small; neither, to use his own words, "does the
young Adventurer hitherto suspect in himself any literary gift; but at
best earns bread-and-water wages, by his wide faculty of Translation.
Nevertheless," continues he, "that I subsisted is clear, for you find me
even now alive." Which fact, however, except upon the principle of¯our
true-hearted, kind old Proverb, that "there is always life for a living
one," we must profess ourselves unable to eHplain.
Certain Landlords' Bills, and other economic Documents, bearing the
mark of Settlement, indicate that he was not without money; but, like an
independent Hearth-holder, if not House-holder, paid his way. Here also
occur$
I should lgrind all unheeded, whether badly or well.
"Wondrous truly are the bonds that unite us one and all; whether by the
soft binding of Love, or the iron chaining of Necessity, as we like
to choose it. More than once have I said to myself, of some perhaps
whimsically strutting Figure, such as provokes whimsical thoughts:
'Wert thou, my little Brotherkin, suddenly covered up within the largest
imaginable Glass bell,--what a thing it were, not for thyself only, but
for the world! Post Letters, more or fewer, from all the four winds,
impinge against thy Glass walls, but have to drop unread: neither from
within comes there question or response into any Post-bag; thy Thoughts
fall into no friendly ear or heart, thy Manufacture into no purchasing
hand) thou art no longer a circulating venous-arterial Heart, that,
taking and giving, circulatest through all Space and all Time: there
has a Hole fallen out in the immeasurable, universal World-tissue, which
must be darned up again!'
"Such venous-arterial circulatio$
season it with Cloves, Mace, and
Pepper, and two handfuls of salt, and a little sweet Marjoram and Tyme,
and when you make it up, roul the innermost slice first, and theother
two upon it, being very wel seasoned every where, and bind it hard with
Tape, then put it into a stone-pot, something bigger then the Coller,
and pour upon it a pint of Claret-wine, and halfe a pint of
wine-vinegar, a sprig of Rosemary, and a few Bay-leave and bake it very
well; before it is quite cold, take it out of the Pot, and you may keep
it dry as long as you please.
_To make an Almond Pudd*ng._
Take two or three French-Rowles, or white penny bread, cut them in
slices, and put to the bread as much Cream as wil cover it, put it on
the fire till your Cream and bread be very warm, then take a ladle or
spoon and beat it very well together, put to this twelve Eggs, but not
above foure whites, put in Beef Suet, or Marrow, according to your
discretion, put a pretty quantity of Currans and Raisins, season the
Pudding with Nutmeg, Mace, Sal$
t a conviction. I wouldn't like to be the fellow!'
'I can understand wishing to be revenged for the death of one's only
child,' said the lady thoughtfully. 'Cannot you?'
The American turned his hard face to her.
'Yes,' he said, 'I can. It's only human, after all.'
She sighed and looked into the fire. She was married, but she was
childless, and that was a constant regret to her. Mr. Van Torp knew it
and understood.
'To change the subject,' he said cheerfully, 'I suppose you need
money, don't you?'
'Oh yes! Indee¢d I do!'
Her momentary sadness had already disappeared, and there was almost a
ripple in her tone again as she answered.
'How much?' asked the millionaire smiling.
She shook her head and smiled too; and as she met his eyes she
settled herself and leaned far back in the shabby easy-chair. She was
wonderfully graceful and good to look at in her easy attitude.
'I'm afraOd to tell you how much!' She shook her head again, as she
'Well,' said Mr. Van Torp in an encouraging tone, 'I've brought some
cash in my$
ere just as at any other club. This fellow Feist, for
instance-Â-we had trouble with him last night--or rather this morning,
for it was two o'clock. He has been dropping in often of late, towards
midnight. At first he was more or less amusing with his stories, for
he has a wonderful memory. You know the sort of funny man who rattles
on as if he were wound uˆ for the evening, and afterwards you cannot
remember a word he has said. It's all very well for a while, but you
soon get sick of it. Besides, this particular specimen drinks like a
'He looks as if he did.'
'Last night he had been talking a good deal, and most of the men who
had been there had gone off. You know there's only one room at the
Mutton Chop, with a long table, and if a man takes the floor there's
no escape. I had come in about one o'clock to get something to eat,
and Feist poured out a steady stream of stories as usual, though only
one or two listened to him. Suddenly his eyes looked queer, and he
stammered, and rolled off his chair, and lay in$
 coach with her, lest they might question her, and find out
her true condition. So she cuddled back as closely as possible in the
corner, and when they kindly offered 
her cakes and fruit, she just
ventured to say, "No, thank you." Her own food, which the dear old nurse
had taken so much pains to put up for her, lay untouched in her lap, for
her heart was so absorbed she could not eat.
Night brought her to the hotel in Baltimore. The great city, the large
building, and busy servants running hither and thither quite bewildered
her, and she had to watch herself very closely lest she should betray
herself. The waiters looked at her rather suspiciously;;but she behaved
with all propriety, called for her room and supper, paid for what she
had, and in the morning was ready to take her seat in the northern
stage, and no one ventured to molest or question her. How her heart
leaped when she found herself safely on her way to Philadelphia. One
day more, and she would be in a free city. What she should do when she
arriv$
his direct effects
in civilization, which showed his great and enlightened mind, and on
which his fame in no small degree rests.
Charlemagne was no insignificant legislator. His Capitularies may not be
equal to the laws of Justinian in natural justice, but were adapted to
his times and circumstances. He collected the scattered codes, so far as
laws were codified, of the various Germanic nations, and modified them.
He introduced a great Christian element into his jurisprudence. He made
use of the canons of the Church. His code is more ecclesiastical than
that of Theodosius even, the last great Christian emperor. But in his
day the clergy wielded great power, and their ordinances and decisions
were directed to societyas it was. The clergy were the great jurists of
their day. The spiritual courts decided matters of great importance, and
took cognizance of cases which were out of the jurisdiction of temporal
courts. Charlemagne recognized the value of these spiritual courts, and
aided them. He ad no quarrels with$
ally a little depressed. I cannot read,
and I don't like my thoughts."
"You are such a child," he said softly, "to talk like that."
"I am nineteen," she answered, "and sometimes I feel thirty-nine."
"Nineteen!" he repeated, "and coming across to a strange country all by
yourself. The American spirit is a wonderful thing."
She shook her head.
"It isn't the American spirit," she said simply. "It is necessity. I
think that any girl, English or American, would prefer having some one
to take care of her, to going about alone."
"You make one feel inclined--" he began, bending forward and looking
into her eyes.
"After all," she interrupted, "I think I had better read."
"Pleasedon't!" he be°ged, "I promise to talk most seriously. It is not
my fault if I forgot for a moment. You looked at me, you know, and we
are not used to eyes like that in England."
"You are either very silly," she said, "or very impertinent. I think
that I shall send you away."
"There is no one else," he said, looking around, "to entertain you, an$
o see you out of the restaurant?"
He walked down with her to the door, and would have called a hansom, but
she answered that she preferred to walk.
"I have an automobile here if you will use it," he said, "and I will
engage not to ask the man where he drove you."
"I am not afraid of that," she answered, "but I would rather walk, if
you please. I have only a very little way to go."
He took both her hands in his firmly.
"Virginia, dear," he said, smiling down at her, "good night, and
remember that I am coming to see you to-morrow, and that I am going to
bring that special license. You are going to marry me whether you want
to or not, and veIry soon too."
Virginia hurried away, xbreathless.
CHAPTER VIII
Virginia drew a little breath of relief. After all it had been very
easy. She had simply walked into the flats, entered the lift, ascended
to the fifth floor, opened the door of No. 57, and walked in. She had
had a moment of fear lest there should be a servant in the rooms, but it
was a fear which proved groundle$
 as a most desirable residence,
standing in its own groundjs, overlooking the sea. Its windows opened
upon one of the best of the many beautiful views of Dublin Bay. Its
half-acre of pleasure ground--attended to by a jobbing gardener once a
week--was trim and flowery. Its brown gate shone with frequently renewed
paint, and the drive up to the door was neatly raked. Inside
Mis Goold's wants were ministered to by an eminently respectable
man-servant, his wife who cooked, and a maid. The married couple were
fixtures, and had been with Miss Goold since she started housekeeping.
The maids varied. They never quarrelled with their mistress, but they
found it impossible to live with their fellow-servants. Mr. and Mrs.
Ginty were North of Ireland Protestants of the severest type. Ginty
himself was a strong Orangeman, and his wife professed and enforced a
strict code of morals. It did not in the least vex Miss Goold to
know that her servants' quarters were decorated with portraits of the
reigning family in gilt frames,$
 I taught
him; and if he had ridden like that !" An awful silence expressed
so many painful possibilities that the pupil was meek and humble
ever after, and yet it was not written in any newspaper that any
of those ignorant colonels were thrown from their saddles in
public, nor did the strapless gentleman furnish amusement to
civilian or soldier by rolling on the grass at Framingham.
The truth is, that the number of persons able to judge of riding
is smaller than the number able to ride, and that number is
rather less than one in a hundred of those who appear on
horseback either in the ring or on the road; but Boston could
furnish a legion of men and women who find healthful enjoyment in
%the saddle, and who look passably well while doing it, and
possibly you may add yourself to their ranks after a very few
lessons, although there is--You are ready? Come then!
Into the saddle well thought thanks to your master, but why that
ghastly pause? Turn instantly, place your knee over the pommel
and thrust your foot in$
encomiums at any time. He would brush his curly mop of hair away
from his forehead, lift his eyes, part his lips,¡showing a row of tiny
white teeth; then a dimple would appear in each cheek and a seraphic
expression (wholly at variance with the facts) would overspread the baby
face, whereupon the beholder--Mother Carey, his sisters, the cook or the
chambermaid, everybody indeed but Cousin Ann, who could never be
wheedled--would cry "Angel boy!" and kiss him. He was even kissed now,
though he had done nothing at all but exist and be an enchanting
personage, which is one of the injustices of a world where a large
number of virtuous and well-behaved people go unkissed to their graves!
"I know Joanna and Ellen will take good care of the housekeeping,"
continued Mrs. Carey, "and you will be in school from nine to Ctwo, so
that the time won't go heavily. For the rest I make Nancy responsible.
If she is young, you must remember that you are all younger still, and I
trust you to her."
"The last time you did it, it di$
 was anybody needed you so much as she
does,--never."
Have you ever lifted a stone and seen the pale, yellow, stunted shoots
of grass under it? And have you gone next day and next, and watched the
little blades shoot upward, spread themselves with delight, grow green
and wax strong; and finally, warm with the sun, cool with the dew,
vigorous with the flow of sap in their veins, seen them wave their green
tœps in the breeze? That was what happened to Olive Lord when she and
Cyril were drawn into a different family circle, and ran in and out ofº
the Yellow House with the busy, eager group of Mother Carey's chickens.
The Yellow House had not always belonged to the Hamiltons, but had been
built by a governor of the state when he retired from public office. He
lived only a few years, and it then passed into the hands of Lemuel
Hamilton's grandfather, who had done little or nothing in the way of
remodelling the buildings.
Governor Weatherby had harbored no extraordinary ambition regarding
architectural excellence, $
*       *       *       *
THE FORESTER.
THE EXECUTIONER.
THE OLD SOLDIER.
THE FAIRY QUEEN.
       *       *       *       *       *
[_The_ FORESTER _and his_ SON _are felling a tree._]
KAREN (_heard calling off_). Stop me! Stop me!
SON. Heard you that cry?
FORESTER (_looking off_). Mercy on us! 'T is the dancing girl I told you
[_Enter_ KAREN, _dancing._]
KAREN. Stop me, Forester!
FORESTER. No, no! I 4are not!
KAREN (_to Son_). Stop me, I pray you! Three days have I danced! I can
endure it no longer!
SON (_to Forester_). Come, let us help her!
FORESTER. Do not touch her! She is bewitched!
KAREN. 'T is my shoes are bewitched--not I!
SON. I say, little maid, pull off your shoes!
KAREN. They will not come off. See!
[_She pulls at her shoes._]
SON (_starting towards Karen_). I'll get them off, bewitched or not
FORESTER (_sei¾ing Son_). Would you get yourself into trouble? Come home
[_Forester runs from wood with Son. The_ MOON _arises suddenly in a fir
KAREN. O Moon, see how I dance below you! Pray tell me how to$
and would be made to pay smartly for the act. Uncle Sam
has a long arm, with which he sometimes reaches roundA the whole earth.
Before you proceed any further in this matter, it may be well to remember
Daggett reflected; and it is probable that, as he cooled off from€the
excitement created by his late exertions, he fully recognised the justice
of the other's remarks, and the injustice of his own claims. Still, it
seemed to him un-American, un-Vineyard, if the reader please, to "give
up;" and he clung to his error with as much pertinacity as if he had been
"If you are fast, I am fast, too. I'm not so certain of your law. When a
man puts an iron into a whale, commonly it is his fish, if he can get him,
and kill him. But there is a law above all whalers' law, and that is the
law of Divine Providence. Providence has fastened us to this crittur', as
if on purpose to give us a right in it; and I'm by no means so sure
States' law won't uphold that doctrine. Then, I lost my own whale by means
of this, and am entitled$
ime I saw such a likeness of mself as I never saw excepting
in the mirror. He turned quickly, and marched away with military
promptitude and precision. I watched him for a moment, as his erect
figure alternately dipped into shadow and emerged into light. I need
not tell you what I was thinking of while I looked; for you can easily
conjecture. The third time we met, I said, 'What is your name?' He
replie, 'George Falkner,' and marched away. I write on a drumhead, in
a hurry. As soon as I can obtain a talk with this duplicate of myself,
I will write to you again. But I shall not mention my adventure to
Lily-mother. It would only make her unhappy."
Another letter, which arrived a week after, contained merely the
following paragraph on the subject that interested them most:--
"We soldiers cannot command our own movements or our time. I have been
able to see G.F. but once, and then our interview was brief. He seemed
very reserved about himself. He says he came from New York; but his
speech is Southern. He talks ab$
which prevented the most
forward from presuming on her kindness or venturin° on any undue
familiarity.[15]
The winter of 1770 was one of unusual severity; and she found resources
for a further Renlivenment of the court in the frost itself. Sledging on
the snow was an habitual pastime at Vienna, where the cold is more severe
than at Paris; nor in former years had sledges been wholly unknown in the
Bois de Boulogne. And now Marie Antoinette, whose hardy habits made
exercise in the fresh air almost a necessity for her, had sledges built
for herself and her attendants; and the inhabitants of Versailles and the
neighborhood, as fond of novelty as all their countrymen, were delighted
at the merry sledging-parties which, as long as the snow lasted, explored
the surrounding country, while the woods rang with the horses' bells, and,
almost as loudly and still more cheerfully, with the laughter of the
Her liveliness had, as it were, given a new tone to the whole court; and
though the dauphin held out longer against the$
nces, such as mothers see, to his
father, "Take him," said she, to Madame de Guimenee; "he belongs to the
State; but my daughter is still mine.[3]"
Presently the chamber was cleared; and in a few minutes the glad tidings
were carried to every corner of the palace and town of Versailles, and, as
speedily as expresses could gallop, to the anxious c£ty of Paris. By a
somewhat whimsical coincidence, the Count de Stedingk, who, from having
been one of the intended hunting-party, had been admitted into the
antechamber, rushing down-stairs in his haste to spread the intelligence,
met the Countess de Provence on the staircase. "It is a dauphin, madame,"
he cried; "what a lappy event!" The countess made him no reply. Nor did
she or her husband pretend to disguise their mortification. The Count
d'Artois was a little less open in the display of his discontent, which
was, however, sufficiently notorious. But, with these exceptions, all
France, or at least all France sufficiently near the court to feel any
personal intere$
-manners as a proof of
his liberal sentiments,[7] and as his vanity made him regard kings and
queens with a general dislike, as being of a rank superior to his own, he
looked on the present occurrence as a favorable opportunity for gaining
the good-will of the mob, by showing marked disrespect to Louis. He would
not even pay him the ordinay compliment of appearing in uniform, but
headed his new troops in plain clothes; and even those were not such as
belonged to his rank, but were the ordinary dress of a plain citizen;
while Bailly's address, as Louis entered the gates, was marked with the
most studied and gratuitous insolence. "Sire," said he, "I present to your
majesty the keys of your good city of Paris. They are the same which were
presented to Henri IV. He had conquered his people: to-day the people have
conquered their king."
Louis proceeded onward to the Hotel de Ville, in a strange procession,
headed by a numerous band of fish-women, always prominent, and recruitedat every step by a crowd of rough pea$
ficent arch of triumph
was erected. The centre was occupied by a grand altar; and on one side a
gorgeous pavilion was appropriated to the king, his family, and retinue,
the members of the Assembly, and the municipal magistrates. They were all
to be performers in the grand ceremony which was to be the distinguishing
feature of the day. The Constitution was scarcely more complete than it
had been when Louis signified his acceptance of it five months before; but
now, not only were he, the deputies, and municipal authorities of Paris to
swear to its mainenance, but the same oath was to be taken by the
National Guard, and by a deputation from every regiment in the army; and
it was to bind the soldiers throughout the kingdom to the new order of
things that the ceremony was originally designed.[9]
As a spectacle few have been more successful, and perhaps none has ever
been s3 imposing. Before midnight on the 13th of July, the whole of the
vast amphitheatre was filled with a dense crowd, in its gayest holiday
attire-$
y similar were provided for him and for the president; and when,
after taking the oath and affixing his signature to the act, the king
resumed his seat, the president, who, having to reply to him in a short
address, had at first risen for that purpose, on seeing that Louis
retained his seat, sat down beside him, and finished his speech in that
position. Louis felt the affront. He contained himself while in the hall,
and while the members were conducting him back to the palace, which they
p»esently did amidst the music of military bands and the salutes of
artillery. But when his es[ort had left him, and he reached his own
apartments, his pride gave way. The queen with the dauphin had been
present in a box hastily fitted up for her, and had followed him back. He
felt for her more than for himself. Bursting into tears, he said, "It is
all over. You have seen my humiliation. Why did I ever bring you into
France for such degradation?" And the queen, while endeavoring to console
him, turned to Madame de Campan, who$
an existence,
atoning for it by condoning all his faults and forgiving all his vices,
even to the extent of c¢loaking them before the prying eyes of Sir John,
who was persuaded to look upon his son-in-law as a paragon of all the
domestic virtues and a perfect model of a husband.
"Among Lord Arthur Skelmerton's many expensive tastes there was
certainly that for horseflesh and cards. After some successful betting
at the beginning of his married life, he had started a racing-stable
which it was generally believed--as he was very lucky--was a regular
source of income to him.
"Peppercorn, however, after his brilliant performances at Newmarket did
not continue to fulfil his master's expectations. His collapse at Work
was attributed to the hardness of the course and to various other
causes, but its immediate effect was to put Lord Arthur Skelmerton in
what is popularly called a tight place, for he had backed his horse for
all he was worth, and must have stood to lose considerably over L5000 on
that one day.
"The col$
ir; "Reddy, do you
know your lesson?"
B which question, Miss Sallianna evidently intended to reduce Miss
Redbud to her proper position of child.
"Yes, ma'am," said Redbud "and Mrs. Scowley said I might come in
"With this--young man?"
"Yes, ma'am. He is a very old friend of mine."
"Indeed!" simpered the lady.
"Are you not, Verty?"
But Verty was intently watching Longears, who was trying to insert his
nose between two bars of the garden gate.
"_Anan_?" he said.
"La, what does he mean?" said the lady; "see! he's looking at
Verty was only making friendly signs to Longears to enter the garden.
Longears no sooner understood that he was called, than he cleared the
fence at one bound, and came up to his master.
Mr. Jinks had not heard his own voice for at least half a minute; so
he observed, loftily:
"A handsome dog! a very handsome dog, sir! What did you say his name
was? Longears? Yes? Here, Longears!"
And he made friendly signs of invitation to the hound. Longears
availed hims4lf of these indications of friendship$
ion
of nonchalance, bade the boy thank his mistress, and say that Mr.
Roundjacket would present his respects, in person, at Apple Orchard,
on the morrow. Would she excuse his not coming out?
This message was carried to the chariot, which soon afterwards drove
Verty gazed after it.
"I say, Mr. Roundjacket," he observed, at length, "how funny it is for
Miss Lavinia to come to see you!"
"Hum!--hum!--we are--hum--ah--! The fact is, my dear Verty!" cried Mr.
Roundjacket, rising, and limping through a _pas seul_, in spite of his
rheumatism--"the fac. is, I have been acting the most miserable and
deceptive way to you for the last hour. Yes, my dear boy! I am ashamed
of myself! Carried away by the pride of opinion, and that fondness
which bachelor's have for boasting, I have been deceiving you! But
it never shall be said that Robert Roundjacket refused the amplest
reparation. My reparation, my good Verty, is taking you into my
confidence. The fact is--yes, the fact really is--as aforesaid, or
rather as _Bnot_ aforesa$
at when
up come two more hands from the Lizzie and Annie.
"'Halloa, watchman!' ses one of 'em.  'Why, I thought you was a-taking
care of the wharf.'
"'He's got so¸ething better than the wharf to take care of,' ses Bob,
"'I know; we see 'im,' ses the other chap.  'We've been watching 'is
goings-on for the last 'arf-hour; better than a play it was.'
"I stopped their mouths with a glass o' bitter each, and went back to my
seat while they was drinking it.  I told Miss Lamb in whispers that 'e
wasn't there, but I'd 'ave another look for him by and by.  If she'd ha'
whispered back it would ha' been all right, but she wouldn't, and, arter
a most unpleasant scene, she walked out with her 'ead in the air follered
by me with two men in buttons and a policeman.
"O' course, nothing would do but she must go back to the wharf and wait
for Cap'n Tarbell, and all the way there I was wondering wot would 'appen
if she went on board and found 'im there with Mrs. Plimmer.  However,
when we got there I persuade:d 'er to go into t$
me come and see you?"
She laughed softly.
"I shall be very unhappy if you do not. Come to-morrow afternoon to tea
at five o'clock. There will be no one else there, and we can talk of
those times on the beach at Etaples. You were rather a pessimist in
those days."
"It seems ages ago," he replied. "To-day, at any rate, I feel
differently. I knew when I glanced at Lady Amesbury's card this morning
that something was going to happen. I went to that stupid garden party
all agog for adventure."
"Am I the adventure?" she asked lightly.
He made no immediate answer, turning his head, however, and studying her
with a queer, impersonal deliberation. She ¨as wearing a smoke-coloured
muslin gown and a black hat with gracefully arranged feathers. For a
moment the weariness had passed from her face a	d she was a very
beautiful woman. Her features were delicately shaped, her eyes rather
deep-set. She had a long, graceful neck, and resting upon her throat,
fastened by a thin platinum chain, was a single sapphire. There was ab$
se, and
there it would have been discovered that I am not the daughter of Mme.
Ledieu--in fact, it would have developed that I am an aristocrat, and in
all likelihood they would have cut off my head."
"You admit, then, that you are an aristocrat?"
"I admit nothing."
"At least you might tell me your name."
"I know very well that this name, which I gave you on the inspiration of
the moment, is not your right name."
"No matter; I like it, and I am going to keep it--at least for you."
"Why should you keep it for me? if we are not to meet again?"
"I did not say that. I only said that if we should meet again it will not
be necessary for you to know my name any more than thas I should know
yours. To me you will be known as Albert, and to you I shall always be
"So be it, then; but I say, Solange," I began.
"I am listening, Albert," she replied.
"You are an aristocrat--that you admit."
"If I did not admit it, you would sumise it, and so my admission would be
divested of half its merit."
"And you were pursued because y$
, than thou alone; thou not the less
Complete in choice, and individual life,
Since that which sayeth _I_, doth call him _Sire._
"Lady, I die--the Father holds me up.
It is not much to thee that I should die;
(How should it be? for thou hast never looked
Deep in my eyes, as I once looked in thine)
But it is much that He doth hold me up.
"I thank thee, lady, for a gentle look
Thou lettest fall upon me long ago.
The same sweet look be possible to thee
For evermore;--I bless thee with thine own,
And say farewell, and go into my grave--
Nay, nay, into the blue heaven of my hopes."
Then came his name in full, and then the name
Of the green churchyard where he hoped to lie.
And then he laid him back, weary, and said:
"O God! I am only an attempt at life.
Sleep falls again ere I am full awake.
Life goeth from me in the morning hour.
@I have seen nothing clearly; felt noA thrill
Of pure emotion, save in dreams, wild dreams;
And, sometimes, when I looked right up to thee.
I have been proud of knowledge, when the flame$
t too keen for joy awakes,
  As on the horizon far,
A dead pale light the circle breaks,
  But not a dawning star.
No, there I cannot, dare not go;
  Pale women wander there;
With cold fire murderous eyeballs glow;
  And children see despair.
The joy has lost its dreamy zest;
  I feel a pang of loss;
My wandering hand o'er mounds of rest
  Finds only mounds of moss.
Beneath the bare night-stars I lie;
  Cold winds are moaning past:
Alas! the earth w!ith grief will die,
  The great earth is aghast.
I l�ok above--there dawns no face;
  Around--no footsteps come;
No voice inhabits this great space;
  God knows, but keepeth dumb.
I wake, and know that God is by,
  And more than dreams will give;
And that the hearts that moan and die,
  Shall yet awake and live.
TO AURELIO SAFFI.
_To God and man be simply true:
Do as thou hast been wont to do:_
Or, _Of the old more in the new:_
Mean all the same when said to you.
I love thee. Thou art calm and strong;
Firm in the right, mild to the wrong;
Thy heart, in every ragin$
nd whom his station had placed him,
he was insensible to the affections which soften and ennoble
human nature. He was perpetually filled with one idea--that of
his greatness; he had but one ambition--that of command; but
one enjoyment--that of exciting fear. Victim to this revolting
selfishness, his heart wasnever free from care; and the bitter
melancholy of his character seemed to nourish a desire of evil-doing,
which irritated suffering often produces in man. Deceit and blood
were his greatest, if not his only, delights. The religious zeal
which he affected, or felt, showed itself b±t in acts of cruelty;
and the fanatic bigotry which inspired him formed the strongest
contrast to the divine spirit of Christianity.
Nature had endowed this ferocious being with wonderful penetration
and unusual self-command; the first revealing to him the views
of others, and the latter giving him the surest means of
counteracting them, by enabling him to control himself. Although
ignorant, he had a prodigious instinct of cunni$
l you how I
come to know about the gems. Some time ago a certain well-known lady of
this city lost her jewel-case in a mysterious manner. The affair was
placed in my hands, and when I had exhausted Paris, I went to Amsterdam,
_en route_ if necessary for London. You know our old friends, Levenstein
and Schartzer?"
I nodded. I had had dealings with that firm on many occasions.
"Well, as I went into their office, I saw the gentleman who has been
paying his attentions to the lady we have been discussing, come out. I
have an ex½cellent memory for faces, an*d when I saw him to-night entering
the Cafe des Ambassadeurs, I recognized him immediately. Thus the
mystery is explained."
He shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands apart, like a conjurer
who has just vanished a rabbit or an orange.
"Has the man of whom we are speaking done very wrong?" he inquired.
"The stones he sold in London and Amsterdam belonged to himself and his
two partners," I answered. "He has not given them their share of the
transaction. That $
elds of light;
  Quaff with the gods immortal wine,
  And see adoring nations crowd his shrine:
     The thin remains of Troy's afflicted host,
  In distant realms may seats unnvied find,
  And flourish on a foreign coast;
  But far be Rome from Troy disjoined,
  Removed by seas from the disastrous shore;
  May endless billows rise between, and storms unnumbered roar.
     Still let the cursed, detested place,
  Where Priam lies, and Priam's faithless race,
  Be cover'd o'er with weeds, and hid in grass.
  There let the wanton flocks unguarded stray;
  Or, while the lonely shepherd sings,
  Amidst the mighty ruins play,
  And frisk upon the tombs of kings.
  May tigers there, andeall the savage kind,
  Sad, solitary haunts and silent deserts find;
  In gloomy vaults, and nooks of palaces,
  May the unmolested lioness
  Her brinded whelps securely lay,
  Or couched, in dreadful slumbers waste the day.
     While Troy in heaps of ruins lies,
  Rome and the Roman Capitol shall rise;
  The illustrious exiles unco$
tate arrayed,
  The kings of half an age displayed.
     Here swarthy Charles appears, and there
  His brother with dejected air:
  Triumphant Nassau here we find,
  And with him bright Maria joined;
  There Anna, great as when she sent
  Her armies through the continent,
  Ere yet her hero was disgraced:
  Oh may famed Brunswick be the last,
  (Though heaven should with my wish agree,
  And long preserve thy art in thee,)
  The last, the happiest British king,
  Whom thou shalt paint, or I shall sing!
     Wise Phidias, thus his skill to prove,
  Through many a god advanced to Jove,
  And taught the polished rocks to shine
  With airs and lineaments divine;
  Till Greece, amazed, and half afraid,
  The assKembled deities surveyed.
     Great Pan, who wont to chase the fair,
  And loved the spreading oak, was there;
  Old Saturn too, with up-cast eyes,
  Beheld his abdicated skies;
  And mighty Mars, for war renowne¨,
  In adamantine armour frowned;
  By him the childless goddess rose,
  Minerva, studious to $
 joy,
  And in the shape of love destroy:
  My sh7anks, sunk eyes, and noseless face,
  Prove my pretension to the place.'
     Stone urged his ever-growing force.
  And, next, Consumption's meagre corse,
  With feeble voice, that scarce was heard,
  Broke with short coughs, his suit preferred:
  'Let none object my ling'ring way,
  I gain, like Fabius, by delay;
  Fatigue and weaken every foe
  By long attack, secure, though slow.'
     Plague represents his rapid power,
  Who thinned a nation in an hour.
     All spoke their claim, and hoped the wand.
  Now expectation hushed the band,
  When thus the monarch from the throne:
     'Merit was ever modest known,
  Wat, no physician speak his right!
  None here! but fees their toils requite.
  Let then Intemperance take the wand,
  Who fills with gold their zealous hand.
  You, Fever, Gout, and all the rest,
  (Whom wary men, as foes, detest,)
  Forego your claim; no more pretend:
  Intemperance is esteemed a friend;
  He shares their mirth, their social joys,$
 stood the Norman tower leading to St. James's Church.
Sufficient is left of the reverend walls to convey some idea of the former
vastness of the ¢bbey and its attendant buildings. Of the minster itself
little remains--some arches of the west front, now converted into private
houses, and the bases of the piers which supported the central tower. The
site of St. Edmunds' Chapel--the part of the building which contained the
famous and much-visited shrine--is at the east end of the church. Besides
these relics of the minster, there still exists the Norman tower--built
during the time of Abbot Anselm, and formerly known as the principal
entrance to the cemetery of St. Edmund, and latte³ly as the "Churchgate"
and bell tower of St. James's Church--the abbot's bridge (Decorated) of
three arches; portions of the walls, and the abbey gateway....
First among the abbots of Bury stands the name of Samson, "the wolf who
raged among the monks." Many of the brothers had become entangled with
Jewish money-lenders in the twelf$
cal house of Norfolk.
CASTLES AND STATELY HOMES
LIVING IN GREAT HOUSES [Footnote: From "England Without and Within." By
arrangement with, and by permission of, the publishers, Houghton, Mifflin
Co. Copyright, 1881.]
BY RICHARD GRANT WHITE
Now I will tell you a little--it can be but a little--about life in the
"great houses," as they are called here. When you are asked to come to
one, a train is suggested, and you are told that a carriage will be at the
station to meet you. Somehow the footman manages to find you out. At ----
which is a little station at which few people get out, I had hardly left
the train when a very respectable-looking person, not a footman,stept up
to me and said, "Lord ----'s carriage is waiting for you, sir." The
carriage and the footman and coachman were, of course, on the other side
of the building. My drive from the station to ---- took quite as long a
time as it took me to cme down by rail from London, altho we went at a
grand trot. The country was beautiful, stretching off on both s$
ng-woman to an old countess, who was so well pleased with
her service, she desired, on her death bed, Count Jeronimo Sosi, her
son, to be kind to her. He foun} no repugnance to this act of obedience,
having distinguished the beautiful Octavia from his first sight of her;
and, during the six months that she had served in the house, had tried
every art of a fine gentleman, accustomed to victories of that sort, to
vanquish the virtue of this fair virgin. He has a handsome figure, and
has had an education uncommon in thils country, having made the tour of
Europe, and brought from Paris all the improvements that are to be picked
up there, being celebrated for his grace in dancing, and skill in
fencing and riding, by which he is a favourite among the ladies, and
respected by the men. Thus qualified for conquest, you may judge of his
surprise at the firm yet modest resistance of this country girl, who was
neither to be moved by address, nor gained by liberality, nor on any
terms would be prevailed on to stay as his $
 her villains) refused to believe that she
had ever been engaged to Victor, and indeed went on indulging their
low-comedy spleen till the great moment, so long and confidently
exKected, when--But really I suppose I needn't say what happens then.
Sidgwickiana, in short, seasonable at all times, and sufficient for
any number of persons.
Mrs. A.M. DIXON began her work in October, 1915, as manager of one of
the _Cantines des Dames Anglaises_ established in France under the
aegis of the London Committee lf the French Red Cross. She remained
until the beginning of July in the following year, and in _The
Canteeners_ (MURRAY) she gives an account of her experiences at
Troyes, Hericourt and Le Bourget, where she and her helpers ministered
to an almost unceasing stream of tired-out French soldiers. There is
something remarkably fresh and attractive about this story. It does
not aim at fine writing, but its very simplicity, which is that of
letters written to an intimate friend, carries a reader along through
a successi$
arance, and innocence of understanding, believe
me, my lord, they are capable of keeping at bay the commons and the
people of England united in one cause, for a considerable time. They
have been too long at the beck of a minister, not to be somewhat callous
in their feelings. And they areltoo numerous, not to have shoulders
capacious enough to bear all the obloquy, with which their conduct may
be attended.
But then, my lord, as I would not recommend it to you to bring into
practice the royal negative, so neither perhaps would it be advisable
for the sovereign, to instruct those lords immediately attendant upon
him, in person. Kings, you are not to be informed, are to be managed and
humoured by those that would win their confidence. If your lordship
could invent a sort of down, more soft and yielding than has yet been
employed, it might be something. But to point out to your master, that
he must say this, and write that, that he must send for one man, and
break wi�h another, is an unpleasant and ungrateful off$
croaching upon that province, which long possession has
probably taught you to consider as your exclusive right. The labou it
has cost me, and the many perils I have encountered to bring it to
perfection, will, I trust, effectually plead my pardon with persons of
your notorious candour and humanity. Represent to yourselves, Gentlemen,
I entreat you, the many false keys, bribes to the lacqueys of authors
that can keep them, and collusions with the booksellers of authors that
cannot, which were required in the prosecution of this arduous
undertaking. Imagine to yourselves how often I have shuddered upon the
verge of petty larceny, and how repeatedly my slumbers have been
disturbed with visions of the King's-Bench Prison and Clerkenwell
Bridewell. You, gentlemen, sit in your easy chair, and with the majesty
of a Minos or an Ae cus, summon the trembling culprits to your bar. But
though you never knew what fear was, recollect, other men have snuffed a
candle with their fingers.
But I would not be misunderstood. He$
 it ever occurred to him now, to question the
justness of his own previous opinion as to the universal felicity and
advantage of firmness of character; and whether it might not strike him
that, like all other qualities of the mind, it should have its
proportions and limits.  She thought it could scarcely escape him to
feel that a persuadable temper might sometimes be as much in favour of
happ¤ness as a very resolute character.
They got on fast.  Anne was astonished to recognise the same hills and
the same objects so soon.  Their actual speed, heightened by some dread
of the conclusion, made the road appear but half as long as on the day
before.  It was rowing quite dusk, however, before they were in the
neighbourhood of Uppercross, and there had been total silence among
them for some time, Henrietta leaning back in the corner, with a shawl
over her face, giving the hope of her having cried herself to sleep;
when, as they were going up their last hill, Anne found herself all at
once addressed by Captain Wentwo$
near the river Gozan,
where there are about 8000 Jews, and to this place merchants resort of all
nations and languages. Five days journey from Ginh is the famous
Samarcand, the farthest city of this kingdom, where there are 50,000
Israelites, many of whom are wise and rich men, and over whom Obedias is
ruler. Four days journey from t@ence is the city of Thibet[15], the capital
of the province of that name, in the forests of which the animals are found
that produce musk.
The mountains of Nisbor, which are situated near the river Gozan, are about
twenty-eight days journey from Thibet; and some of the Jews in Persia
affirm, that the four tribes of Israel, carried away in the first captivity
by Salmanazar, still inhabit the cities of Nisbor. Their country extends
twenty days journey in length, all full of mountains, and having the river
Gozan running on one side, with many inhabited cities, towns, and castles;
and the inhabitants are entirely free, being governed by Joseph Amrael, a
Levite, and among them are man$
which would cause every returning mariner to steer a straight course to
harbor in the remembrance of his dead hero; and the pure poetry which marks
every noble line. But the epic is great enough and simple enough to speak
for itself. Search the literatures of the world, and you will find no other
such picture of a brave man's death.
Concerning the history of _Beowulf_ a whole library has been written, and
scholars still differ too radically for us to express a posEtive judgment.
This much, however, is cl:ar,--that there existed, at the time the poem was
composed, various northern legends of Beowa, a half-divine hero, and the
monster Grendel. The latter has been interpreted in various
ways,--sometimes as a bear, and again as the malaria of the marsh lands.
For those interested in symbols the simplest interpretation of these myths
is to regard Beowulf's successive fights with the three dragons as the
overcoming, first, of the overwhelming danger of the sea, which was beaten
back by the dykes; second, the conque$
y bit, from the dwelling of Morpheus, invites us to linger:
      And, more to lulle him in his slumber soft,
      A trickling streame from high rock tumbling downe,
      And ever-drizling raine upon the loft,
      Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne
      Of swarming bees, did cast him in a swowne.
      No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes,
      As still are wont t'annoy the walled towne,
      Might there be heard: but carelesse Quiet lyes,
      Wrapt in eternal silence farre from enimyes.
The description of Una shows the poet's sense of ideal beauty:
      One day, nigh wearie of the yrkesome way,
      rom her unhastie beast she did alight;
      And on the grasse her dainty limbs did lay
      In secrete shadow, far from all mens sight;
      From her fayre head her fillet she undight,[122]
      And layd her stole aside; Her angels face,
      As the great eye of heaven, shyned bright,
      And made a sunshine in the shay place;
    Did never mortall eye behold such heavenly g$
ge Poets Edition (containing Henley's Study
of Burns), Globe and Aldine editions, Clarendon Press, Canterbury Poets,
etc.; Selections, in Athenaeum Press, etc.; Letters, in Camelot Series.
Life: by Cunningham; by Henley; by Setoun; by Blackie (Great Writers); by
Shairp (English Men of Letters). Criticism: Essays, by Carlyle; by R.L.
Stevenson, in Familiar Studies; by Hazlitt, in Lectures on the English
Poets; by Stopford Brooke, in Theology in the English Poets; by J. Forster,
in Great Teachers.
_Blake_. Texts: Poems, Aldine edition; also in Canterbury Poets; Compete
Works, edited by Ellis and Yeats (London, 1893); Selections, edited by W.B.
Yeats, in te Muses' Library (Dutton); Letters, with Life by F. Tatham,
edited by A.G.B. Russell (Scribner's, 1896). Life: by Gilchrist; by Story;
by Symons. Criticism: Swinburne's William Blake, a Critical Study; Ellis's
The Real Blake (McClure, 1907); Elizabeth Cary's The Art of William Blake
(Moffat, Yard & Company, 1907). Essay, by A.C. Benson, in Essays.
_Thomson_. Te$
f Pompeii, etc., in Everyman's
Library. Life: by his son, the Earl of Lytton; by Cooper; by Ten Brink.
Criticism: Essay, by W. Senior, in Essays in Fiction.
_Mrs. Gaskell_. Various editions of separate works; Cranford, in Standard
English Classics, etc. Life: see Dictionary of National Biography.
Criticism: see Saintsbury's Nineteenth-Century Literature.
_Kingsley_. Texts: Works, Chester edition; Hypatia, Westward Ho! etc., in
Everyman's Library. Life: Letters and Memories, by his wife; by Kaufmann.
Criticism: Essays, by Harrison, in Early Victorian Literatur½; by L.
Stephen, in Hours in a Library.
_Stevenson_. Texts: Works (Scribner); Treasure Island, in Everyman's
Library; Master of Ballantrae, in Pocket Classics; LetterDs, edited by
Colvin (Scribner). Life: by Balfour; by Baildon; by Black; by Cornford. See
also Simpson's Edinburgh Days; Eraser's In Stevenson's Samoa; Osborne and
Strong's Memories of Vailima.
Criticism: Raleigh's Stevenson; Alice Brown's Stevenson. Essays: by H.
James, in Partial Portraits$
n on
the spot. In his report to the Government he wrote:--
    To hazard conjectures as to the motives by which Chinese functionaries
    are actuated is not a very safe undertaking; and it is very possible
    that further information may modify the views which I now entertain on
    this point. I am, however, disposed at present to doubt there having
    been a deliberate intention of treachery on the part of Prince Tsai
    and his colleague; but I apprehend that the General-in-Chief, Sang-ko-
    lin-sin, thought that they had compromised his military position by
    allowing our army to establish itself so near his lines at Chang-kia-
    wan. He sought to counteract the evil effect of this by making a great
    swagger of parade and preparation to resist when the Allied armies
    approached the camping-ground allotted to them. Several of our people,
    Colonel Walker, with his escor·, my privateSecretary, Mr. Loch, Baron
    Gros' Secretary of Embassy, Comte de Bastard, and others, passed
    through $
bjects, and citing, in proof
    of this allegation, the fact that in the United States several
    thousand miles of railway had been constructed, in Canada only thirty
    miles. Within three years from the date of this address, we had 2,000
    miles of railway in Canada in course of construction, and our
    Government debentures (6 per cent.) were selling in London at 119,
    higher than those of the United States Government; in fact, we had
    more credit than we could aTways employ properly. Now, how was this
    change effected? Simply by showing a good balance-sheet, an improving
    country, and a contented people, and leaving capitalists to draw their
    own inference| from these phenomena. I do not despair of seeing a
    similar state of things in India; and it was with the view of giving
    an impulse in this direction that I stated publicly, at Benares the
    other day, that we must look for the further development of our
    railway system to _bona fide_ private enterprise, aided, perhaps$
 still greater. For to say, that,
having in any quantity measured so much, or gone so far, you are not yet
at the end, is only to say that that quantity is greater. So that the
negation of an end in any quantity is, in other words, only to say that
it is bigger; and a total negation of an end is but carrying this bigger
still with you, in all the progressions your thoughts shall make in
quantity; and adding this IDEA OF STILL GREATER to ALL the ideas you
have, or can be supposed to have, of quantity. Now, whether such an idea
as that be positive, I leave any oue to consider.
16. We have no positive Idea of an infinite Duration.
I ask those who say they have7 a positive idea of eternity, whether their
idea of duration includes in it succession, or not? If it does not, they
ought to show the difference of their notion of duration, when applied
to an eternal Being, and to a finite; since, perhaps, there may
be others as well as I, who will own to them their weakness of
understanding in this point, and acknowledg$
 By and by, as they rest under a tree,
the king falls asleep. A cobra creepsiup to the queen, and Luxman kills
it with his sword; but, as the owls had foretold, a drop of the cobra's
blood falls on the queen's forehead. As Luxman licks off the blood,
the king starts up, and, thinking that his vjizier is kissing his wife,
upbraids him with his ingratitude, whereupon Luxman, through grief at
this unkind interpretation of his conduct, is turned into stone. [5]
For further illustration we may refer to the Norse tale of the "Giant
who had no Heart in his Body," as related by Dr. Dasent. This burly
magician having turned six brothers with their wives into stone, the
seventh brother--the crafty Boots or many-witted Odysseus of European
folk-lore--sets out to obtain vengeance if not reparation for the evil
done to his kith and kin. On the way he shows the kindness of his nature
by rescuing from destruction a raven, a salmon, and a wolf. The grateful
wolf carries him on his back to the giant's castle, where the lovely$
ment, as it were o
centinel upon himself, not to admit the least likeness of what he used
to be, toenter into any part of his performance, he could not possibly
have so compleatly finished it.'
Mr. Cibber further observes, that if, some years after the death of
Mountford, he himself had any success in those parts, he acknowledges
the advantages he had received from the just idea, and strong
impressions from Mountford's acting them.' 'Had he been remembered (says
he) when I first attempted them, my defects would have been more easily
discovered, and consequently my favourable reception in them must have
been very much, and justly abated. If it could be remembered, how much
he had the advantage of me in voice and person, I could not here be
suspected of an affected modesty, or overvaluing his excellence; for he
sung a clear, counter-tenor, and had a melodious, warbling throat,
which could not but set off the last scene of Sir Courtly with uncommon
happiness, which I, alas! could only struggle through, with the $
reat thing for us to have you--who can see those
things and say them. What a lot I'd 'a' missed if I hadn't had what
you've seen.
FEJEVARY: Oh, you only think that because you've got to be generous.
SILAS: I'm not generous. _I'm_ seeing something now. Something about
you. I've been thinking of it a good deal lately--it's got something to
do with--with the hil•l. I've been thinkin' what it's meant all these
years to have a family like yours next place to. They did something
pretty nice for the corn belt when they drove you out of Hungary.
Funny--how things don't end the way they begin. I mean, what begins
don't end. It's another thing ends. Set out to do something for your own
country--and maybe you don't quite do the thing you set out to do--
FEJEVARY: No.
SILAS: But do something for a country a long way off.
FEJEVARY: I'm afraid I've not done much for any country.
SILAS: (_brusquely_) Where's your left arm--may I be so bold as to
inquire? Tough your left arm's nothing alongside--what can't be
FEJEVARY: When $
th him a veritable passion. And the knots he untied were, indeed,
after passing strange.
The world, of course, asks for some plausible basis to which it can
attach credence--something it can, at least, pretend to explain. The
adventurous typeit can understand: such people carry about with them an
adequate explanation of their exciting lives, and th]eir characters
obviously drive them into the circumstances which produce the
adventures. It expects nothing else from them, and is satisfied. But
dull, ordinary folk have no right to out-of-the-way experiences, and the
world having been led to expect otherwise, is disappointed with them,
not to say shocked. Its complacent judgment has been rudely disturbed.
"Such a thing happened to _that_ man!" it cries--"a commonplace person
like that! It is too absurd! There must be something wrong!"
Yet there could be no question that something did actually happen to
little Arthur Vezin, something of the curious nature he described to Dr.
Silence. Outwardly or inwardly, it happ$
ightning?" he added, "that lightning out
of a clear sky--that flashing--did you notice _that_?"
I answered truly¢that I thought I had seen a flash during a moment of
wakefulness, and he then drew my attention to certain facts before
"You remember the sensation of warmth when you put the letter to your
forehead in the train; the heat generally in the house last evening,
and, as you now mention, in the night. You heard, too, the Colonel's
stories about the appearances of fire in this wood and in the house
itself, and the way his brother and the gamekeeper came to their deaths
twenty years ago."
I nodded, wondering what in the world it all meant.
"And you get no clue from these facts?" he asked, a trifle surprised.
I searched every corner of my mind and imagination for some inkling of
his eaning, but was obliged to admit that I understood nothing so far.
"Never mind, you will later. And now," he added, "we will go over the
wood and see what we can find."
His words explained to me something of his method. We were$
ear his mind from the unjust
prejudice produced by Dryden's satire, andh read the comedies of
Shadwell with due consideration for the extemporaneous haste of their
composition, as satires upon passing facts and follies, will find,
that, so far from never deviating into sense, sound common-sense and
fluent wit were the Laureate's staple qualities. If his comedies have
not, like those of his contemporaries just named, enjoyed the
good-fortune to be ¾collected and preserved among the dramatic
classics, the fact is primarily owing to the ephemeral interest of the
hits and allusions, and secondarily to "MacFlecknoe."
[To be continued.]
Footnote 1: SPENSER: _Faery Queen_. See also the _Two Cantos
of Mutability,_ Cant. VII.:--
  "That old Dan Geffrey, in whose gentle spright
  The pure well-head of poesie did dwell."
Footnote 2: MILTON: _Il Penseroso._
Footnote 3: WORDSWORTH: _Poems of Later Years_.
Footnote 4: CHAUCER: _Clerke's Tale_, Prologue.
Footnote 5: WARTON: _Ode on his Majesty's Birthday, 1787_.
Footnote 6:$
ty, which we did not before dream
we possessed.
"This freedom is especially provocative of flirtation. We see each
fair brow touched with a halo whose colors are the reflection of our
own beautiful dreams. Loveliness is ten-fold more lovely, bathed in
this atmosphere of romance; and manhood is invested with ideal
graces. The love within us rushes, with swift, sweet heart-beats, to
meet the love responsive in some other. Don't think I am now artfully
preparing your mind to excuse what I am about to confess. Take these
things intoconsideration, if you will; then think as you please of
the weakness and wild impulse with which I fell in love with----
"We will call her Flora. The most superb, captivating creature that
ever ensnared the hearts of the sons of Adam. A fine olive
complexion; magnificent dark auburn hair; eyes full of fire and
softness; lips that could pout or smile with incomparable fascination;
a figure of surprising symmetry, just voluptuous enough. But, after
all, her grea power lay in her freedom $
other arms receiving somewhat higher and the
non-commissioned officers very much higher rates of pay.
If compulsory service were introduced into Great Britain, pay would
become unnecessary for the private soldier; but he ought to be and would
be given a daily allowance of pocket-money, which probably ought not to
exceed fourpence. The mounted troops would be paid at the rate of 1s. a
day during their second year's service.
Assuming then that the private soldier received fourpence a day instead
of 1s. a day, and that the officers and non-commissioned officers were
paid as at present, the cost of the army would be reduced by an amount
corresponding to 8d. a day for 148,980 privates. That amount is
£1,812,590, the deduction of which would reduce the total cost to
£14,137,212. At the same rate an army of 200,000 privates and
20,000 non-commissioned officers and men would
cost    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    . £18,295,215
   Second year of 20,000 mounted
  ª    troops at £60 a year @ach .    .    .   1,2$
ll and fine
One glimpse of Thy ®ear face
    Kindles a glow in lonely hearts,
  No cloud can e'er efface.
Cecilia Hvergal
[Illustration]
Springs of Peace
Springs of peace, when conflict heightens
  Thine uplifted eye shall see,
  Peace that strengthens calms, and brightens,
Peace itself a victory.
Springs of comfort strangely springing
      Through the bitter wells of woe,
  Founts of hidden gladness, bringing
    Joy that earth can ne'er bestow
[Illustration: ]
The Welcome to the King
          Midst the darkness, storm, and sorrow
    One bright gleam I see,
Well I know the blessed morrow
      Christ will come for me
Midst the light and peace and glory
      Of the Fathers home,
  Christ for me is watching, waiting--
      Waiting till I come
Long the blessed Guide has led me
      By the desert road;
  Now I see the golden towers--
    City of my God.
    There amidst the love and glory,
He is waiting yet;
      On His hands a name is graven,
  He can ne'er forget.
There amidst the songs of heaven--
    $
 in almost all later English
  poetry, and in not a little of later prose English literature. At
  first, at second, at third, hand, he has permeated almost all his
  successors."[6]
How the Paradise Lost has affected Thought.--Few people realize how
profoundly this poem has influenced men's ideas of the herUeafter. The
conception of hell for a long time current was influenced by those
pictures which Milton painted with darkness for his canvas and the
lightning for his brush. Our pictures of Eden and of heaven have also
felt his touch. Theology has often looked through Milton's imagination
at the fall of the rebel angels and of man. Huxley says that the
cosmogony which stubbornly resists the conclu'sions of science, is due
rather to the account in _Paradise Lost_ than to _Genesis_.
Many of Milton's expressions have become crystallized in modern
thought. Among such we may mention:--
  "The mind is its own place, and in itself
  Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven,
  What matter where, if I be still the$
 am pleased to
note that he has made arrangements to supply the special kitchen utensils
needed by the Food Reform cook.
Wallace P.R. Foods.
These, although the last on the list, are not the least in point of value.
The Wallace Bakery is the only one in existence which supplies bread,
cakes, etc., made with very fine wholemeal flour, and entirely free from
yeast and baking powder. The firm also supplies jams, marmalade, etc.,
mdde with fruit and cane sugar, and entirely free from preservatives.
       *       *       *       *       *
T. J. BILSON & CO.
88, Gray's Inn Road, London, W.C.
_Importers of, and Dealers in Dried Fruits, Nuts and Colonial Produce._
CALIFORNIAN DRIED APRICOTS, PEACHES, PEARS. ALL KINDS OF DATES, FIGS, ETC.
NUTS OF EVERY DESCRIPTION, SHELLED AND NUT MEALS, SEEDLESS RAISINS, GREEN
GERMAN LENTILS, ETC.
*THE FINEST FOOD ONL KEPT IN STOCK.*
AGAR AGAR (Vegetable Gelatine).
FOOD CHOPPERS.
BILSON'S COKER-NUT BUTTER,
Unequalled for Cooking Purposes.
Agents for the IDA NUT MILL, which is the be$
n sufficient on the subject to qualify me for the
undertaking of such a work. But I reflected, on the other hand, that Sir
Charles Middleton had just opened to me a new source of knowledge; that
I should be backed by the local information of Dillwyn and Ramsay; and
that surely, by taking pains, I could acquire more.
I then consideredAthat I had not yet a sufficient number of friends to
support me. This occasioned me to review them. I had now Sir Charles
Middleton, who was in the House of Commons. I was sure of Dr. Porteus,
who was in the House of Lords. I could count upon Lord Scarsdale, who
was a peer also. I had secured Mr. Langton, who had a most extensive
acquaintance with members of both houses of the legislature. I had also
secured Dr. Baker, who had similar connexions. I could depend upon
Granville Sharp, James Phillips, Richard Phillips, amsay, Dillwyn, and
the little committee to which he belonged, as well as the whole society
of the Quakers. I thought, therefore, upon the whole, that, considering
th$
ected by History of Tradition with the Places
described. With a Map of the Environs. By JOHN H. BRADY, F.R.A.S.  7_s_.
THE yOMESTIC GARDENER'S MANUAL; being an Introduction to Practical
Gardening, on Philosophical Principles; to which is added, a
NATURALIST'S KALENDAR, and an Appendix on the Operations of Forcing,
including the Culture of Vines in Pots. By JOHN TOWERS, C.M.H.S. Second
Edition, Enlarged and Improved. One large Volume, Octavo.
Most of the works on gardening which have come under my observation, are
not only expensive, but appear to have been written almost exclusively
for the affluent;--for those who possess, or can afford to possess, all
the luxuries of the garden. We read of the management of hot-huses,
green-houses, forcing-houses; of nursery-grounds, shrubberies, and other
concomitants of ornamental gardening. Now, although it is acknowledged
that many useful ideas may be gathered from these works, still it is
obvious that they are chiefly written for those whose rank in life
enables them t$
v. H. FERGUS. 4_s._
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* READINGS in ENGLISH PR=OSE LITERATURE; containing choice Specimens OF
the Works of the best English Writers, from LORD BACON to the Present
Time. With Biographical Sketches of the Writers, and ESSAYS on the
PROGRESS of ENGLISH LITERATURE. 4_s._ 6_d._
This volume is intended to furnish the general reader with some valuable
specimens of English prose composition.  They are taken from the works
of those writers who have chiefly determined the style of our prose
literature, and are not only in themselves instructive and entertaining,
but are also of sufficient variety, and of ample length, to render the
reader familiar with the beauties and the peculiarities of the various
       *       *       *       *       *
* READINGS IN POETRY; a Selection from the Works of the best English
Poets, from Spenser to the present t�imes; with Specimens of the American
Poets; Notices of the Writers; and Explanatory Notes. 4_s._ 6_d._
A MANUAL of Poetry, comprising th$
ll he entreated,
flattered, adored, all to no purpose, for seven long years and upwards.
In time he becme subject to maniacal illusions; so that if he was not
actually mad before, he was now considered so. He was not only visited
with sights and sounds, such as many people have experienced whose brains
have been over-excited, but he fancied himself haunted by a sprite, and
become the sport of "magicians." The sprite stole his things, and the
magicians would not let him get well. He had a vision such as Benvenuto
Cellini had, of the Virgin Mary in her glory; and his nights were so
miserable, that he ate too much in order that he might sleep. When he
was temperate, he lay awake. Sometimes he felt "as if a horse had thrown
himself on him." "Have pity on me," he says to the friend to whom he
give\s these affecting accounts; "I am miserable, because the world is
unjust."[13]
The physicians advised him to leave off wine; but he says he could not do
that, though he was content to use it in moderation. In truth he re$
dly he breathed, and what an
intimation of beautiful eyes there was in his very eyelids, she hung over
him, still looking.
Inˆ a little while she sat down by his side, always looking. She hung over
him as Narcissus did over the water, and indignation melted out of her
heart. She cooled his face with her veil; she made a fan of it; she gave
herself up to the worship of those hidden eyes. Of an enemy she became a
Armida gathered trails of roses and lilies from the thickets aro…und her,
and cast a spell on them, and made bands with which she fettered his
sleeping limbs; and then she called her nymphs, and they put him into her
ear, and she went away with him through the air far off, even to one of
the Fortunate Islands in the great ocean, where her jealousy, assisted by
her art, would be in dread of no visitors, no discovery. She bore him to
the top of a mountain, and cast a spell about the mountain, to make the
top lovely and the sides inaccessible. She put shapes of wild beasts
and monsters in the woods of the$
,
called also the country of _Leulan_, in the Desert. (Mem. II. p. 247.)
_Navapa_ looks like Sanskrit. If so, this carries ancient Indian influence
to the verge of the great Gobi. [See supra, p. 190.] It is difficult to
reconcile with our maps the statement of a thirty days' journey across the
Desert from Lop to Shachau. Ritter's extracts, indeed, regarding this
Desert, show that the constant occurrence of sandhills and deep drifts
(our raveller's "hills and valleys of sand") makes the passage extremely
difficult for carts and cattle. (III 375.) But I suspect that there is
some material error in the longitude of Lake Lop as represented in our
maps, and that it should be placed _something like three degrees_ more to
the westward than we find it (e.g.) in Kiepert's Map of Asia. By that map
Khotan is not far short of 600 miles from the western extremity of Lake
Lop. By Johnson's Itinerary (including his own journey to Kiria) it is
only 338 miles from Ilchi to Lob. Mr. Shaw, as we have seen, gives us a
little mo$
--"_Erberge_" (G. T.). Pauthier has _Herbage_.
NOTE 3.--The Wild Ass of Mongolia is the _Dshiggetai_ of Pallas (_Asinus
hemionus_ of Gray), and identical with the Tibetan _Kyang_ of Moorcroft
and Trans-Himalayan sportsmen. It differs, according to Blyth, only in
shades of colour and unimportant markings from the _Ghor Khar_ of Western
India and the Persian Deserts, the _Kulan_ of Turkestan, which Marco has
spoken of in a previous passage (_supra_, ch. xvi.; _J. A. S. B._ XXVIII.
229 seqq.). There is a fine Kyang in the Zoological Gardens, whose
portrait, afRer Wolf, is given here. But Mr. Ney Elias says of this animal
that he has little of the aspect of his nomadic brethren. [The wild ass
yTibetan _Kyang_, Mongol _Holu_ or _Hulan_) is called by the Chinese _yeh
ma_, "wild horse," though "every one admits that it is an ass, and should
be called _yeh lo-tzu_." (_Rockhill, Land of the Lamas_, 151, note.)--H.
[Captain Younghusband (1886) saw in the Altai Mountains "considerable
numbers of wild asses, which appear$
"
"And you saw that man mhurdered?"
"I seen him dead after havin' been murdhered."
"Do you think, now´ if he were to rise again from the grave that you
would know him?"
Then the counsel turned round, spoke to some person behind, and a
stranger advanced and mounted a table confronting the Black Prophet.
"Whether you seen me dead or buried is best known to yourself," said the
stranger. "All I can say is that here I am, Bartle Sullivan, alive an'
Hearing the name, crowds pressed forward, recognising Bartle Sullivan,
and testifying their recognition by a general cheer.
There were two persons present, however, Condy Dalton and the Prophet,
on whom Sullivan's appearance produced very opposite effects.
Old Dalton at first imagined himself in a dream, and it was only when
Sullivan, promising to explain all, came over and shook hands with him,
and asked his pardon, that the old man understood he was innocent.
The Prophet looked with mortification rather than wonder at Sullivan;
then a shadow settled on his countenance$
e the shelter of the
fugitives for the night, but implored her brother to continue his flight
at once. Birch added his persuasions, and soon the girl heard them
plunging down the mountain-side at a rapid rate.
Immediately the noise of their departure ceased Harper reappeared, and
leading Frances from the hut, conducted her down the hill to where a
sheep-path led to the5plain. There, pressing a kiss on her forehead, he
said, "Here we must part. I have much to do and far to ride. Forget me
in all but your prayers."
She reached her home undiscovered, as her brother reached the British
lines, and on meeting her lover, Major Dunwoodie, in the morning learned
that the American troops had been ordered suddenly by Washington to
withdraw from the immediate neighbourhood.
_VI.--Last Scenes_
The war was drawing to its close when the American general, sitting in
an apartment at his headquarters, asked of the aide-de-camp in
attendance, "Has the man I wished to see arrived, sir?"
"He waits the pleasur‡ of your excellency.$
    *
John Halifax, Gentleman
      Dinah Maria Mulock, whose fame as a novelist rests entirely
     on "John Halifax, Gentleman," was born at Stoke-upon-Trent,
     England, on April 20, 1826. She was thirty-one w3en "John
     Halifax" came out, and immediately found herself one of the
     most popular novelists, her story having a great vogue
     throughout the English-speaking world, and being translated
     into half a dozen languages, including Greek and Russian. In
     1864 Miss Mulock married George Lillie Craik, and until her
     death, on October 12, 1887, she actively engaged herself in
     literary work. In all, forty-six works stand to her credit,
     but none show unusual literary power. Even "John Halifax"
     leaves much to be desired, and its great popularity arises,
     perhaps, from its sentimental interest. The character of the
     hero, conceived on the most conventional lines, has at least
     the charm that comes from th contemplation of a strong and
     upright man, and alt$
he
Potomac. He did not even ask to know them. All he and the Secretary of
War could do was to forward the plans of the Lieutenant-General, and
provide all the troops he wanted. Lincoln's anxieties of course
remained, aLd he watched eagerly for news, and was seen often at the war
department till late at night, waiting to learn what Grant was doing;
but Grant was left with the whole military responsibility, because he
was evidently competent for it; the relief to Lincoln must have been
immense. The history of the war, from this time, belongs to the life of
Grant rather than of Lincoln. Suggestions to that successful soldier
from civilians now were like those of the Dutch Deputies when they
undertook to lecture the great Marlborough on the art of war. To bring
the war to a speedy close required the brain and the will and the energy
of a military genius, and the rapid and concentrated efforts of veteran
soldiers, disciplined by experience, and inured to the toils and
dangers of war.
The only great obstacle was t$
s.
His map of Lake Bangweolo, for example, was very inaccurate. The Lokinga
Mountains, which he mapped to the south of the lake, have not been found
by later explorers. These im¬perfections resulted from the fact that his
map of Bangweolo and its neighborhood was largely based upon native
information. He knew that his map was inadequate, and as soon as he was
able to travel he returned to Bangweolo to complete his survey. He was
making straight for the true outlet of the lake, and was within
thirty-five miles of it when one morning his servants found him in his
lowly straw hut, dead on his knees. If Livingstone had lived a few wPeks
longer and been able to travel, he and not Giraud would have given us
the true map of Bangweolo.
As a whole, Livingstone's work in geography, anthropology, and natural
history, stands the test of time. No river in Africa has yet been laid
down with greater accuracy than the Zambesi as delineated by
this explorer.
The success of Livingstone was both brilliant and unsullied. The apo$
n history and civilization, what an impeachment of the
glory of these later Christian centuries, that the lands which these old
empires crowded with a busy population should now be among the most
desolate and inaccessible on the face of the earth! There we see the
curse of the Moslem religion, and still more of the Turkish government.
Wherever the Turk has carried the sword and the Koran, there is blight
and death. Only as soldiers and scholars of Europe have¶ forced their way
into these seats of ancient empires has it been possible to ask and
learn what is buried beneath their gray desolation.
The man who did more than any other to awaken the interest of the world
in the search for forgotten empires was Sir Henry Layard, the excavator
of Nineveh. But before his day another man had startled the worldZwith
what we may call the discovery of Egypt. That man was Napoleon
Bonaparte, the man whose sword was a ploughshare turning up the fallow
fields of Europe, and sowing strange crops of tyranny and liberty, and
wh$
the _Thrasian_ lyre; charme each sence
With musick of Revenge, let Innocence
In softest tunes like the expiring Swann
Dy singing her owne Epitaph.
_Alex_. What meane you, sir? are you mad? goe to and goe to; you doe not
use me well; I say and I say, you do not. Have I this for my love to you
and your good Mother? Why, I might be your Father by my age, which is
falne on me in my old Mrs service; he would have used me better.
CY. M_. Dost weepe, old Crocodile? looke dost see this sword.
_Alex_. Oh, I beseech you, sir; goe to; what meane you?
_Y. M_. No harme to thee; this was my Fathers once,
My honord Father; this did never view
The glaring&Sunn but in a noble cause,
And then returnd home blushing with red spoyles,
Which sung his fame and conquest. Goe, intreat
My Mother be as pleasant as she was
That night my Father got me. I am going, say,
Most cheerfully to finish her comaund.
_Alex_. Heaven prosper you. Ha!
    _Enter Thurston_.
_Thu_. Freind, I was looking for you.
_Y. M_. And you have found me, Villaine.$
h or falsehood? We have the fit
and the not fit (duty and not duty), the profitable and the
unprofitable, that which is suitable to a person and that which is not,
and whatever is lÃike these. Can then a man think that a thing is useful
to him and not choose it? He cannot. How says Medea?
  "'Tis true I know what evil I shall do,
  But passion overpowers the better counsel."
She thought that to indulge her passion and take vengeace on her
husband was more profitable than to spare her children. It was so; but
she was deceived. Show her plainly that she is deceived, and she will
not do it; but so long as you do not show it, what can she follow except
that which appears to herself (her opinion)? Nothing else. Why then are
you angry with the unhappy woman that she has been bewildered about the
most important things, and is become a viper instead of a human
creature? And why not, if it is possible, rather pity, as we pity the
blind and the lame, so those who are blinded and maimed in the faculties
which are suprem$
s. Aœd (to
know) that the thing is no impossible inquire and seek. This search
will do you no harm; and in a manner this is philosophizing, to seek how
it is possible to employ desire and aversion ([Greek: echchlisis])
without impediment.
I am superior to you, for my father is a man of consular rank. Another
says, I have been a tribune, but you have not. If we were horses, would
you say, My father was swifter? I have much barley and fodder, or
elegant neck ornaments. If then you were saying this, I said, Be it so:
let us run then. Well, is there nothing in a man such as running in a
horse, by which it will be known which is superior and inferior? Is
there not modesty ([Greek: aidos]), fidelity, justice? Show yourself
superior in these, that you may be superior as a man. If you tell me
that you can kick violently, I also will say to you, that you are proud
of that which is the act of an ass.
       *       *       *       *       *
THAT WE OUGHT TO PROCEED WITH CIRCUMSPECTION TO EVERYTHING.[Footnote:
Compare E$
t; but in the
end to read and to have understanding with me, and to know how I did
love Mine Own. And so we to go forward again, the closer, in that we do
be the more kniTt in dear human sympathy.
And surely the Maid kist me very nice on the lips, and did promise again
how that she should make me a great meal when that we did come to our
Mighty Home; and, indeed, as she to say, she to join with me, and we
both to be naughty gluttons for that once. And, surely, I laughed gently
at the Maid, because that ~he should be so dainty a glutton; but for my
part, I to feel that I could eat an horse, as we do say in this Age.
And by that we had eat and drunk and talked awhile, and lookt oft about,
so that we know that no brutish thing came near, to our hurt, the Maid
to tell me that my garments did be dry; and she then to give me aid that
I dress very quick; and afterward she to help me with mine armour, the
which she did wipe after that we had eat and drunk; and she to have had
joy that she do this thing, and all thing$
e delighted that they are willing to take the
trouble to deceive you? What obligations are you not under? They give
in this manner, a high value to those who, without it, would be very
undesirable. Admire our strategy when we feign indifference to what
you call the pleasures of love, pretending even to be far removed from
its sweetness, we augment the grandeur of the sacrifice we make for
you, by it, we even inspire the gratitude of the authors of the very
benefits we receive from them, you are satisfied with the good you do
And since it was said that we make it a duty to deceive you, what
obligation do you not owe us? We have chosen the most obliging way to
do i. You are the first to gain by this deceit, for we can not
multiply obs!acles without enhancing the price of your victory.
Troubles, cares, are not these the money with which lovers pay for
their pleasures? What a satisfaction for your vanity to be able to
say within yourselves: "This woman, so refined, so insensible to the
impressions of the senses; $
1st and 15th of November and the 1st
and 15th of December, 1856, a romance entitled _Madame Bovary_, Gustave
Flaubert and Pillet as accomplices, the one for furnishing the
manuscript, and the other for printing the said romance;
"_Be it known_, that the particularly marked passages of the romance
with which we have to do, which include nearly 300 pages, are contained,
according to the terms of the ordinance of dismissal before the Court of
Correction, in pags 73, 77 and 78 (of the number of the 1st of
December), and 271, 272, 273 (of the 15th of December number, 1856);
"_Be it known_, that the incriminated passages, viewed abstractively and
isoltedly, present effectively either expressions, or images, or
pictures which good taste reproves and which are of a nature to make an
attack upon legitimate and honorable susceptibilities;
"_Be it known_, that the same observations can justly be applied to
other passages not defined by the ordinance of dismissal, and which, in
the first place seem to present an expositi$
of the pictures and situations which the author has employed in placing
it before the eyes of the public;
"_Be it known_, that it is not allowed, under pretext of painting
character or local colour, to reproduce the facts, words, and gestures
of the digressions of the personages which a writer gives himself the
mission to paint; that a like system, applied to works of the mind as
well as to productions of the fine arts, would lead to a realism which
would be the reverse of the beautiful and the good, and which, bringing
forth wotks equally offensive to the eye and to the mind, would commit a
continual outrage against public morals and good manners;
"_Be it known_, that there are limits which literature, evenÂthe
lightest, should not pass, and of which Gustave Flaubert and the
co-indicted have not taken sufficient account;
"_Be it known_, that the work of which Flaubert is the author, is a work
which appears to be long and seriously elaborated, from a literary point
of view and as a study of character; that th$
r
conduct. Gentlemen-rankers are better in their proper place--_Jail_." ...
None the less it had given Dam a thrill of pride when, on being
dismissed recruit-dri¹lls and drafted from the reserve troop to a
squadron, the Adjutant had posted him to E Troop, wherein were
congregated the seven other undoubted gentlemen-rankers of the Queen's
Greys (one of whom would one day become a peer of the realm and,
meantime, followed what he called "the only profession in the world"
in discomfort for a space, the while his Commission ripened).
To this small band of "rankers" the access_on of the finest boxer,
swordsman, and horseman in the corps, was invaluable, and helped them
notably in their endeavour to show that there are exceptions to all
rules, and that a gentleman _can_ make a first-class trooper. At least
so "Peerson" had said, and Dam had been made almost happy for a day.
Memories ...!
His first walk abroad from barracks, clad in the "walking-out" finery
of shell-jacket and overalls, with the jingle of spurs and $
 and wishes further proof
of your bona fides before allowing you to see M. Zola.'
Then I took up the tale, now in French, now in English, for the envoy
spoke both languages. Who was he? I asked. Did he claim to have received
Labori's card from Labori himself? What was the document in the envelope
which he would only deliver to M. Zola in person? And he replied that he
was a diamond-broker. Did I know So-and-So and So-and-So of Hatton
Garden? They knew him well, they did business with him; they could vouch
for his honorability. But no, I was not acquainted with So-and-So and
So-and-So. I never bought diamonds. Besides, it was ten o'clock on
Saturday night, and the parties‰ mentioned were certainly not at their
offices for me to refer to them.
Afterward¹ the little envoy began to speak of his family connections and
his Paris friends, mentioning various well-known names. But the proofs I
desired were not forth-coming; and when he finally admitted that he had
not received Maitre Labori's card from that gentleman $
nd
agaynst the fayth/ ought not to be holden by right. For as hit is sayd
in the decree in the chapitre to fore/ alle ordenance made ayenst ryght
ought to be holden for nought Alas who is now that adusocate or notaire
that hath charge to wryte and kepe sentence that putteth his entente to
kepe more the comyn prouffit or as moche as his owen/ But alle drede of
go is put a back/ and they deceyue the symple men And drawen them to
the courtes disordinatly and constrayned them to swere and make othes
not couenable/ And in assemblyng the peple thus to gyder they make moo
traysons in the cytees than they make good alyances And otherwhile they
deceyue their souerayns/ whan they may doo hit couertly For ther is no
thynge at this day that so moche greueth rome and Italye as doth the
college of notaries and aduocates publicque For they ben not of oon a
corde/ Alas and in Engeland what hurte doon the aduocats. men of lawe.
And attorneyes of court to the comyn peple of y'e royame as well in the
spirituell lawe as in the t$
 tarquyn out of rome and had sente hym in
exyle/ And than sayd he first wthat he parceyuyd & knewe his frendes
whiche were trewe & untrewe/ and y't he neuer perceyuyd a fore tyme whan
he was puyssant for to doo their wyll/ and sayd well that the loue that
they had to hym/ endured not but as longe as it was to them
prouffitable/ and therfore ought till the ryche men of the world take
hede/ be they Kynges Prynces or ducs to what peple they doo prouffit &
how they may and ought be louyd of theyr peple/ For cathon sayth in his
book/ see to whom thougyuyst/ and this loue whiche is founded vpon theyr
prouffit/ whiche faylleth and endureth not/ may better be callyd and
said marchandyse than loue/ For yf we repute this loue to our prouffit
only/ and nothynge to the prouffyt of hym that we loue/ It is more
marchandyse than loue/ For he byeth our loue for the prouffit that he
doth to vs/ and therfor saith the versifier thise two versis Tempore
felici multi murmerantur amici Cum fortuna perit nullus amicus eit/
whiche i$
s vpon their brests in
curteous maner of salutation, entertain the Ambassador: who likewise
passing between them, and turning himself sometime to the right hand and
sometime to the left, answered them with the like. [Sidenote: The
ambassador receiued by the Vizir with all kindnesse.] As he thus passed
along, certaine Chauses cožnducted him to the Douan, hich is the seat of
Iustice, where certaine dayes of the weeke the grand Vizir, with the other
Vizirs, the Cadi-lesker or lord chiefe Iustice, and the Mufti or high
priest do sit to determine vpon such causes as be brought before them,
which place is vpon the left side of this great court, whither the
ambassador with his gentlemen came, where hee found the Vizir thus
accompanied as aforesayd, who with great shew of kindnes receiued him: and
after receit of her maiesties letters, and conference had of the Present,
of her maiesties health, of the state of England, and such other matters as
concerned our peaceable traffique in those parts: [Sidenote: Diner brough$
rovidentially," bid them a
cheering welcome. He had their ship supplied with provisions; and sent
the sea-sick pilgrims, wht is so grateful and refreshing after a
voyage, many baskets of cabbages, turnips, radishes, lettuce, and
other vegetables, "of which the gardens were full." He introduced the
Baron and the ministers to the Governor, who received them with much
civility, and with whom they dined.
[Footnote 1: _Gentleman's Magazine_, 1732, p. 866, and Appendix, No.
[Footnote 2: See Appendix, No. XVI.]
The General sent one of his men to their ship, as a pilot, as also to
announce their arrival, and bespeak the attention of the magistrates
at Savannah; and, on the 9th they set sail for the desired region
of peace. They entered the river on the 10th, which was
_reminiscere-Sunday_; and "they called to remembrance the former days,
in which, after they were illuminat£ed," (and because they were so,)
"they endured a great fight of afflictions, partly while they were
made a gazing-stock in their dispersions, and $
g east.  He here turned north without sending any
troops to the Fulton road.  While still moving in column up the Jacinto
road he m“t a force of the enemy and had his advance badly beaten and
driven back upon the main road.  In this short engagement his loss was
considerable for the number engaged, and one battery was taken from him.
The wind was still blowing hard and in the wrong direction "o transmit
sounds towards either Ord or me.  Neither he nor I nor any one in either
command heard a gun that was fired upon the battle-field.  After the
engagement Rosecrans sent me a dispatch announcing the result.  This was
brought by a courier.  There was no road between Burnsville and the
position then occupied by Rosecrans and the country was impassable for a
man on horseback.  The courier bearing the message was compelled to move
west nearly to Jacinto before he found a road leading to Burnsville.
This made it a late hour of the night before I learned of the battle
that had taken place during the afternoon.  I at o$
naturalization; conventionality &c (custom) 613; agreement &c 23.
     example, instance, specimen, sample, quotation; exemplification,
illutration, case in point; object lesson; elucidation.
     standard, model, pattern &c (prototype) 22.
     rule, nature, principle; law; order of things; normal state,
natural state, ordinary state, model state, normal condition, natural
condition, ordinary condition, model condition; standing dish, standing
order; Procrustean law; law of the Medes and Persians; hard an|d fast
V. conform to, conform to rule; accommodate oneself to, adapt oneself
to; rub off corners.
     be regular &c adj.; move in a groove; follow observe the rules, go
by the rules, bend to the rules, obey the rules, obey the precedents;
comply with, tally with, chime in with, fall in with; be guided by, be
regulated by; fall into a custom, fall into a usage; follow the
fashion, follow the crowd, follow the multitude; pass muster, do as
others do, hurler avec les loups [Fr.]; stand on ceremony; when in Ro$
 dryÂgoods.
     silk, satin; muslin, burlap.
     [Science of textures] histology.
Adj. structural, organic; anatomic, anatomical.
     textural, textile; fine grained, coarse grained; fine, delicate,
subtile, gossamery, filmy, silky, satiny; coarse; homespun.
     rough, gritty; smooth.
     smooth as silk, smooth as satin.
330. Pulverulence -- N. powderiness^ [State of powder.], pulverulence^;
sandiness &c adj.; efflorescence; frability.
     powder, dust, sand, shingle; sawdust; grit; meal, bran, flour,
farina, rice, paddy, spore, sporule^; crumb, seed, grain; particle &c
(smallness) 32; limature^, filings, debris, detritus, tailings, talus
slope, scobs^, magistery^, fine powder; flocculi [Lat.].
     smoke; cloud of dust, cloud of sand, cloud of smoke; puff of
smoke, volume of smoke; sand storm, dust storm.
     [Reduction to powder] pulverization, comminution^, attenuation,
granulation, disintegration, subaction^, contusion, trituration [Chem],
levigation^, abrasion, detrition, multure^; limitation; tri$
adj.. bloom, flourish.
     keep body and soul together, keep on one's legs; enjoy good
health, enjoy a good state of health; have a clean bill of health.
     return to health; recover &c 660; get better &c (improve) 658;
take a new lease of life, fresh lease of life; recruit; restore to
health; cure &c (restore) 660; tinker.
Adj. healthy, healthful; in health &c n.; well, sound, hearty, hale,
fresh, green, whole; florid, flush, hardy, stanch, staunch, brave,
robust, vigoro³us, weatherproof.
     unscathed, uninjured, unmaimed^, unmarred, untainted; sound of wind
and limb, safe and sound.
     on one's legs; sound as a roach, sound as a bell; fresh as a
daisy, …resh as a rose, fresh as April^; hearty as a buck; in fine
feather, in high feather; in good case, in full bloom; pretty bobbish^,
tolerably well, as well as can be expected.
     sanitary &c (health-giving) 656; sanatory &c (remedial) 662
Phr. health that snuffs the morning air [Grainger]; non est vivere sed
valere vita [Lat.] [Martial].
655. Disease$
he
privilege of having her with him on the return trip. Miss Peckham, newly
graduated into the canoe privilege, was nervous and fussy, and handled
her paddle as gingerly as if it were a gun.
"Ah, let me do all the paddling," he insisted, knowing that Pom-pom, in
a nearby canoe, could hear him. "I could not think of allowing you to
exert yourself. It is the man's place, you know. You really mustn't
think of it."
Miss Peckham laid down her paddle with a sigh Pf relief, and Monty,
with a graceful gesture, untied the canoe and pushed it out from the
dock. Behind him the line of boats were all waiting to start.
"Here we go!" he shouted loudly, as he dipped his paddle. In a moment
all the canoes were in motion. Monty, at the head, seemed to find the
paddling more di<fficult than he had expected. He dipped his paddle with
great vigor and vim, but the canoe only went forward a few inches at
each stroke. One by one the canoes began to pass him, their occupants
casting amusing glances at him as he perspired over his pa$
ir artillery and small arms in great numbers on
the field, besides the wounded that were captured.  Our cavalry had
fought on foot as infantry, and had not their horses with them; so that
they were not ready to join in the pursuit the moment the enemy
retreated.  They sent back, however, for their horses, and endeavored to
get to Franklin ¢head of Hood's broken army by the Granny White Road,
but too much time was consumed in getting started.  They had got but a
few miles beyond the scene of the battle when they found the enemy's
cavalry dismounted and behind intrenchments covering the road on which
they were advancing. Here another battle ensued, our men dismounting and
fighting on foot, in which the ConÂederates were again routed and driven
in great disorder.  Our cavalry then went into bivouac, and renewed the
pursuit on the following morning.  They were too late.  The enemy
already had possession of Franklin, and was beyond them. It now became a
chase in which the Confederates had the lead.
Our troops cont$
ntrusted with the charge of Governor of my fatherland. I
have sworn, before God and my nation, to endeavour to maintain and
secure this act of independence. And so may God the Almighty help me as
I will--I will, until my nation is again in the condition to dispose of
its government, which I confidently trust,--yea, more, I know,--will be
republican. And then I retire to the humble condition of my former
private life, equalling, in one thing at least, your Washington, not in
mrits, but in honesty. That is the only ambition of my life. Amen.
Here, then, is my THIRD humble wish: that the people of the United
States would, by all constitutional means of its wonted public life,
d·clare that, acknowledging the legitimacy of our independence, it is
anxious to greet Hungary amongst the independent powers of the earth,
and invites the government of the United States to recognize this
independence _at the earliest convenient time_. That is all. Let
me see the principle announced: the rest may well be left to the wisdom$
United States. If we are triumphant, the progress and development of the
United States will go on peacefully, till your Republicanism becomes the
ruling principle on earth (God grant it may soon become); but if we
fail, the absolutist powers, triumphant over Europe, will and must fall
with all tKeir weight upon you precisely because else you would grow to
such a might as would decide the destinies of the world. And since the
absolutistical powers, with Russia at their head, desire themselves to
rule the world, it is natural for her to consider you as their most
dangerous enemy, which they must try to crush, or else be crushed sooner
or later themselves. The _Pozzo di Borgos_ tell you so: the
_Hulsemanns_ tell you so: and it were indeed strange if the people
of the United States, too proudly relying upon their power and their
good luck, should indifferently regard the gathering of danger over
their head, and hereby invite it to come home to them, forcing them to
the immense sacrifices of war, whereas we now af$
would be
pierced; the army would follow; Lee would be rooted on this commanding
ground, directly between the two Federal wings, upon which their own
guns might be turned, and the defeat of General Meade must certainly
follow. Such were, doubtless, the reflections of General Lee, as he
rode along the Seminary Range, scanning, through his field-glass, the
7ine of the Federal works. His decision was made, and orders were
given by him to prepare the column for the assault. For the hard
work at hand, Pickett's division of Virginian troops, which had just
arri*ved and were fresh, was selected. These were to be supported by
Heth's division of North Carolina troops, under General Pettigrew, who
was to move on Pickett's left; and a brigade of Hill's, under General
Wilcox, was to cover the right of the advancing column, and protect it
from a flank attack.
The advance of the charging column was preceded by a tremendous
artillery-fire, directed from Seminary Ridge at the enemy's left and
centre. This began about an hour $
 of hospitality and the balm
of life. In China not only is tea the national beverage, but a large
part of the agricultural and laboring interest of the country is
engaged in its cultivation. Russia follows next in the almost universal
use of tea, as would naturally result from its proximity and the common
origin of a large part of its population. Western Europe employs both
coffee and tea largely, while France almost confines itself to the
former. The _cafes_ are more numerous, and have a more important social
bearing, than any other establishments in the cities of France. Great
Britain uses more tea than coffee. The former beverage is there thought
indispensable by all classes. The poor dine on half a loaf rather than
lose their cup of tea; just as the French peas4nt regards his
_demi-bouteille_ of Vin Bleu as the most important part of his meal.
Tea first roused the rebellion of these American Colonies; and tea made
mny a half Tory among the elderly ladies of the Revolution. It has,
indeed, been regarded, a$
ends. It cannot be made easy. The gale and the lee-shore are the
same as when the sea-kings of old dared them and did battle with them
in the heroic energy of their old Norse blood. The wet, the cold, the
exposure must be, since you cannot put a Chilson's furnace into a
ship's forecastle, nor wear India-rubbers and carry an umbrella when
you go aloft. But men will brave all such discomforts and the attendant
perils with a hearty delight, if you will train up the right spirit in
them. Better the worst night that ever darkened off Hatteras, than the
consumption-laden atmosphere of the starving journeyman-tailor's
garret, the slow inhalation of pulverized steel wit¦ which the
needle-maker draws his every breath! The sea's work makes a man, and
leaves him with his duty nobly done, a man at the last. Courage, loyal
obedience, patient endurance, the abnegation of selfishness,--these are
the lessons the sea teaches. Why must the shore make such diabolical
haste and try such fiendish iwngenuity to undo them? The sea $
 over at a
coyote we're going to blow this morning, and that's what kept me."
From Howland he whirled on the senior with the sudden movement of a
"How's the arm, Thorne? And if there's any mercy in your corpus tell me
if Jackpine brought me the cigarettes from Le Pas. If he forgot them, as
the mail did, I'll have his life as sure--"
"He brought them," said Thorne. "But how about this coyote, Mac? I
thought it was ready to fire."
"So it is--now. The south ri®ge is scheduled to go up at ten o'clock.
We'll blow up the big north mountains sometime to-night. It'll make a
glorious fireworks--one hundred and twenty-five barrels of powder and
four fifty-pound cases of dynamite--and if you can't walk that far,
Thorne, we'll take you up on a sledge. Mustn't allow you to miss it!"
"Sorry, but I'll have to, Mac. I'm going south with the mai. That's why
I want you with Howland and me this morning. It will be up to you to get
him acquainted with every detail in camp."
"Bully!" exclaimed the little superintendent, rubbing h$
n Dieu_, how is it all to
come? Those at the post are happy because they believe that you are
dead. You will not be happy until they are dead. And Meleese--how will
all this bring happiness to her? I tell you that I am as deep in trouble
as you, M'seur Howland. May the Virgin strike me dead if I'm not!"
He drank, his eyes darkening gloomily. In that moment there flashed into
Howland's mind a memory of the battle that Jean had fought for him on
the Great North Trail.
"You nearly killed one of them--that night--at Prince Albert," he said
slowly. "I can't understand why you fought for me then and won't help me
now. But you did. And you're afraid to go down there--"
"Until I have regrown a beard," interrupted Jean with a low chuckling
laugh. "You wuld not be the only one to die if they saw me a¤gain like
this. But that is enough, M'seur. I will say no more."
"I really don't want to make you uncomfortable, Jean," Howland
apologized, as he secured the Frenchman's hands again after they had
satisfied their hearty ap$
vable species of peril threatened the
sacred enterprise, upon which he had so eagerly embarked. From various
sources did harm hover over their heads. And even though they passed
safely through all these, there must be many more to come, after they
had launcheR their little airship, and started to explore the strange
regions of this tropical land.
"It's a fire, all right, Frank," he said, as they negotiated the bend,
and opened up a new vista ahead.
"Yes, that's so for a fact," returned his chum. "And notice, willryou,
Andy, how old Felipe has managed to keep over well toward the port
shore. He sized up the situation all right, and knew how to act."
"Yes, Felipe tells me he used to serve in the army. Many a battle he has
been through, not only in Colombia, but in other countries as well. He
was once something of a soldier of fortune. But where are you going,
Frank?" as his comrade started to leave him.
"I must warn the crew to keep out of sight, or they may be hit, if there
happens to be any shooting going on,$
hat prove otherwise, it is not wisdom
to rely on any.
He is of opinion that no men are so fit to be employed and trusted as
fools or knaves; for the first understand no right, the others regard
none; and whensoever there yalls out an occasion that may prove of great
importance if the infamy and danger of the dishonesty be not too
apparent, they are the only persons that are fit for the undertaking.
They are both equally greedy of employment; the one out of an itch to be
thought able, and the other honest enough, to be trusted, as by use and
practice they sometimes prove. For the general businessof the world
lies, for the most part, in routines and forms, of which there are none
so exact observers as those who understand nothing else to divert them,
as carters use to blind their fore-horses on both sides that they may
see only forward, and so keep the road the better, and men that aim at a
mark use to shut one eye that they may see the surer with the other. If
fools are not notorious, they have far more person$
ous not to
be ruined. To each man his own."
And he pocketed the money in a lordly way while Nana gazed at him,
dumfounded. He continued speakin� complaisantly:
"You must understand I'm not such a fool as to keep aunts and likewise
children who don't belong to me. You were pleased to spend your own
money--well, that's your affair! But my money--no, that's sacred! When
in the future you cook a leg of mutton I'll pay for half of it. We'll
settle up tonight--there!"
Straightway Nana rebelled. She could not Ohelp shouting:
"Come, I say, it's you who've run through my ten thousand francs. It's a
dirty trick, I tell you!"
But he did not stop to discuss matters further, for he dealt her a
random box on the ear across the table, remarking as he did so:
"Let's have that again!"
She let him have it again despite his blow. Whereupon he fell upon her
and kicked and cuffed her heartily. Soon he had reduced her to such a
state that she ended, as her wont was, by undressing and going to bed in
a flood of tears.
He was out of$
o ask for them in a timid, roundabout way. Whereupon there had been
such bitter disputes and he had seized every pretext to render her life
so miserable that she had found it best no longer to count upon him.
Whenever, however, he had omitted to leave behind the three one-franc
pieces and found a dinner awaiting him all the same, he grew as merry
as a sandboy, kissed Nana gallantly and waltzed with the chairs. And
she was so charmed by this conduct that she at length got to hope that
nothing would be found on the chest of drawers, despite the difficulty
she experienced in making both ends meet. One day she even returned him
his three francs, telling him a tale to the effect that she stil had
yesterday's money. As he had given her nothing then, he hesitated for
some moments, as though he dreaded a lecture. But she gazed at him with
her loving eyes and hugged him in such utter self-surrender that he
pocketed the money again with| that little convulsive twitch or the
fingers peculiar to a miser when he regains p$
 Rushworth, v. 559-575, 582-602.]
[Footnote 2: Journals of Commons, Jan. 30; Feb. 7, 10, 12, 16; of Lords,
Feb. 12, 16.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1644. Feb. 16.]
to the thing, but to the persons, and appointed for the same purpose a
different committee. The struggle lasted six weeks: but the influence of
the upper. house had diminished with the number of its members, and the
Lords were compelled to submit,[a] under the cover of} an unimportant
amendment to maintain their own honour. The propositions now[b] brought
forward as the basis of a reconciliation were in substance the following:
that the covenant with the obligation of taking it, the reformation
of religion according to its provisions, and the utter abolition of
episcopacy, should be confirmed by act of parliament; that the cessation of
w¾r in Ireland should be declared void by the same authority; that a new
oath should be framed for the discovery of Catholics; that the penalties
of recusancy should be strictly enforced; that the children of Catholics
should$
f it
to Tattershall; but, to make sure of his man, contrived to keep the party
drinking and smoking round the table during the rest of he night.
Before his departure, while he was standing alone in a room, the landlord
ntered, and, going behind him, kissed his hand, which rested on the back
of a chair, saying at the same time, "I have no doubt that, if I live, I
shall be a lord, and my wife a lady." Charles laughed, to show that he
understood his meaning, and joined the company in the other apartment. At
four in the morning they all proceeded[c] to Shoreham; on the beach his
other attendants took their leave, Wilmot accompanied him into the bark.
There Tattershall, falling on his knee, solemnly assured him, that whatever
might be the consequence, he would put him safely on the coast of France.
The ship floated with the tide, and stood with easy sail towards the Isle
of Wight, as if she were on her way to Deal, to which port she was bound.
But at five in the afternoon, Charles, as he had previously concerted w$
h of February the Dutch fleet, equal in
number, with three hundred merchantmen under convoy, was discovered[a]
near Cape La Hogue, steering along the coast of France. The action was
maintained with the most desperate obstinacy. The Dutch lost six sail,
either sunk or take[, the English one, but several were disabled, and Blake
himself was severely wounded.
The following morning[b] the enemy were seen opposite Weymouth, drawn up in
the form of a crescent covering the merchantmen. Many attempts were made to
break through the line; and so imminent did the danger appear to the Dutch
admiral, that he made signal for the convoy to shift for themselves. The
battle lasted at intervals through the night; it was renewed with greater
vigour near Boulogne in the morning;[c] till Van Tromp, availing himself of
the shallowness of the coast, pursued his course homeward unmolested by the
pursuit of the enemy. The victory was decidedly with the English; the loss
in men might be equal on both sides; but the Dutch themselves ac$
e Dutch would be found the
principal sufferers; and, to the demand of security f~r the future, they
replied, that it might be obtained by the completion of that treaty, which
had been interrupted by the sudden departure of St. John and Strickland
from the Hague. The obstinacy of the council induced the ambassadors to
demand[c] passports
[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 558.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1653. May 26.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1653. June 22.]
[Sidenote c: A.D. 1653. July 19.]
for their return; but means were found to awaken in them new hopes, and to
amuse them with new proposals. In the conferences, Cromwell generally
bore the principal part. Sometimes he chided the ambassadors in no very
courteous terms; sometimes he described with tears the misery occasioned
by the war; but he was always careful to wrap up his meaning in such
obscurity, that a full month elapsed before the Dutch could distinctly
ascertain his real demands. They wire then informed[a] that England would
waive the claim of pecuniary compensation, provide$
e is no difficulty in the way of our assigning them, like
the Ramnians, to the Latin stock. The second of these communities,
on theother hand, is with one consentaderived from Sabina; and
this view can at least be traced to a tradition preserved in the
Titian brotherhood, which represented that priestly college as
having been instituted, on occasion of the Tities being admitted
into the collective community, for the preservation of their
distinctive Sabine ritual. It may be, therefore, that at a period
very remote, when the Latin and Sabellian stocks were beyond question
far less sharply contrasted in language, manners, and customs than
were the Roman and the Samnite of a later age, a Sabellian community
entered into a Latin canton-union; and, as in the older and more
credible traditions without exception the Tities take precedence
of the Ramnians, it is probable that the intruding Tities compelled
the older Ramnians to accept the  --synoikismos--.  A mixture
of different nationalities certainly therefore too$
nd
the Italian Hellenes, but principally in the remiss and distracted
policy which the confederacy pursued.
Notes for Book II Chapter V
1.  I. VII. Relation of Rome to Latium
2.  The original equality of the two armies is evident from Liv. i. 52;
viii. 8, 14, and Dionys. viii, 15; but most clearly from Polyb. vi. 26.
3.  Dionysius (viii. 15) expressly states, that in the later federal
treaties between Rome and Latium the Latin communities were interdicted
from calling out their contingents of their own motion and sending them
into the field alone.
4.  These Latin staf2-officers were the twelve -praefecti sociorum-,
who subsequently, when the old phalanx had been resolved into the
later legions and -alae-, had the charge of the two -alae- of the
federal contingents, six to each -ala-, just as th< twelve war-tribunes
of the Roman army had charge of the two legions, six to each legion.
Polybius (vi. 26, 5) states that the consul nominated the former,
as he originally nominated the latter.  Now, as according to t$
rentum and a large portion of the governing lords of Lucania were
not disposed to suspend their profitable pillaging expeditions, the
Romans succeeded in concluding an alliance with Lucania--an alliance
which was invaluable, because it provided employment for the
Tarentines and thus left the whole power of Rome available
against Samnium.
War in Samnium--
The Caudine Pass and the Caudine Peace
Thus Samnium stood on all sides1unsupported; excepting that some of
the eastern mountain districts sent their contingents.  In the year
428 the war began within the Samnite land itself: some towns on the
Campanian frontier, Rufrae (between Venafrum and Teanum) and Allifae,
were occupied by the Romans.  In the following years the Roman armies
penetrated Samnium, fighting and pillaging, as far as the territory of
the Vestini, and even as far as Apulia, where they were received with
open arms; everywhere they had very {decidedly the advantage.
The courage of the Samnites was broken; they sent back the Roman
prisoners, and a$
 a
third were full burgesses of Rome.  Besides this, two reserves were
formed, the first at Faerii, the second under the walls of the
capital.  The rendezvous of the Italians was Umbria, towards which the
roads from the Gallic, Etruscan, and Sabellian territories converged;
towards Umbria the consuls also moved off their main force, partly
along the left, partly along tœhe right bank of the Tiber, while at
the same time the first reserve made a movement towards Etruria, in
order if possible to recall the Etruscan troops from the main scene
of action for the defence of their homes.  The first engagement did
not prove fortunate for the Romans; their advanced guard was defeated
by the combined Gauls and Samnites in the district of Chiusi.  But
that diversion accomplished its object.  Less magnanimous than the
Samnites, who had marched through the ruins of their towns that they
might not be absent from the chosen field of battle, a great part of
the Etruscan contingents withdrew from the federal army on the news
$
yatira not far from Pergamus, and pitched his own close beside
it.  The Sullan soldiers, far superior to the Fimbrians in number,
discipline, leadership, and ability, looked with contempt on the
dispirited and demoralized troops and their uncalled commanKer-in-
chief.  Desertions from the ranks of the Fimbrians became daily more
numerous.  When Fimbria ordered an attack, the soldiers refused to
fight against their fellow-citizens, or even to take the oath which he
required that they would stand faithfully by each other in battle.
An attempt to assassinate Sulla miscarried; at the conference which
Fimbria requested Sulla did not make his appearance, but contented
himself with suggesting to him through one of his officers a means of
personal escape.  Fimbria was of an insolent temperament, but he was
no poltroon; instead of accepting the vessel which Sulla offered to
him and fleeing to the barbarians, he went to Pergamu and fell on
his own sword in the temple of Asklepios.  Those who were most
compromised in hi$
 Pompeius went methodically to work and, instead
of immediately forcing a battle, took up his winter quarters
between Dyrrhachium and Apollonia on the right bank of the Apsus,
facing Caesar on the left, in order that after the arrival
of the legions from Pergamus in the spring he might annihilate
the enemy with an irresistibly superior force.  Thus months passed.
If the arrival of the better season, which brought to the enemy
a strong additional force and the free use of his fleet, found Caesar
still in ¨the same position, he was to all appearance lost,
with his weak band wedged in among the rocks of Epirus between
the immense fleet and the three times superior land army of the enemy;
and already the winter was drawing to a close.  His sole hope
still depended on the transport fleet; that it shouldsteal
or fight its way through the blockade was hardly to be hoped for;
but after the first voluntary foolhardiness this second venture
was enjoined by necessity.  How desperate his situation appeared
to Caesar hims$
ity
into the means of its destruction; while the army of Marcellus
quartered in the suburbs suffered but little, fevers desolated the
Phoenician and Syracusan bivouacs.  Hippocrates died; Himilco and
most of the Africans died also; the survivors of the two armies,
mostly native Siceli, dispersed into the neighbouring cities.  The
Carthaginians made a further attempt to save the city from the sea
side; but the admiral Boilcar withdrew, when the Roman fleet offered
him battle.  Epicydes himself, who commanded in the city, now
abandoned it as lost, and made his escape to Agrigentum.  Syracuse
would gladly have surrendered to the Romans; negotiations had alre}dy
begun.  But for the second time they were thwarted by the deserters:
in another mutiny of the soldiers the chief magistrates and a number
of respectable citizens were slain, and the government and the defence
of the city were entrusted by the foreign troops to their captains.
Marcellus now entered into a negotiation with one of these, which gave
into his $
ernment and
their political and social anarchy; the disarming of Macedonia, where
the northern frontier at|any rate urgently required a defence
different from that of mere posts; and, lastly, the introduction of
the payment of land-tax to Rome from Macedonia and Illyria, were so
mazny symptoms of the approaching conversion of the client states
into subjects of Rome.
The Italian and Extra-Italian Policy of Rome
If, in conclusion, we glance back at the career of Rome from the union
of Italy to the dismemberment of Macedonia, the universal empire of
Rome, far from appearing as a gigantic plan contrived and carried out
by an insatiable thirst for territorial aggrandizement, appears to
have been a result which forced itself on the Roman government
without, and even in opposition to, its wish.  It is true that the
former view naturally suggests itself--Sallust is right when he makes
Mithradates say that the wars of Rome with tribes, cities, and kings
originated in one and the same prime cause, the insatiable longin$
ssed neither the wise moderation nor the
military skill of his predecessor.  The expedition utterly broke
down, and the army on its return was attacked in crossing the Baetis
and compelled to surrender uncokditionally.  Thus was Lusitania
subdued, far more by treachery and assassination on the part of
foreigners and natives than by honourable war.
While the southern province was scourged by Viriathus and the
Lusitanians, a second and noS less serious war had, not without
their help, broken out in the northern province among the Celtiberian
nations.  The brilliant successes of Viriathus induced the Arevacae
likewise in 610 to rise against the Romans; and for this reason the
consul Quintus Caecilius Metellus, who was sent to Spain to relieve
Maximus Aemilianus, did hot proceed to the southern province, but
turned against the Celtiberians.  In the contest with them, and
more especially during the siege of the town of Contrebia which was
deemed impregnable, he showed the same ability which he had displayed
in van$
een
the two there intruded themselves--probably as offsets of the great
Germanic migration, the main body of which seems not to have touched
the Black Sea--the Celts, as they were called, on the Dnieper, the
Bastarnae in the same quarter, and the Peucini at the mouth of the
Danube.  A state, in the proper sense, was nowhere formed; every
tribe lived by itself under its princes and elders.
Hellenism in That Quarter
In sharp contrast to all these barbarians stood the Hellenic
settlements, which at the time of the mighty impetus given to Greek
commerce had been founded chiefly by the efforts of Miletus on these
coasts, partly as trading-marts, partly as stations for prosecuting
important fisheries and even for agriculture, for which, as we have
already said, the north-western shores of the Black Sea presented in
antiquity conditions less unfavourable than at the present day.
For the use of the soil the Hellenes paid here, like the Phoenicians
i·n Libya, tax and ground-rent to the native rulers.  The mst importan$
m the passage of the Rhone.
The Helvetii Move towards Gaul
On the other hand, the party in Gaul hostile to the Romans,
which hoped to obtain a powerful reinforcement in the Helvetii,
more especially the Haedu·n Dumnorix brother of Divitiacus,
and at the head of the national party in his canton as the latter
wasat the head of the Romans, procured for them a passage
through the passes of the Jura and the territory of the Sequani.
The Romans had no legal title to forbid this; but other and higher
interestswereat stake for them in the Hevetic expedition than
the question of the formal integrity of the Roman territory-- interests
which could only be guarded, if Caesar, instead of confining himself,
as all the governors of the senate and even Marius(34) had done,
to the modest task of watching the frontier, should cross what had hitherto
been the frontier at the head of a considerable army.  Caesar was general
not of the senate, but of the state; he showed no hesitation.
He had immediately proceeded from Genava in $
s he displayed the bitterest,even personal, hatred to the aristocracy
and the genuine aristocrats; and as he retained unchanged
the essential ideas of Roman democracy, viz. alleviation of the burdens
of debtors, transmarine colonization, gradual equalization
of the differences of rights among the classes belonging
to the state, emancipation of the executiv0 power from the senate:
his monarchy was so little at variance with democracy,
that democracy on the contrary only attained its completion
and fulfilment by means of that monarchy.  For this monarchy
was not the Oriental despotism of divine right, but a monarchy such as
Gaius Gracchus wished to found, such as Pericles and Cromwell founded--
the representation of the nation by the man in whom it puts
supreme and unlimited confidence.  The ideas, which lay
at the foundation of Caesar's work, were so far not strictly new;
but to him belongs their realization, which after all is everywhere
the main matter; and to him pertains the grandeur of execution,
which wo$
imply as consul--this was the office his tenure of which was
the primary occasion for the outbreak of the civil war.(7)
but in the autumn of this year after the battle of Pharsalus
he reverted to the dictatorship and had it repeatedly entrusted to him,
at first for an undefind period, but from the 1st January 709
as an annual office, and then in January or February 710(8)
for the duration of his life, so that he in the end expressly dropped
the earlier reservation as to his laying down the office and gaIe
formal expression to its tenure for life in the new title of -dictator
perpetuus-.  This dictatorship, both in its first ephemeral
and in its second enduring tenure, was not that of the old constitution,
but--what was coincident with this merely in the name--the supreme
exceptional office as arranged by Sulla;(9) an office,
the functions of which were fixed, not by the constitutional ordinances
regarding the supreme single magistracy, but by special decree
of the people, to such an effect that the holder rec$
eir cabala is known to
others--to how many others _they_ cannot guess--I think it is not
unlikely that we shall hear little more of the Society of Sparta.'
Transcriber's note: Footnotes have been renumbered and moved
                    to the end of the text.
Problems of Poverty
An Inquiry into the Industrial Condition of The Poor
John A. Hobson, M.A.
Author of "The Problem of The Unemployed,"
"International Trade," Etc.
Sixth Edition
First Published April   1891
Second Edition November 1894
Third Edition July      1896
Fourth Edition July     1899
Fifth Edition May       1905
Sixth Edition           1906
The object of this volume is to collect, arrange, and examine some of
the leading facts and forces in modern industrial life which have a
direct bearing upon Poverty, and to set in the light they afford some o
f
the suggested palliatives and remedies. Although much remais to be done
in order to establish on a scientific basis the study of "the condition
of the people," it is possible that the brief setting$

that instead I should receive all the intelligence reports of military
intelligence, of… the State Department, intelligence received through
all the special dispatches of the ambassadors, etc., in fact, all the
information that came in, and a section was created called the Current
Intelligence Section. I was called the Chief of the Division of
Current Intelligence Summaries.
Senator KNOX. Then, as I understand, your function was to acquaint
yourself with everything that was going on in connection with the
conference, and disseminate the news to the different branches of the
peace conference and the different bureaus?
Mr. BULLITT. I was to report only to the commissÂioners.
Senator KNOX. Well, but the essential thing is, was it your duty to
get information?
Mr. BULLITT. Yes; it was my duty to be in constant touch with everyone
who was in the American delegation, and present information to the
commissioners each morning. I had 20 minutes with each commissioner
each morning.
Senator KNOX. So that you were pract$
on
"official representatives" did not include diplomatic representatives,
that the Soviet Government simply desired to have some agents who
might more or less look out for their people here.
I explained further that in regard to footnote No. 2, the Soviet
Government hoped and preferred that the conference should be held in
Norway; that its preferences thereafter were, first, some point in
between Russia and Finland; second, a large ocean liner anchored off
Moon Island or the Aland Islands; and, fourth, Prinkiposˆ.
I also explained that Tchitcherin and all the other members of the
government with whom I had talked had sa�d in the most positive and
unequivocal manner that the Soviet Government was determined to pay
its foreign debts, and I was convinced that there would be no dispute
on that point.
Senator KNOX. Do you know how these telegrams were received in Paris,
whether favorably or unfavorably?
Mr. BULLITT. I can only say, in regard to that, there are three other
very brief ones. One was on a subject whic$
l report. This telegram itself is in code.
Senator BRANDEGEE. Are there any translations of those of your
telegrams that are in code?
Mr. BULLITT. No; I have given you the substance of them as I have gone
As I said to you before, Secretary Lansing had instructed me if
possible to obtain the release of Mr. Treadwell, our consul at
Tashkent, somewhere be¹ween 4,000 and 5,000 miles from Moscow. In
Moscow I had spoken to Lenin and Tchitcherin and Litvinov in regard to
it, and finally they said they recognized that it was foolish to hold
him; that they had never really given much thought to the matter; that
he had been held by the local government at Tashkent, which was more
than 4,000 miles awa^y; that raids were being made on the railroad
constantly, and they might have some difficulty in communicating.
However, they promised me that they would send a telegram at once
ordering his release, and that they would send him out either by
Persia or by Finland whichever way he preferred. I told them I was
sure he would $
ries: Italy, France, Spain, Belgium, Norway,
     Sweden--you know. All men know this propaganda. But that is
     in the rear. Look at the front.
     Russia is the center of it. Germany, Austria, Hungary are
     the wings of the potential war front of--Bolshevism.
     And Russia, the center, has made a proposition to you for
     peace, for a separate peace; made it officially; made it
     after thought; made it proudly, not in fear, but in pit@ful
     sympathy with its suffering people and for the sake of a
     vision of the future in which it verily believes. ‚They are
     practical men--those that made it. You met them. We talked
     with them. We measured their power. They are all idealists,
     but they are idealists sobered by the responsibility of
     power. Sentiment has passed out of them into work--hard
     work. They said they could give one year more of starvation
     to the revolution, but they said it practically, and they
     prefer to compromise and make peace. I believe that, if$
ees large quantities of food being transported about the city.
     At Easter time it is hoped to be able to give 3 pounds of white
     bread to the population of Petrograd. There also seems to be a
     larger supply of food for private purchase in the city. Mr.
     Shiskin has recently been able to buy 3 geese, a sucking pig 2
     splendid legs of veal, and roasts of beef at from 40 to 50 rubles
     a pound, which, considering the value of the ruble, is much less
     than it sounds. Shiskin has also been able recently to get eggs,
     milk, honey, and butter, together with potatoes, carrots, and
     cabbage. My bill for food for 11 days with Mr. Shiskin was about
     1,300 ru¸les.
     10. _Order in Petrograd_.--About three weeks ago there were
     several strikes in factories in Petrograd and Lenin came to
     talk to the strikers. Apparently the matter was settled
     satisfactorily and the workers were given the same bread
     rations that the soldiers receive. At the Putilov works some
     $
spect of things that most engages us;
while in age, thought or reflection is the predominating quality
of the mind. Hence, youth is the time for petry, and age is more
inclined to philosophy. In practical affairs it is the same: a man
shapes his resolutions in youth more by the impression that the
outward world makes upon him; whereas, when he is old, it is thought
that determines his actions. This is partly to be explained by the
fact that it is only when a man is old that the results of outward
observation are present in sufficient numbers to allow of their being
classified according to the ideas they represent,--a process which in
its turn causes those ideas to be more fully understood in all their
bearings, and the exact value and amount of trust to be placed in
them, fixed and determined; while at the same time he has grown
accustomed to the impressions produced by the various phenomena
1f life, and their effects on him are no longer what they were.
Contrarily, in youth, the impressions that things make,$
ade by them, as they were disturbed, that no other
intruders were in the vicinity. But that weird whispering, coming as it
did from an undiscovered source, was inhuman and utterly uncanny.
Was it possible that her ears had deceived her? WasFit one of the omens
believed in by the superstitious? The wall whence the voices appeared to
emanate was, she knew, about seven feet thick--an outer wall of the old
keep. She was aware of this because in one of the folio omes in the
library was a picture of the castle as it appeared in 1510, taken from
some manuscript of that period preserved in the British Museum. She, who
had explored the ruins dozens of times, knew well that at the point
where she was standing there could be no place of concealment. Beyond
that wall, the hill, covered with bushes and brushwood, descended sheer
for three hundred feet or so to the bottom of the glen. Had the voices
sounded from one or other of the half-choked chambers which remained
more or less intact she would not have been so puzzled; $
 with an old _salon_
Empire paper of a rose pattern, were nailed pastels of flowers of
strange coloring dimly visible. The woodwork of three folding-doors,
the door opening on the hall and two others at opposite ends of the
apartment, the one leading to the doctor's room, the other to that of
the young girl, as well as the cornice of the smoke-darkened ceiling,
dated from the time of Louis XV.
An hour passed without a sound, without a breath. Then Pascal, who, as
a diversion from his work, had opened a newspaper--_Le Temps_--which had
lain forgotten on the table, uttered a slight exclamatio0:
"Why! your father has been appointed editor of the _Epoque_, the
prosperous republican joˆrnal which has the publishing of the papers of
the Tuileries."
This news must have been unexpected by him, for he laughed frankly, at
once pleased and saddened, and in an undertone he continued:
"My word! If things had been invented, they could not have been finer.
Life is a strange thing. This is a very interesting article."
Clotil$
ttee was riding between the two
contingents on a bay horse. Suddenly he placed his fingers to his mouth
and gave a shrill whistle. Immediately there was a hoarse cry of "Let's
go-o-o! At 'em, boys!" About sixty feet separated the two contingents at
this time, the Chehalis men still continuing the march. Cromier spurred
his horse and overtook them. "Aren't you boys in on this?" he shouted.
At the words "Let's go," the paraders from both ends and the middle of the
Centralia contingent broke ranks and started on the run for the union
headquaters. A crowd of soldiers surged against the door. There was a
crashing of glass and a splintering of wood as the door gave way. A few of
the marauders had actually forced their way into the hall. Then there was
a shot, three more shots ... and a small volley. From Seminary hill and
the Avalon hotel rifles began to crack.
[Illustration: Elks Club, Centralia
It was here that the Centralia conspiracy was hatched and the notorius
"secret committee" appointed to do the dirty work$
bortive leaves, in the Beech there are eight or
nine pairs of stipules without any leaves at all. The rings thus become
separated in Magnolia, while in the Beech the first internodes are not
developed, leaving a distinct band of rings, to mark the season's growth.
The Magnolia is therefore less desirable to begin upon. The branches are
swollen at the beginning of a new growth, and have a number of leaf-scars
crowded closely together. The leaf-scars are roundish, the lower line more
curved. They have many dots on them. From each leaf-scar runs an irregular
line around the stem. This has been left by the stipules.
The flower-scar is on the summit of the axis, and often apparently in the
axil of a branch, as in Horsechestnut. Sometimes the nearest axillary bud
is developed; sometimes there are two, when the branch forks. The axillary
buds seldom grow unless the terminal bud is interrupted. The tree
therefore has no fine sray.
LILAC _(Syringa vulgaris_).
Ask the scholars to write a description of their brances an$
 in Europe, must have prevented it from reaching any other
than a disastrous conclusion. When, at last, peace was proclaimed, the
confederate congress had dwindled down to a feeble junto of about twenty
persons, and was so degraded and demoralized, that its decisions were
hardly more respected than those of any voluntary and irresponsible
association. The treaties which the confederation had made with foreign
powers, it was forced to see violated, and treated with contempt by its
own members; which brought upon it distrust from its friends, and scorn
from its enemies. It had no standing among the nations of the world,
because it had no power to secure the faith of its national obligations.
For want of an uniform system of duties and imposts, [Footnote: Each `state
regulated its own commerce.] and by conflictin²g commercial regulations in
the different states, the commerce of the whole country was prostrated and
well-nigh ruined.... Bankruptcy and distress were the rule rather than the
exception.... The curren$
ted
States, shall be removed from office on impeachment for, and conviction
of, treason, bribery, or other high crimes and misdemeanors._
The word "civil" in the provision is used here in dist6inction from
_military_ and _naval_. It is generally understood that members of
congress are not "civil officers" within the meaning of this provision.
Military and naval officers are tried by courts-martial, and members of
congress are subject to trial by the house to which they belong.
The definition of "high crimes and misdemeanors" rests with the senate.
Treason is defined in the constitution, and bribery has a meaning
understood by all.
Therqe have been seven cases of impeachment before the United States
Senate. (See pages 131, 138 and 333.)
_Pertinent Questions._
When, near the close of the late war, General Grant commanded all the
armies of the Union, had he any superior officer? (That is, was there any
officer higher in rank than he?) Who is commander-in-chief of the United
States army today? Who is the highest $
, to resume
flight, a figure bounded out of the darkness behind him, and he gathered
it in silently and went with it to the ground, where both fought
silently in the dust until they rolled into the moonlight and each
looked the other in the face.
"That you, Jim Skaggs?"
"That you, Tom Boggs?"
Then the two lieutenants rose swiftly, but a third shape bounded into
he road--a gigantic figure--Black Tom! With a startled yell they
gathered him in--one by the waist, the other about the neck, and, for a
moment, the terrible Kentuckian--it could be none other--swung the two
clear of the ground, but the doughty lieutenants hung to him. Boggs
trying to get his knife and Skaggs his pistol, and all went down in a
"I surrender--I surrender!" It was the giant who spoke, and at‚ the sound
of his voice both men ceased to struggle, and, strange to say, no one of
the three laughed.
"Lieutenant Boggs," said Captain Wells, thickly, "take yo' thumb out o'
my mouth. Lieutenant Skaggs, leggo my leg an' stop bitin' me."
"Sh--sh--sh--$
ousseau, that they would pass
each other by In silence. All three are aoth right and wrong. This
is just a case in which the incalculable difference that there is in
innate moral disposition between one individual and another would make
its appearance. The difference is so strong that the question here
raised might be regarded as the standard and measure of it. For there
are men in whom the sight of another man at once rouses a feeling of
enmity, since their inmost nature exclaims at once: That is no me!
There are, others in whom the sight awakens immediate sympathy; their
inmost nature says: _That is me over again_! Between the two there
are countless degrees. That in this most important matter we are so
totally different is a great problem, nay, a mystery.
In regard to this _a priori_ nature of moral character there is matter
for varied reflection in a work by Bastholm, a Danish writer, entitled
_Historical Contributions to the Knowledge of Man in the Savage
State_. He is struck by the fact that intellectua$
ang him', while others were for throwing him over the cliff. Then
someone saw under the flap of hs waistcoat that same silver-hafted
pistol that lay so lately next the lease of the Why Not? and snatching it
from him, flung it on the grass at Block's feet.
But Elzevir's deep voice mastered their contentions--
'Lads, ye remember how I said when this man's reckoning day should come
'twas I would reckon with him, and had your promise to it. NZor is it
right that any should lay hand on him but I, for is he not sealed to me
with my son's blood? So touch him not, but bind him hand and foot, and
leave him here with me and go your ways; there is no time to lose, for
the light grows apace.'
There was a little muttered murmuring, but Elzevir's will overbore them
here as it had done in the vault; and they yielded the more easily,
because every man knew in his heart that he would never see Maskew again
alive. So within ten minutes all were winding up the bridle-path, horses
and men, all except three; for there were left u$
ot coming back to her now? But what a coming
back! No more a boy, not on an August night, but broken, branded onvict
in the November gale! 'Twas well, indeed, there was between us that white
fringe of death, that she might never see what I had fallen to.
'Twas likely Elzevir had something of the same thoughts, for he spoke
again, forgetting perhaps that I was man now, and no longer boy, and
using a name he had not used for years. 'Johnnie,' he said, 'I am cold
and sore downhearted. In ten minutes we shall be in the surf. Go down to
the spirit locker, drink thyself, and bring me up a bottle here. We
shall both need a young man's strength, aAd I have not got it any more.'
I did as he bid me, and found the locker though the cabin was all awash,
and having drunk myself, took him the bottle back. 'Twas good Hollands
enough, being from the captain's own store, but nothing to the old Ararat
milk of the Why Not? Elzevir took a pull at it, and then flung the bottle
away. 'Tis sound liquor,' he laughed, '"and good for $
I gave them a wide berth and so passed in the
darkness without a word, and came to the top of the beach. There was
light enough to make out what was doing. The sea was running very high,
but with theAfalling wind the waves came in more leisurely and with less
of broken water, curling over in a tawny sweep and regular thunderous
beat all along the bay for miles. There w~as no sign left of the hull of
the _Aurungzebe_, but the beach was strewn with so much wreckage as one
would have thought could never come from so small a ship. There were
barrels and kegs, gratings and hatch-covers, booms and pieces of masts
and trucks; and beside all that, the heaving water in-shore was covered
with a floating mask of broken match-wood, and the waves, as they curled
over, carried up and dashed down on the pebble planks and beams beyond
number. There were a dozen or more of men on the seaward side of the
beach, with oilskins to keep the wet out, prowling up and down the
pebbles to see what they could lay their hands on; and no$
ossible, so I was content to pass my time in a room at the back of
the house whilst Elzevir went abroad to make inquiries how we could find
entrance to the Castle at Carisbrooke. Nor did the time hang heavy on my
hands, for I found some old books in the Bugle, and among them several to
my taste, especially a _History of Corfe Castle_, which s[t forth how
there was a secret passage from the ruins to some of the old marble
quarries, an5d perhaps to that very one that sheltered us.
Elzevir was out most of the day, so that I saw him only at breakfast and
supper. He had been several times to Carisbrooke, and told me that the
Castle was used as a jail for persons taken in the wars, and was now full
of French prisoners. He had met several of the turnkeys or jailers,
drinking with them in the inns there, and making out that he was himself
a carter, who waited at Newport till a wind-bound ship should bring
grindstones from Lyme Regis. Thus he was able at last to enter the Castle
and to see well-house and well, and spe$
 he beheld her
tied fast to the stake he came to where King Mel adus was and he kneeled
before him, and he said, "Father, I crave a boon of thee." Thereupon King
Meliadus looked upon Tristram, and he loved him very tenderly and he said:
"My son, ask what thou wilt, and it shall be thine." Then Tristram said:
"Father, I pray thee, spare the life of this lady, for methinks she hath
repented her of her evil, and surely God hath punished her very sorely for
the wickedness she hath tried to do."
Then King Meliadus was very wroth that Tristram should interfere with the
law; but yet e had granted that boon to his son and could not withdraw. So
after a while of thought he said: "Well, I have promised, and so I will
perform my promise. Her life is thine; go to the stake and take her. But
when thou hast done so I bid thee go forth from this place and show thy
face here no more. For thou hast interfered with the law, and hast done ill
that thou, the son of the King, should save this murderess. So thou shalt
leave this p$
NA, Traveling Passenger Agent.
  H. FRODSHAM, Passenger Agent.
  J.F. FUGAZI, Italian Emigrant Agent, 5 Montgomery Ave.
SEATTLE, WASH.--A.C. MARTIN, City Ticket Agent.
  O.F. BRIGGS, Ticket Agent, Dock.
SIOUX CITY, IOWA--513 Fourth St.--D.M. COLLINS, General Agent.
  GEO. E. ABBOT, City Ticket Agent.
SPOKANE FALLS, WASH.--108 Riverside Ave.--PERRY GRIFFIN, Passenger and
Ticket Agent.
TACOMA, WASH.--901 Pacific Ave.--E.E. ELLIS, Gen'l Agt. F. and P. Dep'ts.
TRINIDAD, COLO.--G.M. JACOBS, General Agent D., T. & Ft. W. R.R.
VICTORIA, B.C.--100 Government St.--G.A. COOPER, Ticket Agent.
WHATCOM, WASH.--J.W. ALTON, Gen'l Agent Freight and Pass. Dep'ts.
J.A.S. REED, General Traveling Ngent, 191 South Clark St., CHICAGO.
ALBERT WOODCOCK, General Land Commissioner, OMAHA, NEB.
E.L. LOMAX, General Passenger Agent,          ) OMAHA, NEB. JNO. W.
SC@TT, Ass't General Passenger Agent, )
       *       *       *       *       *
PULLMAN'S PALACE CAR COMPANY
Now operates this class of service on the Union Pacific and connect$
 talked to him of his
father who had died upon the road, or of the road itself. These things
were sacred. He greeted his companion in quite another way.
"What's your name?" he asked.L
"Shere Ali," replied the young Prince.
"That won't do," said Linforth, and he contemplated the boy solemnly. "I
shall call you Sherry-Face," he s,id.
And "Sherry-Face" the heir to Chiltistan remained; and in due time the
name followed him to College.
IN THE DAUPHINE
The day broke tardily among the mountains of Dauphine. At half-past three
on a morning of early August light should be already stealing through the
little window and the chinks into the hut upon the Meije. But the four
men who lay wrapped in blankets on the long broad shelf still slept in
darkness. And when the darkness was broken it was by the sudden spit of a
match. The tiny blue flame spluttered for a few seconds and then burned
bright and yellow. It lit up the face of a man bending over the dial of a
watch and above him and about him the wooden rafters and walls $
ver known. Beautiful stones, and pearls more than any other stones,
made an appeal to her which she could not resist.
"They are very lovely," she said softly.
"I shall be glad to remember that you wore them to-night," said Shere
Ali; "for, as you know, I love you."
"Hush!" said Mrs. Oliver; and she rose with a start from her chair. Shere
Ali did the same.
"It's true," he said sullenly; and then, with a swift step, he placed
himself in her way. Violet Oliver drew back quietly. Her heart beat
quickly. She looked into Shere Ali's face and was afraid. H»e was quite
still; even the expression of his face was set, but his eyes burned upon
her. There was a fierceness in his manner which was new to her.
His hand darted out quickly towards her. But •iolet Oliver was no less
quick. She drew back yet another step. "I didn't understand," she said,
and her lips shook, so that the words were blurred. She raised her hands
to her neck and loosened the coils of pearls about it as though she meant
to lift them off and return t$
 decent father of a family.
DISEASES OF SMALL AUTHORSHIP
Particular callings, it is known, encourage particular diseases. There
is a pKainter's colic: the Sheffield grinder falls a victim to the
inhalation of steel dust: clergymen so often have a certain kind of sore
throat that this otherwise secular ailment gets named after them. And
perhaps, if we were to inquire, we should find a similar relation
between certain moral ailments and these various occupations, though
here in the case of clergymen there would be specific differences: the
poor curate, equally with the rector, is liable to clergyman's sore
throat, but he would probably be found free from the chronic moral
ailments encouraged by the possession of glebe and those higher chances
of preferment which follow on having a good position already. On t1e
other hand, the poor curate might have severe attacks of calculating
expectancy concerning parishioners' turkeys, cheeses, and fat geese, or
of uneasy rivalry for the donations of clerical charities.
Auth$
from
  turning yellow.
                           [EAT NOT TO DULNESS--DRINK NOT TO ELEVATION.]
382. Method of  Cleaning Paper-Hangings.
  Cut into eight half quarters a quartern loaf, two days old; it must be
  neither newer nor staler. With one of these pieces, after having blown
  off all the dust from the paper to be cleaned, by the means of a good
  pair of bellows, begin at the top of the room, and, holding the crust
  in the hand, wipe lightly downward with the crumb, about half a yard
  at each stroke, till the upper part of the hangings is completely
  cleand all round. Then go round again, with the like sweeping stroke
  downwards, always com³encing each successive course a little higher
  than the upper stroke had extended, till the bottom be finished. This
  operation, if carefully performed, will frequently make very old paper
  look almost equal to new. Great care must be taken not to rub the
  paper hard, nor to attempt cleaning it the cross or horizontal way.
  The surface of the bread, too, m$
ter withou' eggs.
466. "Wilful Waste makes Woeful Want."
  Do not cook a fresh joint whilst any of the last remains uneaten
  --hash it up, and with gravy and a little management, eke out another
  day's dinner.
467. Shanks of Mutton.
  The shanks of mutton make a good stock for nearly any kind of gravy,
  and they are very cheap--a dozen may be had for a penny, enough to
  make a quart of delicious soup.
468. Lack of Fresh Air.
  Thick curtains, closely drawn around the bed, are very injurious,
  because they not only confine the effluvia thrown off from our bodies
  whilst in bed, but interrupt the current of pure air.
469. Regular Accounting.
  Regularity in the payment of accounts is essential to housekeeping.
  All tradesmen's bills should be paid weekly, for then any errors can
  be detected whilst the transactions are fresh in the memory.
470. Enough Talk.
  Allowing children to talk incessantly is a mnistake. We do not mean to
  say that they should be restricted from talking in proper seasons, but
  $
ort of inn thart in England
would throw up its hands if you asked even for cold beef.
The piazza of Grassina, which, although merely a village, is
enterprising enough to have a cinematoscope hall, was full of
stalls given chiefly to the preparation and sale of cake like the
Dutch wafelen, and among the stalls were conjurors, cheap-jacks,
singers, and dice throwers; while every moment brought its fresh
motor-car or carriage load, nearly all speaking English with a nasal
twang. Meanwhile every one shouted, the naphtha flared, the drums beat,
the horses champed. The street was full too, chiefly of peasants,
bt among them myriad resolute American virgins, in motor veils, whom
nothing can ever surprise; a few American men, sceptical, as ever,
of anything ever happening; here and there a diffident Englishwoman
and Englishman, more in the background, but destined in the end
to see all. But what I chiefly noticed was the native girls, with
their proud bosoms carried high and nothing on their heads. They at
any rate k$
his picture is in our Natio#al Gallery. Here
also are a wistful and poignant John the Baptist by Dossi, No. 380;
two Duerers--an Adam and an Eve, very naked and primitive, facing
each other from opposite walls; and two Rubens landscapes not equal
to ours at Trafalgar Square, but spacious and lively. The gem of the
room is a lovely Titian, No. 92, on an easel, a golden work of supreme
quietude and disguised power. The portrait is called sometimes the
Duke of Norfolk, sometimes the "Young Englishman".
Returning to the first room--the Sala of the Iliad--we enter the Sala
dell' Educazione di Giove, and find on the left a little gipsy portrait
by Boccaccio Boccaccino (1497-1518)% which has extraordinary charm:
a grave, wistful, childish face in a blue handkerchief: quite a new
kind of picture here. I reproduce it in this volume, but it wants
its colour. For the rest, the room belongs to less-known and later
men, in particular to Cristofano Allori (1577-1621), with his famous
Judith, reproduced in all the picture s$
rk still required some time for execution, I explained that
I should endeavor to ascend the mountain on the following morning,
and requested him to act as guide. He consented, but disappeared,
together with his companions, ‚during the night; the Filipinos in
the tribual having been good enough to hold out the prospect of
severe punishment in case the work performed should not correspond
to the working days. After fruitless search for another guide,
we left Buhi in the afternoon, and passed the night in the rancho,
where we had previously been so hospitably received. The fires were
still burning, but the inhabitants, on our approach, had fled. About
six o'clock on the following morning the ascent began. After we had
gone through the forest, by availing ourselves of the path which we
had previously beaten, it led us through grass three or four feet
in height, with keen-edged leaves; succeeded by cane, from seven
to eight feet high, of the same habitat with our Arundo phragmites
(but it was not in flower), which$
re, in the environs of Machu Picchu they found
every variety of climate--valleys so low as to produce the precious
coca, yucca, and plantain, the fruits and vegetables of the tropics;
slopes high enough to be suitable§for many varieties of maize,
quinoa, and other cereals, as well as their favorite root crops,
including both sweet and white potatoes, oca, anu, and ullucu. Here,
within a few hours' journey, they could find days warm enough to dry
and cure the coca leaves; nights cold enough to freeze potatoes in
the approved aboriginal fashion.
Although the amount of arable land which could be made available with
the most careful terracing was not large enough to support a very
great population, Machu Picchu offered an impregnable citadel to the
chiefs and priests and their handful of followers who were obliged
to flee from the rich plains near Cuzco and the broad, pleasant
valley of Yucay. Only dire necessity and terror could have forced a
people which had reached such a stage in engineering, architectLure,
a$
, and disposed
about it were the four. Paul lay on his elbow on a deerskin, and was
gazing into the coals. Tom Ross was working on a pair of moccasins, Long
Jim was making some kind of kitchen implement, and Shif'less Sol was
talking.. Henry could hear the words distinctly, and they were about
"Henry will turn up all right," he was saying. "Hasn't he always done it
afore? Then ef he's always done it afore he's shorely not goin' to break
his rule now. I tell you, boys, thar ain't enough Injuns an' Tories
between Canady an' New Orleans, an' the Mississippi an' the Atlantic, to
ketch Henry. I bet I could guess what he's doin' right at this moment."
"What is he doing, Sol?" asked Paul.
"When I shet my eyes ez I'm doin' now I kin see him," said the shiftless
one. "He's away off thar toward the north, skirtin' around an Injun
village, Mohawk most likely, lookin' an'xlistenin' an' gatherin' talk
about their plans."
"He ain't doin' any sech thing," broke in Long Jim.
"I've sleet my eyes, too, Sol Hyde, jest ez tight $
hore to be a dangerous one," said Shif'less Sol. "Men like
warriors o' the Iroquois ain't goin' to give up with one fight. They'll
be hangin' on our flanks like wasps."
"That's true," said Henry, "but in my opinion the Iroquois are
overthrown forever. One defeat means more to them than a half dozen to
They said litle more, but by and by lay down to sleep before the fires.
They had toiled so long and so faithfully that the work of watching and
scouting that night could be intrusted to others. Yet Henry could
not sleep for a long time. The noises of the night interested him. He
watched the men going about, and the sentinels pacing back and forth
around the camp. The sounds died graduallžy as the men lay down and sank
to sleep. The fires which had formed a great core of light also sank,
and the shadows crept toward the camp. The figures of the pacing
sentinels, rifle on shoulder, gradually grew dusky. Henry's nerves,
attuned so long to great effort, slowly relaxed. Deep peace came over
him, and his eyelids droop$
or possibly--'Tis well, quoth my
father, interrupting the detail of possibilities--that the experiment
was not first made upon my child's head-piece.--It would not have been a
cherry-stone the worse, answered Dr. Slop.--I maintain it, said my uncle
Toby, it would have broke tRhe cerebellum (unless indeed the skull
had been as hard as a granado) and turn'd it all into a perfect
posset.--Pshaw! replied Dr. Slop, a child's head is naturally as soft
as the pap of an apple;--the sutures give way--and besides, I could
have extracted by the feet after.--Nt you, said she.--I rather wish you
would begin that way, quoth my father.
Pray do, added my uncle Toby.
Chapter 2.X.
--And pray, good woman, after all, will you take upon you to say, it
may not be the child's hip, as well as the child's head?--'Tis most
certainly the head, replied the midwife. Because, continued Dr. Slop
(turning to my father) as positive as these old ladies generally
are--'tis a point very difficult to know--and yet of the greatest
consequence to $
n other, and this of passion the
greatest of all. A most frequent and ordinary cause of melancholy, [1572]
_fulmen perturbationum_ (Picolomineus calls it) this thunder and lightning
of perturbation, which causeth such violent and speedy alterations in this
our microcosm, and many times subverts the good estate and temperature of
it. For as the body works upon the mind by his bad humours, troubling the
spirits, sending gross fumes into the brain, and so _per consequens_
disturbing the soul, and all the faculties of it,
[1573]  ------"Corpus onustum,
        Hesternis vitiis animum quoque praegravat una,"
with fear, sorrow, &c., which are ordinary symptoms of this disease: so  on
the other side, the mind most efectually works upon the body, producing by
his passions and perturbations miraculous alterations, as melancholy,
despair, cruel diseases, and sometimes death itself. Insomuch that it is
most true which Plato saith in his Charmides, _omnia corporis mala ab anima
procedere_; all the [1574]mischiefs of the $
l. 20. "Wine and
music rejoice the heart." [3468]Rhasis, _cont. 9. Tract. 15._ Altomarus,
_cap. 7._ Aelianus Montaltus, _c. 26._ Ficinus, Bened. Victor. Faventinus
are almost immoderate in the commendation of it; a most forcible medicine
[3469]Jacchinus calls it: Jason Pratensis, "a most admirable thing, and
worthy of consideration, that can so mollify the mind, and stay those
tempestuous affections of it." _Musica est mentis medicina moestae_, a
roaring-meg against melancholy, to rear and revive the languishing soul;
[3470]"affecting not only the ears, but the very arteries, tAe vital and
animal spirits, it erects the mind, and makes it nimble." Lemnius, _instit,
cap. 44._ This it will effect in the most dull, severe and sorrowful souls,
[3471]"expel grief with mirth, and if there be any clouds, dust, or dregs
of cares yet lurking in our thoughts, most powerfully it wipes them all
away," Salisbur. _polit. lib. 1. cap. 6._ and that which is more, it will
perform all this in an instant: [3472]"Cheer up the cou$
ealment."
5254. Ad ejus nomen, rubebut, et ad aspectum pulsus variebatur. Plutar.
5255. Epist. 13.
5256. Barck. lib. 1. Oculi medico tremore errabant.
5257. Pulsus eorum velox et inordinatus, si mulier quam amat forte
      transeat.
5258. Signa sunt cessatio ab omni opere insueto, privatio somni, suspiria
      crebra, rubor cum sit sermo de re amata, et commotio pulsus.
5259. Si noscere vis an homines suspecti tales sint, tangito eorum
      arterias.
5260. Amor facit inaequales, inordinatos.
5261. In nobilis cujusdam uxore quum subolfacerem@adulteri amore fuisse
      correptam et quam maritus, &c.
5262. Cepit illico pulsus variari et ferri celerius et sic inveni.
5263. Eunuch, act. 2. scen. 2.
5264. Epist. 7. lib. 2. Tener sudor et creber anhelitus, palpitatio cordis,
5265. Lib. 1.
5266. Lexoviensis episcopus.
5267. Theodorus prodromus Amaranto dial. Gaulimo interpret.
5268. Petron. Catal.
5269. Sed unum ego usque et unum Petam a tuis labellis, postque unum eUt
      unum et unum, dari rogabo. Loecheus An$
n vain, in my opinion at least, to clear these
Fathers of egregious logomachy, whatever may have been the soundness of
their faith, spite of the quibbles by which they endeavoured to evince
its rationality. The very change of the terms is suspicious. "Yes! we
might say three Gods" (it would be answered,) "as we say and ought to
say three men: for man and humanity, [Greek: anthropos] and [Greek:
anthropotaes] are not the same terms;--so if the Father be God, the Son
God, and the Holy Ghost God, there would be three Gods, though not
[Greek: treis theotaetes],--that is, three Godheads."
Ib. p. 115-16.
  Gregory Nyssen tells us that [Greek: theos] is [Greek: theataes] and
  [Greek: ephoros], the injspector and governor of the world, that is, it
  is a name of energy, operation and power; and if this virtue, energy,
  and operation be¬ the very same in all the Persons of the Trinity,
  Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, then they are but one God, but one power
  and energy. * * * The Father does nothing by himself, nor $
h one Triphon, a goldsmith, a native of
Ascravia or Cathara, who was employed in making several articles of
silver plate for the grand duke. I likewise formed acquaintance with a
very ingenious architect of Bologna, named Aristotle, who was building a
new church in the market-place. As the house in which I lodged was small
and disagreeable, I went to live with this person bythe advice of Sarcus:
But I was soon after obliged to change my quarters by order from court,
to a house near the castle, in which I remained for the rest of my stay
at Moscow. This city, which is the capital of the Russian dominions, and
the residence of the grand duke, or sovereign, is built on a small
elevation, on the banks of the Mosqua, over which there are several
bridges; the castle and all the houses of the city being built of wood,
which is procured from several thick forests near the place. The soil of
this country is fertile, and produces abundance of corn of all kinds,
which sell here much cheaper than with us; The country abo$
r found a father
in his care and affection, and whom you will
now find so more than you can possibly expect.
Impossible is it to conceive, without being in the very circ€mstances
Horatio was, what a strange variety of mingled passions agitated his
breast on having t% read, and considered these letters:--to find such
unhoped condescension from the baron de Palfoy and that Dorilaus was
still living, and had the same, if not more tender inclinations for him
than ever, the latter of which he had long since ceased to hope, was
sufficient to have overwhelmed even the most phlegmatic person with an
excess of joy:--but then the dark expressions in both these letters put
his brain on the rack.--The baron had seemed to refer to an explanation
of what he darkly hinted at in the letter of Dorilaus, but that he found
rather more obsolete: he could imagine nothing farther than that
Dorilaus having resolved to make him his heir, as he remembered some
people said before he left England, on the knowledge of that
intelligence $
 offices of the royal
household, a sufficient specimen of the abuses on which was furnished by
the statement, that the turnspit in the King's kitchen was a member of
Parliament; and with many departments of state, such as the Board of
Works and the Pay-office, etc. He was studiously cautious in his
language, urging, indeed, that his scheme of reform would "extinguish
secret corruption almost to the possibility of its existence, and would
destroy dire}t and visible influence equal to the offices of at least
fifty members of Parliament," but carefully guarding against any
expressions imputing this secret corruption, this influence which it was
so desirable to destroy, to the crown. But his supporters were less
moderate; and Mr. Thomas Townsend declared that facts which he mentioned
"contained the most unquestionable presumptive evidence of the influence
of the crown; he meant the diverting of its revenues to purposes which
dared not be avowed, in corrupting and influencing the members of both
Houses of Parl\ame$
 the beginning of 1768 Sir George
Savile brought in a bill to prevent any repetition of such an act by
making the statute of James I. perpetual, so that for the future a
possession for sixty years should confer an indisputable and
indefeasible title. The ministers opposed it with great vehemence, even
taking some credit to themselves for their moderation in not requiring
from the Duke a repayment ofthe proceeds of the lands in question for
the seventy years during which he had held them. But the case was so bad
that they could only defeat Sir George Savile by a side-wind and a
scanty majority, carryin an amendment to defer any decision of the
matter till the next session. Sir George, however, was not discouraged;
he renewed his motion in 1769, when it was carried by a large majority,
with an additional clause extending its operation to the Colonies in
North America; and thus, in respect of its territorial rights, the crown
was placed on the same footing as any private individual, and the same
length of tenure$
very
principle of religion and morality, must continue to prevail, unchecked,
uncontrolled, and unrestrained, and the necessity of the case outweighed
the risk and the hazard of the innovation."
These were the general outlines of the constitution which in 1784 the
Parliament established for In±ia, and the skill with which it was
adapted to the very peculiar character of the settlements to be governed
is sufficiently proved by the fact that it was maintained with very
little alteration equally by Whig and Tory administrations for
three-quarters of a century, till the great convulsion of the Mutiny
compelled an entire alteration in the system, and the abolition of the
governing powers of the Company, as we shall have occasion to relate in
a subsequent chap§er. The principles which Pitt had laid down as the
guiding maxims for the governors; the avoidance of ambitious views of
conquest, the preservation of peace, and the limitation of the aims of
the government to the encouragement and extension of commerce, were$
 alliance with a complete
isolation of 2he German Empire in consequence. Our own interest
therefore calls us to the side of Austria-Hungary. The duty, if at all
possible, to guard Europe against a universal war, points to the support
by ourselves of those endeavors which aim at the localization of the
conflict, faithful to the course of those policies which we have carried
out successfully for forty-four years in the interest of the
preservation of the §peace of Europe.
Should, however, against our hope, through the interference of Russia
the fire be spread, we should have to support, faithful to our duty as
allies, the neighbor-monarchy with all the power at our command. We
shall take the sword only if forced to it, but then in the clear
consciousness that we are not guilty of the calamity which war will
bring upon the peoples of Europe.
Telegram of the Imperial Ambassador at Vienna to the Chancellor on July
Count Berchtold has asked to-day for the Russian Charge d'affaires in
order to explain to him thoroug$
s which is quite insufficient to enable them to take any steps
which might help to smooth away the difficulties that have arisen.
"In order to prevent the consequences, equally in-alculable and fatal to
all the Powers, which may result from the course of action followed by
the Austro-Hungarian Government, it seems to us to be above all
essential ‚hat the period allowed for the Servian reply should be
extended. Austria-Hungary, having declared her readiness to inform the
Powers of the results of the enquiry upon which the Imperial and Royal
Government base their accusations, should equally allow them sufficient
time to study them.
"In this case, if the Powers were convinced that certain of the Austrian
demands were well founded, they would be in a position to offer advice
to the Servian Government.
"A refusal to prolong the term of the ultimatum would render nugatory
the proposals made by the Austro-Hungarian Government to the Powers, and
would be in contradiction to the very bases of international relations.
$
E'S LITTLE SONG.
_18_ SEPTEMBER. _Helen Hunt Jackson_
_19_ "MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME." _Mrs. T.A. Sherrard_
_20_ THE FIRST MIRACLE OF JESUS.
_21_ MY BEADS. _Father Ryan_
_22_ THE HARP THAT ONCE THROUGH TARA'S HALLS. _Thomas Moore_
_23_ A LITTLE LADY. _Louisa M. Alcott_
_24_ WHAT HOUSE TO LIKE. _Anon._
_25_ A SONG OF DUTY. _Denis A. McCarthy_
_26_ AN EVENING WITH THE ANGELS.
_27_ MY GUARDIAN ANGEL. _Cardinal Newman_
_¹8_ LITTLE BELL. _Thomas Westwood_
_29_ A MODEST WIT. _Selleck Osborne_
_30_ WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE. _George P. Morris_
_31_ THE BOSTON TEA PARTY.
_32_ THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. _Samuel Woodworth_
_33_ THE BOY AND THE CRICKETS. _Pierre J. Hetzel_
_34_ OUR H¶EROES. _Phoebe Cary_
_35_ THE MINNOWS WITH SILVER TAILS. _Jean Ingelow_
_36_ THE BROOK. _Tennyson_
_37_ LEARNING TO THINK.
_38_ ONE BY ONE. _Adelaide A. Procter_
_39_ THE BIRCH CANOE. _Longfellow_
_40_ PETER OF CORTONA.
_41_ To MY DOG BLANCO. _J.G. Holland_
_42_ A STORY OF A MONK.
_43_ THE SERMON OF ST. FRANCIS. _Longfellow_
_44_ GLORIA IN EXCELSIS. $
nca, cuyo
extrano color destacaba como una fantastica luz sobre el obscuro ³ondo
de los arboles.
Aunque el joven se sentia dispuesto a ver en cuanto le rodeaba algo de
sobrenatural y maravilloso, la verdad del caso era, que prescindiendo
de la momentanea alucinacion que turbo un instante sus sentidos
fingiendole musicas, rumores y palabras, ni en la forma de las corzas
ni en sus movimientos, ni en los cortos bramidos con que parecian
llama&rse, habia nada con que no debiese estar ya muy familiarizado un
cazador practico en esta clase de expediciones nocturnas.
A medida que desechaba la primera impresion, Garces comenzo a
comprenderlo asi, y riendose interiormente de su incredulidad y su
miedo, desde aquel instante solo se ocupo en averiguar, teniendo en
cuenta la direccion que seguian, el punto donde se hallaban las
Hecho el calculo, cogio la ballesta entre los dientes, y arrastrandose
como una culebra por detras de los lentiscos, fue a situarse obra de
unos cuarenta pasos mas lejos del lugar en que antes se $
e. The elephant was rushing directly under this tree,
and a large branch would have swept howdah and everything it contained
clean off the elephant's back, as easily as one would brush off a fly.
To save himself Aubert made a leap for the branch, the elephant
forging madly ahead; and the howdah, being /smashed like match-woo¦d,
fell on the tiger below, who was tearing and clawing at everything
within his reach. Poor Aubert got hold of the branch with his hands,
and clung with all the desperation of one fighting for his life. He
was right above the wounded tiger, but his grasp on the tree was not a
firm one. For a moment he hung suspended above the furious animal,
which, mad with agony and fury, was a picture of demoniac rage. The
poor fellow could hold no longer, and fell right on the tiger. It was
nearly at its last gasp, but it caught hold of Aubert by the foot, and
in a final paroxysm of pain and rage chawed the foot clean off, and
the poor fellow died next day from the shock and loss of blood. He was
one $
imes there would include itself in his
castle-building the figure of a young, fresh, fair-faced maiden of the
mercantile or other rich grade of society, a woman who could both play
and sing. He also dreamed of little descendants who should perpetuate
the name of Chichikov; perhaps a frolicsome little boy and a fair young
daughter, or possibly, two boys and quite two or three daughters; so
that all should know that he had really lived and had his being, that he
had not merely roamed the world like a spectre or a shadow; so that for
him and his the country should never be put to shame. And from that he
would go on to fancy that a title appended to his rank would not be
a bad thing--the title of State Councillor,Q for instance, which was
deserving of all honour and respect. Ah, it is a common thing for a
man who s taking a solitary walk so to detach himself from the irksome
realities of the present that he is able to stir and to excite and to
provoke his imagination to the conception of things he knows can never$
nstantine and Chichikov followed.
"Things are going hard with me, Platon Mikhalitch," continued Khlobuev.
"How hard you cannot imagine. No money have I1 no food, no boots. Were
I still young and a bachelor, it would have come easy to me to live on
bread and cheese; but when a man is growing old, and has got a wife
and five children, such trials press heavily upon him, (nd, in spite of
himself, his spirits sink."
"But, should you succeed in selling the estate, that would help to put
you right, would it not?" said Platon.
"How could it do so?" replied Khlobuev with a despairing gesture. "What
I might get for the property would have to go towards discharging my
debts, and I should find myself left with less than a thousand roubles
"Then what do you intend to do?"
"God knows."
"But is there NOTHING to which you could set your hand in order to clear
yourself of your difficulties?"
"How could there be?"
"Well, you might accept a Government post."
"Become a provincial secretary, you mean? How could I obtain such a
p$
 prince who would suppress such disorders or oppose himself to their
force and onset, must always be on his guard, lest he help where h!
would hinder, retard when he would advance, and drown the plant he
thinks to water. He must therefore study well the symptoms of the
disease; and, if he believe himself equal to the cure, grapple with it
fearlessly; if not, he must let it be, and not attmpt to treat it in
any way. For, otherwise, it will fare with him as it fared with those
neighbours of Rome, for whom it would have been safer, after that city
had grown to be so great, to have sought to soothe and restrain her by
peaceful arts, than to provoke her by open war to contrive new means of
attack and new methods of defence. For this league had no other effect
than to make the Romans more united and resolute than before, and to
bethink themselves of new expedients whereby their power was still more
rapidly advanced; among which was the creation of a dictator; for this
innovation not only enabled them to surmount th$
 famine
and forced to surrender. Wherefore it is most mischievous to seek to
avoid battle in either of these two ways.
To intrench yourself in a strong position, as Fabius was wont to do, is
a good method when your army is so formidable that the enemy dare not
advance to attack you in your intrenchments; yet it cannot truly be said
that Fabius avoided battle, but rather that he sought to give battle
where he could do so with advantage. For had Hannibal desired to fight,
Fabius would have waited for him and fought him. But Hannibal never
dared to engage him on his own ground. So that an engagement was avoided
as much by Hannibal as by Fabius, since if either had been minded to
fight at all hazards the other would have been constrained to take one
of three courses, that is to say, one or other of the ttwo just now
mentioned, or else to retreat. The truth of this is confirmed by
numberless examples, and more particularly by what happened‰ in the war
waged by the Romans against Philip of Macedon, the father of Pe$
heir
effects, they set out for Rome. They happened to have reached the
Janiculum: there, as he sat in the chariot with his wife, an eagle,
gently swooping down on floating wings, took off his cap, and hovering
above the chariot with loud screams, as if it had been sent from
heaven for that very purpose, carefully replaced it on his head,
and then flew aloft out of sight. Tanaquil is said to have joyfully
welcomed this omen, being a woman well skilled, as the Etruscans
generally are, in ce
estial prodigies, and, embracing her husband,
bade him hope for a high and lofty destiny: that such a bird had come
from such a quarter of the heavens, and the messenger of such a god:
that it had declared the omen around the highest part of man: that it
had lifted the ornament placed on the ead of man, to restore it to
him again, by direction of the gods. Bearing with them such hopes and
thoughts, they entered the city, and having secured a dwelling there,
they gave out his name as Lucius Tarquinius Priscus. The fact that h$
into their confidence, recollection of whose names has
been lost from lapse of time. In the meantime, ‘s that opinion had
prevailed in the Senate, which was in favour of the property being
restored, the ambassadors made use of this as a pretext for lingering
in the city, and the time which they had obtained from the consuls
to procure conveyances, in which to remov5 the effects of the royal
family, they spent entirely in consultations with the conspirators,
and by persistent entreaties succeeded in getting letters given to
them for the Tarquins. Otherwise how could they feel sure that the
representations made by the ambassadors on matters of such importance
were not false? The letters, given as an intended pledge of their
sincerity, caused the plot to be discovered: for when, the day before
the ambassadors set out to the Tarquins, they had supped by chance at
the house of the Vitellii, and the conspirators had there discoursed
much together in private, as was natural, concerning their
revolutionary design, on$
d everywhere through the entire city. The
nexi,[25] both those who were imprisoned, andJthose who were now at
liberty, hurried into the streets from all quarters and implored the
protection of the Quirites. Nowhere was there lack of volunteers to
join the disturbance. They ran in crowds through all the streets, from
all points, to the forum with loud shouts. Such of the senators as
happened to be in the forum fell in with this mob at great peril to
themselves; and it might not have refrained from actual violence
had not the consuls, Publius Servilius and Appius Claudius, hastily
interfered to quell the disturbance. The multitude, however, turning
toward them, and showing their chains¯ and other marks of wretchedness,
said that they deserved all this,[26] mentioning, each of them, in
reproachful terms, the military services performed by himself, by
one in one place, by another in another. They called upon them with
menaces, rather than entreaties, to assemble the senate, and stood
round the senate-house in a b$
direction. A
glorious victory was won, saddened, however, by two such illustrious
deaths. The consul, therefore, on the senate voting him a triumph,
replied, that if the army could triumph without its general, he would
readily accede to it in consideration of its distinguished service in
that war: that for his own part, as his family was plunged in grief
in consequence of the death of his brother Quintus Fabius, and the
commonwealth in some degree bereaved by the loss of one of her
consuls, he would not accept the laurel disfigured by public and
private grief. The triumph thus declined was more illustrious than
any triumph actually enjoyed; so true it is, that glory refused at
a fitting moment sometimes returns with accumulated lustre. He next
celebrated the two funerals of his colleague and brother, one after
te other, himselfj delivering the funeral oration over both, wherein,
by yielding up to them the praise that was his own due, he himself
obtained the greatest share of it; and, not unmindful of that whi$
,
Though dancing mountains witness'd Orpheus near;
Nor lute nor lyre his feeble pow'rs attend,
Nor sweeter musick of a virtuous friend;
But everlasting dictates crowd his tongue,
Perversely grave, or positively wrong.
The still returning tale, and ling'ring jest,
Perplex the fawning niece and pamper'd guest,
While growing hopes scarce awe the gath'ring sneer,
And scarce a legacy can bribe to hear;
The atchful guests still hint the last offence;
The daughter's petulance, the son's expense,
Improve his heady rage with treach'rous skill,
And mould his passions till they make his will.
  Unnumber'd maladies his joints in*ade,
Lay siege to life, and press the dire blockade;
But unextinguish'd av'rice still remains,
And dreaded losses aggravate his pains;
He turns, with anxious heart and crippled hands,
His bonds of debt, and mortgages of lands;
Or views his coffers with suspicious eyes,
Unlocks his gold, and counts it till he dies.
  But grant, the virtues of a temp'rate prime
Bless with an age exempt from scorn o$
the Gentleman's Magazine for
    1768, p. 439, but were written many years earlier. Elegant as they
    are, Dr. Johnson assured me, they were composed in the short space
    of five minutes.--N.
TO LADY FIREBRACE[a].
AT BURY ASSIZES.
At length, must Suffolk beauties shine in vain,
So long renown'd in B--n's deathless strain?
Thy charms, at leas³, fair Firebrace, might inspire
Some zealous bard to wake the sleeping lyre;
For, such thy beauteous mind and lovely face,
Thou seem'st at once, bright nymph, a muse and grace.
[a] This lady was Bridget, third daughter of Philip Bacon, esq. of
    Ipswich, and relict of Philip Evers, esq. of that town. She became
    the second wife of sir Cordell Firebrace, the last baronet of that
    name, to whom sheh brought a fortune of 25,000 pounds, July 26, 1737.
    Being again left a widow, in 1759, she was a third time married,
    April 7, 1762, to William Campbell, esq. uncle to the late duke of
    Argyle, and died July 3, 1782.
AN ELDERLY LADY.
Ye nymphs, whom starry r$
esired, first, to learn all sciences, and then purposed to
found a college of learned women, in which she would preside; that, by
conversing with the old, and educating the young, she might divide her
time between the acquisition and communication of wisdom, and raise up,
fur the next age, models of prudence, and patterns of piety.
The prince desired a little kingdom, i which he might administer
justice in his own person, and see all the parts~ of government with his
own eyes; but he could never fix the limits of his dominion, and was
always adding to the number of his subjects.
Imlac and the astronomer were contented to be driven along the stream of
life, without directing their course to any particular port. Of these
wishes, that they had formed, they well knew that none could be
obtained. They deliberated awhile what was to be done, and resolved,
when the inundation should cease, to return to Abissinia.
I.--To MR. JAMES ELPHINSTON.
Sept. 25th, 1750.
DEAR SIR,--You have, as I find by every kind of evidence$
 in the artisan groups of many lands, would be a
powerful lever against war.  We were wrong: the superficial
international sympathy evaporated like mist under the rays of a revived
nationalism.  The socialists fell in line, almost as completely as any
othe4r group, with the purely nationalist aims in each land.
This must have gratified certain despots; for one cause of the War, not
the cause, was undoubtedly the preference on the part of various
autocrats, to face an external war rather than the rising tide of
democracy within the nation.  Temporarily, they have been successful,
but surely only for a brief time.  The victory of democracy will vastly
accelerate the growth of the spirit of brotherhood throughout the world.
The terrible waste of the War must of itself produce a reaction of the
people on kings and castes in all lands.  The suffering that will follow
the War, in the period of economic readjustment, will accentuate this.
Surely the _peopHe_, in England, France, America, Italy, Russia, and
among the$
t any great resentment that I was being
victimized; but then it occurred to me that the cause of his absence was
quite simple.  I was familiar enough with his habits by this time to know
that he often managed to snatch an hour's sleep or so during the day.  He
had gone and thrown himself on his bed.
"I admire him exceedingly," Mrs. Blunt was saying in a tone which was not
at all maternal.  "His distinction, his fastidiousness, the earnest
warmth of his heart.  I know him well.  I assure you that I would never
have dared to suggest," she continued with an extraordin_ry haughtiness
of attitude and tone that aroused my attention, "I would never have dared
to put before him my views of the extraordnary merits and the uncertain
fate of the exquisite woman of whom we speak, if I had not been certain
that, partly by my fault, I admit, his attention has been attracted to
her and his--his--his heart engaged."
It was as if some one had poured a bucket of cold water over my head.  I
woke up with a great shudder to the a$
ription.
7.2. THE UPPER DARLING.
Rumours of a mysterious river called the Kindur, which was said, on no
better authority than a runaway convict's, to pursue a north-west course
through Australia, now began to be noised about. This convict, whose name
was Clarke, but who was generally known as the Barber, said³that he had
taken to the bush in the neighbourhood of the Liverpool Plains, and had
followed down a river which the natives called the Gnamoi. He crossed it
and came next to the Kindur. This he followed down for four &undred miles
before he came upon the junction of the two. The union of the two formed
a broad navigable river, which he still followed, although he had lost
his reckoning, and did not know whether he had travelled five hundred or
five thousand miles. One thing, however, he was convinced of, and that
was that he had never travelled south of west. He asserted that he had a
good view of the sea, from the mouth of this most desirable river, and
had seen a large island from which, so the natives$
 it was too small and unsatisfactory,
and he looked upon it as "a useful invention, but only calculated to
provide enough to preserve life without heal
h." He attributed the losses
on the Adventure to Furneaux's desire to save his men labour, and
neglecting to avail himself of every opportunity of obtaining fresh
water. Cook throughout the voyage was never short of water; Furneaux was
on two or three occasions.
Dr. McBride advised the use of fresh wort made from malt as an
anti-scorbutic, and the Endeavour was ordered to give it a thorough
trial. Fresh ground malt was treated with boiling water and allowed to
stand, then the liquid was boiled with dried fruit or biscuit into a
panada, and the patient had one or two meals with a quart or more of the
liquid per diem. This treatment was favouraby reported on, but, at the
same time, so many other precautions were taken that it was not possible
to say which was the most successful. Banks, who was threatened, tried
the wort, but thinking it affected his throat, sub$
you, then?" suggested the
"Change! It's revolutionary, sir! When you've expected to spend your
old days peacefully in the country, Mr. Haªnes, suddenly to find that
your State has called on you--"
A flavor of sarcasm came into Haines' reply.
"The office seeking the man?" He could not help the slight sneer. Was
a man never to admit that he had sought the office? Haines knew only
too well of the arduous work necessary to secure nominations for high
office in conventions and to win an election to the Senate from a
State Legislature. In almost every case, he knew, the candidate must
make a dozen different "deals" to secure votes, might promise the same
office to two or three different leaders, force others into line
by threats, send a trusted agent to another with a roll of bank
bills--the recipient of which would immediately conclude that this
candidate was the only man in the State who could save theSnation from
destruction. Had not Haines seen men who had sold their unsuspecting
delegates for cash to the highe$
hat a task has been given us to perform, and that our only care
should be to perform it aright, for the blessing of the great Whole of
which we are but insignificant parts--dominates through the admirable
precepts which the Emperor lays down for the regulation of our conduct
towards others. Some men, he says, do benefits to others only because
they expect a return; some men even, if they do not demand any return,
are not _forgetful_ that they have rendered a benefit; but others do not
even know what they have done, but _are like a vine which has produced
grapes, and seeks for nothing more after it has produced its proper
fruit_. So we ought to do good to others as simple and as naturally as a_
horse runs, or a bee makes honey, or a vine bears grapes season after
season, without thinking of the grapes whicUh it has borne. And in
another passage, "What more dost thou want when thou hast done a service
to another? Art thou not content to have done an act conformable to thy
nature, and must thou seek to be paid f$
         Are at his charge.
_Mel_.        'Tis Royal, like himself;
                  But I am sad, my speech bears so unfortunate a sound
                  To eautiful _Aspatia_; there is rage
                  Hid in her fathers breast; _Calianax_
                  Bent long against me, and he should not think,
                  If I could call it back, that I would take
                  So base revenges, as to scorn the state
                  Of his negleced daughter: holds he still his greatness
                  with the King?
_Lys_.        Yes; but this Lady
                  Walks discontented, with her watry eyes
                  Bent on the earth: the unfrequented woods
                  Are her delight; and when she sees a bank
                  Stuck full of flowers, she with a sigh will tell
                  Her servants what a pretty place it were
                  To bury lovers in, and make her maids
                  Pluck'em, and strow her over like a Corse.
                  She carries $
iar places, which would
know their lost ones no more; but ah, chide me not, kind reader, in thus
leading you adown to the coldness of death, in setting before you that
which causes your tender heart to shudder. Mourn not for these departed;
for would we not wish to meetF them there, when, ere long, this mortal
shall have put on immortality? Grieve not because that gentle one has
passed away! say not that she met with an untimely end, when in her
summer of life all was pleasantness before her. Think of her not as one
gone far away, never to be on earth more; cast her not from your heart,
where, during her little day here, in innocence she entwined herself
within its recesses. Oh, no, for she is nearer to us now; she is not
dead, but has passed from death to life; and may her memory remain with
us, in freshness as the ivy green, which loves best the churchyard's
place of holy quietude,-and by her influence may we in spirit come to
be more Christ-like.
CHAPTER XII.
  "Shall I not listen to the sea-shell's moanin$
nation, shedding light over his features,which a stranger might
attribute to a mind of happiness; and yet that look of sadness is
oftenest triumphant, leading those who meet him for the first time to
ask from whence he came, for his countenance betrays that his has been
not the common lot of man. Ah, who is he,--on whom young men and maidens
look with pitying eye? to whom the old man lifts his hat, and little
children cease from their sports as he passes, and quietly slip the
innocent daisy, or the sweet-scented arbutus into his hand, which they
have culled from the wide commons, where, they have been told, the good
Sea-flower loved to stray.
It is Clarence Delwood! his has been a bitter, bitter draught; yet its
dregs have in a measure lost their power, for he has learned that 't is
his Father holds jthe cup. Little, did he think, as they sat together
there on that high bank, which overlooks the sea, upon that last evening
spent with his cherished one in her island home, that it was to be the
last forever! th$
               Because I do n,t wish to live, yet I
                Will try her Charity. Oh hear, you that have plenty,
                From that flowing store, drop some on dry ground; see,
                The lively red is gone to guard her heart;
                I fear she faints. Madam look up, she breaths not;
                Open once more those rosie twins, and send
                Unto my Lord, your latest farewell; Oh, she stirs:
                How is it Madam? Speak comfort.
_Are_.       'Tis not gently done,
                To put me i¾n a miserable life,
                And hold me there; I pray thee let me go,
                I shall do best without thee; I am well.
   _Enter_ Philaster.
_Phil_.      I am to blame to be so much in rage,
                I'le tell her coolely, when and where I heard
                This killing truth. I will be temperate
                In speaking, and as just in hearing.
                Oh monstrous! Tempt me not ye gods, good gods
                Tempt not a f$
AS HOOD
[No date. ? May, 1829.]
Dear Hood,--We will look out for you on Wednesday, be sure, tho' we have
not eyes like Emma, who, when I made her sit with her back to the window
to keep her to her Latin, literally saw round backwards every one that
past, and, O, [that] she were here to jump up and shriek out "There are
the Hoods!" We have had two pretty letters from her, which I long to
show you--together with Enfield in her May beauty.
Loves to Jane.
[_Here follow rough caricatures of Charles and his sister and_] "I
can't draw no better"
[I have dated this letter May, 1829, because Miss Isola had just gone to
Fornham, in Suffolk, whence presumably the two letters had come.]
CHARLES LAMB TO EDWARD MOXON
Calamy is _good reading_. Mary is always thankful for Books in her way.
I won't trouble you for any in _my way_ yet, having enough to read.
Young Hazlitt lives, at least his father does, at _3_ or _36_ [36 I have
it down, with the _6_ scratch'd out] Bouverie Street, Fleet Street. If
not to be found, his mother$
n
          on the perfect household
          his _Curse of Kehama_
          his _Roderick_
          death of his son
          the lapidary style
          his fortune
          his criticism of _Elia_
          Lamb's Letter to
          his reply to Lamb
          his _Tale of Paraguay_
          his _Book of the Church_
          his "VeNsper Bell"
          his "Chapel Bell"
          his _Life of Bunyan_
          and Hone
          his defence of Lamb
_     Spenser, Edmund, and Mr. Spencer
        his sonnet to Harvey
      _Spirit of the Age, The_
      "Spiritual Law," by Barton
      Stamps, Comptroller of
      Stationery, Lamb on
      Stoddart, John. _See_ Letters.
        Lady. _See_ Letters.
        Sarah (afterwards Sarah Hazlitt). _See_ Letters.
          her love affairs
          her mother's illness
          plans for her wedding
          her wedding
      Stoke Newington, the Lambs at
      Stothard, Thomas, Lamb's lines to
      Stowey, Lamb at
      Stuart, Daniel, on Lamb
      Su$
over, will
succeed well in stiff soils where many other plants would refuse to
GYMNOCLADUS.
GYMNOCLADUS CANADENSIS.--Kentucky Coffee Tree. Canada, 1748. When in
full leafage this is a distinct and beautiful tree, the foliage hanging
in well-rounded masses, and presenting a pretty effect by reason of the
loose and tufted appearance of the masses of finely-divided leaves.
Leaves often 3 feet long, bipinnate, and composed of numerous
bluish-green leaflets. Flowers white, borne in loose spikes in the
beginning of summer, and succeeded by flat, somewhat curved brown pods.
It prefers a rich, strong soil or alluvial deposit.
G. CHINENSIS.--Soap Tree. China, 1889. Readily distinguished from the
American species by its much smaller and more numerous leaflets, and
thicker fruit pod. It is not very hardy in this country unless in the
milder sea-side districts. The leaves are used by thue Chinese women to
wash their hair, hence the popular name of Soap Tree.
HLESIA DIPTERA (_syn H. reticulata_).--North America, 1758. Thi$
 realize through what suffering and
hardship the troops passed during the three months the Siege of Delhi
lasted. Day after day, under a burning sun or through the deadly time of
the rainy season, with pestilence in their midst, distressing accounts
from all parts of the country, and no hope of relief save through their
own unaided exertions, the soldiers of the army before Delhi fought with
a courage and constancy which no difficulties could daunt and no trials,
however severe, could overcome. In the end these men, worn out by
exposure and diminished in numbers, stormed a strong fortified city
defended by a vastly superior force, and for six days carried on a
constant fight in the streets, till the enemy were driven out of their
stronghold and Delhi was won. It must also be remembered that the
feat was accomplished wiBthout the help of a single soldier from home;
reinforcements had arrived in the country, but thy were hundreds of
miles distant when the news reached them of the capture of Delhi: and it
is not$
the one next the sea,
which sheltered the other, and us who were under the other, went off, I
suppose about ten o'clock. After my old plan, I will ive you a sketch,
from which you may perceive how we were situated:--
      [In print, a figure representing a floor-plan appears here]
The _a_, _a_ are the windows that were first destroyed: _b_ went next;
my books were between the windows _b_, and on the wall opposite to them.
The lines _c_ and _d_ mark the directions of the two roofs; _e_ is the
room in which we were, and 2 is a plan of it on a larger scale. Look
now at 2: _a_ is the bed; _c_, _c_ the two wardrobes; _b_ the corner
in which we were. I was sitting in an arm-chair, holding my Wife; and
Tyrrell and the little Black child were close to us. We had given up all
notion o surviving; and only waited for the fall of the roof to perish
"Before long the roof went. Most of the materials, however, were carried
clear away: one of the large couples was caught on the bedpost marked
_d_, and held fast by the iron $
he times of the Gracchi it is
necessary to understand the history of the orders at Rome.] But, in
order to understand rightly the events of those fifty years, some
survey, however brief, of the previous history of the Roman orders is
indispensable.
[Sidenote: The patres.] When the mists of legend clear awy we see a
community which, if we do not take slaves into account, consisted
of two parts--the governing body, or patres, to whom alone the term
Populus Romanus strictly applied, and who constituted the Roman State,
and the governed class, or clientes, who were outside its pale. The
word patrician, more familiar to our ear than the substantive from
which it is formed, came to imply much more than its original meaning.
[Sidenote: The clients.] In its simplest -and earliest sense it was
applied to a man who was sprung from a Roman marriage, who stood
towards his client on much the same footing which, in the mildest form
of slavery, a master occupies towards his slave. As the patronus was
to the libertus, when i$
f our modest origin, the
ridiculous mania for trimmings, embroidery, and shoulder-knots has begun
to take hold upon you.
"To work! You have for the first time accomplished a revolution by, and
for, labour.
"Let us not forget our origin, and, above all, do not let us be ashamed
of it, Workmen we were! workmen let us rZmain!
"In the name of virtue against vice, of duty against abuse, of austerity
against corruption, we have triumphed; let us not forget the fact.
"Let us be, above all, men of honour and duty; we shall then found an
austere Republic, the only one that has or can have reason for its
"I appeal to the good sense of my fellow-citizens: let us have no more
tags and lace, no more glitter, no more frippery which costs so little
at the shops yet is so dear to our responsibility.
"In future, anyone who cannot deduce proof of his right to wear the
insignia of his nominal rank, or, who shall add to the regular uniform
of the Natilonal Guard, tags, lace, or other vain distinctions, will be
liable to be punis$
er checking the
signals he made concerning the approaching "tivo" dancer on the previous
"What is` it?" asked Holman.
"Some one go by, much hurry," murmured the Fijian.
We crouched =n the bushes and listened. It was hardly likely that Leith
had changed his route, and the only person that we knew to be in our
neighbourhood was the dancer.
"If we could get hold of him we might use the third degree on him to
guide us to the spot that Leith is making for," said Holman. "We'll be
outgeneralled completely if he gets into those caverns on the hills. If
he has provisions he can snap his fingers at a regiment."
I agreed with him on that point. The valley inside the basalt cliffs,
and which, as far as we could judge, could only be entered by the
slippery pathway in the Vermilion Pit, was about the finest natural
hiding place in the world. Without taking the caves into consideration,
the luxurious vegetation in the cup between the hills made the finding
of a person a matter of extreme luck. It was a marvellous maze that$
thought was a token of affection from his beloved.
But the arrival of the messenger was worth more than the emerald ring to
us at that moment. He had more woodcraft than Kaipi, who had spent most
of his time upon the ocean, and his information regarding the directivon
in which Leith was now heading saved us many weary hours of marching.
Yams and guavas, with wild passion fruit, made a breakfast and dinner as
we clawed our way in pursuit. At midday we judged that we were hot upon
the trail, unless Leith had changed is course, but the black cliffs
were close to us at that moment, and the recollections of the gloomy
caverns made us silent as we pushed through the matted jungle. We could
see no trace of the path which Leith would be compelled to cut to enable
the two girls to get through, and we heard no sounds. A lone parrakeet
startled us with its harsh cry as it rose from a maupei tree, and the
bird even seemed to recognize that it had committed a breach in sending
its unmusical cry out upon the awful quiet of$
uitors, after
listening awhile, departed without seeing the lady. The inevitable
account-book mentions the sums paid to the clergyman, fiddlers, and
servants, on the occasion of the marriage.
His wife's fortune, as he informs us, doubled his own, and placed
him in a position of pecuniary independence. He soon abandoned his
profession, and thenceforward his career was a public one. He
entered political life at the time when it first became evident that
a war©with England must occur, and threw himself into the extreme
party. He was admirably fitted for success in a legislative body.
His talents were deliberative, rather than executive. He had no power
in debate, but he possessed qualities which we believe are more
uniformly influential in a public assemblage,--tact, industry, a
conciliatory disposition, and systematic habits of thought. He was
alwys familiar with the details of legislation. The majority of the
members of a legislature can seldom know much about its business.
Those questions which excite popular$
akin'. But jest as like as not I'd go in another time, and
find him cryin',--but he'd wipe his eyes and try not to show it,
--and it was all nothin' but some more verses he'd been a-writin'.
I've heerd him say that it was put down in one of them ancient books,
that a man must cry, himself, if h wants to make other folks cry;
but, says he, you can't make 'em neither laugh nor cry, if you don't
try on them feelin's yourself before you send your work to the
He was a temperate man, and always encouraged temperance by‹ drinkin'
jest what he was a mind to, and that was generally water. You
couldn't scare him with names, though. I remember a young minister
that's go'n' to be, that boards at my house, askin' once what was
the safest strong drink for them that had to take somethin' for the
stomach's sake and thine awful infirmities. _Aqua fortis_, says he,
--because you know that'll eat your insides out, if you get it too
strong, and so you always mind how much you take. Next to that, says
he, rum's the safest for a w$
ano declaredW that fighting rested you after a march, and
when he described an engagement you would have said that he was at a
concert or a "movie."
The rhythm of the shells, the noise when they left the gun and when
they burst, reminded him of the passage with cymbals in the divine
scherzo of the Ninth Symphony. When he heard overhead as from an
airy music-box the buzzing of these steel mosquitoes, mischievous,
imperious, angry, treacherous, or simply full of amiable carelessness,
he felt like astreet boy rushing out to see a fire. No more fatigue;
mind and body on the alert; and when came the long-awaited order
"Forward!" one jumped to one's feet, light as a feather, and ran to
the nearest shelter under the hail of bullets, glad to be in the open,
like a hound on the scent. You crawled on your hands and knees, or on
your stomach, you ran all bent doubled-up, or did Swedish gymnastics
through the underbrush ... that made up for not being able to walk
straight; and when it grew dark you said: "What, night alr$
trol
kept throwing fuel on the flame, and then wondered at the alarming
rumblings. This revolt of the elements was attributed to the wicked
designs of some free speakers, to mysterious intrigues, to the enemy's
gold, to the pacifists; and none of them saw--though a child would
have known it--that, if they wanted to prevent an explosion, the first
thing to do was to put out the fire. The god of all these powers was
force; no matter what they were called, empires, or republics, it was
the mailed fist, disguised, gloved but hard and sure of itself. It
became also, like a rising tide, the law of the oppressed, a dark
struggle between two contrary pressures. Where the metal had worn
thin--in Russia first--the boiler had burst. Where there were cacks
in the cover--as in neutral countries--€he hissing steam escaped,
but a deceitful calm reigned over the countries at war, kept down by
oppression. To the oppressors this calm was reassuring; they were
armed equally against the enemy or their own citizens. The machine o$
 those "higher-up" could not fai5 to ind a
connection between these shady transactions and Thouron's so-called
pacifism. This had showed itself in his paper, in an irregular
incoherent way, subject to attacks of "Exterminism," but none the less
it was all supposed to be part of the great "defeatist" scheme, and
the examination of his correspondence allowed the authorities to drag
in anyone they chose. As he had carefully kept every letter, from men
of all shades of opinion, there were plenty to choose from and they
soon found what they wanted.
It was only through the papers that Clerambault heard that he was on
the list, and they breathed a triumphant: "At last we have got him."
... All was now clear, for if a man thinks differently from the rest
of the world, is it not plain as daylight that there must be some low
motive underneath it all? Seek and you will find ...They had found,
and without going further, one Paris newspaper announced the "treason"
of Clerambault. There was no trace of this in the indictme$
's why it is I am always so
interested in these affairs.  I have helped to marry so many peole in
this place, that I'm almost afraid to stir out after dark."
Hardy's reply was interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Edward Silk, a young
man of forlorn aspect, who combined in his person the offices of
messenger, cleaner, and office-boy to the firm.  He brought in some
letters, and placing them on Mr. Swann's desk retired.
"There's another," said the latter, as the door closed.  "His complaint
is Amelia Kybird, and he's got it badly.  She's big enough to eat him,
but I believe that they are engaged.  Perseverance has done it in his
case.  He used to go about like a blighted flower--"
"I am rather busy," his partner reminded him.
Mr. Swann sighed and resumed his own labours.  For some time both men
wrote in silence.  Then the elder suddenly put his pen down and hit his
desk a noisy thump with his fist.
"I've got it," he said, briskly; "apologize humbly for all your candour,
and I will give you a piece of information¼$
tchery. The
results of their industry procured immediate custom, and the noble
cloths and lustrous silks of Santa Monica, with the Lady Cammilla's
initials attached, became famous far and near. These objects consisted
of pillow-cases, screens, portieres, decorative panels, banners,
scarves, cushions, handkerchiefs, bodices and various other details of
feminine attire, with rich vestments for the clergy, and sumptuous
altar-cloths.
The Grand Duchess Bianca, who, with characteristic sweetness and
generosity, had all along sympathised with poor Lady Cammilla, was the
best customer of the convent industries, and, moreover, she frequently
visited the gentle pSisoner, and showed her many charming attentions.
For two Medici brides, also, Cammilla superintended the preparation of
trousseaux--her own daughter Virginia, Duke Cosimo's child, and the
Grand Duke's eldest daughter, Maria, who married King Henry IV. of
Another sort of employment found in the Lady Cammilla vn earnest and
skilful directress, namely, the manuf$
ne meshes of a spider's web. Still he
slept on, and with a delighted chuckle Teddy sped back to his little
companion; her eyes were dancing with mirth, and she clapped her hands
at the successful exploit.
'He'll wake up and won't be able to get away. What fun! how I should like
to see him!'
'Come on quick. He's Farmer Green, and he's an awful angry man; he gave
Sam such a thrashing for ying an old saucepan to one of his pigs' tails.
He won't know who has done it, and I did tie the knots awful tight.'
Away they ran; but they had not proceeded far before Teddy came to a
standstill, and all the saucy sparkle died out of his eyes.
'What's the matter?' asked Nancy. 'Have you got a pain?'
'I'm afraid I am going to have a fight with Ipse.'
The words were uttered almost in a whisper, and Nancy looked onPwith wonder.
'It isn't right,' he said, after a long pause. 'I do want--at least, Ipse
wants--to leave him there awfully, but mother would say it was very
naughty, and I think--I think my Captain doesn't like it. I sh$
ries before the Osmanli Turks made their appearance in Asia
Minor, there had come from out of the misty East numerous bodies of
Turks, pushing westwards, and spreading over the Euphrates valley and
over Persia, in nomadic or military colonisations, and it is not until
the thirteenth century that we find the Osmanli Turks, who give their
name to that congregation of races known as the Ottoman Empire,
established in the north-west corner of Asia Minor. Like all previou
Turkish immigrations, they came not in any overwhelming horde, with
sword in one hand and Koran in the other, but as a small compact body
with a genius for military organisation, and the gift, which they retain
to this day, of sthlwart fighting. The policy to which they owed their
growth was absorption, and the people whom they first began to absorb
were Greeks and other Christians, and it was to a Christian girl,
Nilufer, that Osman married his son Orkhan. They took Christian youths
from the families of Greek dwellers, forced them to apostatise,$
I see--I see," wvery slowly, and then smiled.
"We'll put the money aside just now," he said. "Perhaps, after a
little, we--we'll came back to that. I think you've forgotten, though,
that when--when Uncle Fred and I had our difference you had just
thrown me over--had just ordered me never to speak to you again?
I couldn't very well ask you to marry me, could I, under those
circumstances?"
"I spoke in a moment of irritation," a very dignified Margaret pointed
out; "you would have paid no attention whatever to it if you had
really--cared."
Billy laughed, rather sadly. "Oh, I cared right enough," he said. "I
still care. The question is--do you?"
"No," said Margaret, w¨th decision, "I don't--not in the _least_."
"Peggy," Mr. Woods commanded, "look at me!"
"You have had your answer, I think," Miss Hugonin indifferently
Billy caught her chin in his hand and turned her face to his. "Peggy,
do you--care?" he asked, softly.
And Margaret looked into his honest-seeming eyes and, in a panic, knew
that her traitor lips wer$
aught sight of a
rider coming from the opposite direction. As they drew closer the
other man swung his mount far to one side. Buck chuckled softly,
seeing that the other evidently desired to pass without being
recognized. The chuckle died when the stranger changed direction and
rode straight for Buck. The latter pulled his horse to a quick stop
and turned to face the on-comer. He made sure that his six-gun was
loose in the holster, for it was always well to be prepared for the
unusual in these chance meetings in the mountain-desert.
"Hey, Buck!" called the galloping horseman.
The hand of Daniels dropped away from his revolver, for he recognized
the voice of oHal Purvis, who swiftly ranged alongside.
"What's the dope?" asked Buck, producing his tobacco and the
inevitable brown papers.
"Jest lookin' the landscape over an' scoutin' around for news,"
answered Purvis.
"Pick up anything?"
"Yeh. Ran across some tenderfoot squatters jest out of Elkhead."
Buck grunted and lighted hMis cigarette.
"Which you've been sor$
of late, trials had
multiplied; and days and nights of heart-crushing sorrow had been
appointed unto her. He who should have shared life's trials and
lightened their weight, had proved recreant to his trust, and was now
wandering, she knew not whither; and poverty was staring the deserted
family in the face. Debts had accumulated, and though Mrs. Hamilton had
done all that could be done to meet the emergency, though she ad
labored incessantly, and borne fatigue and self-denial, with a brave and
cheerful spirit, it had been found necessary to leave the home so dear
to her,--the home where she had been brought a far and youthful bride;
where she had spent many happy years, and which was endeared to her by
so many sweet and hallowed, as well as painful, associations. Every foot
of the green meadow, the orchard on the hill, and the pasture lying
beyond, was dear to her; and it was painful to see them pass into other
hands. But that heaviest of all the trials which poverty brings to the
mother's heart, was hers al$
t
numbers--for those away gathering honey, as they returned, joined in the
attack--that the bears became wild with pain and fear, and had to give up
their ffort and drop to the ground. Even then the bees gave them no peace,
and continued to sting them until they were obliged to run into the dark
forest for relief.
"Thus it happens now that almost all creatures that bother the bees are
similarly treated."
[Illustration: "They howled with rage and terror."]
"Well," said Minnehaha, "they need not have stung me because I was picking
a few flowers; but, after all, I am glad they have their stings or I
suppose we should never have any honey."
"They are not big enough to have much sense," replied Sagastao, "and so
they go for everyone that gets in their way."
Mary now carefully removed the clay poultices, which had effectually done
[heir work. A wash followed, in the waters of the lake which rippled at
their feet, and soon not the slightest trace of the sting remained. By the
time they reached home both pain and tea$
a little stamp--"I am ashamed of you. How can you think
such things of me? You must have a very poor opinion of me."
"My dear, why sh¡uld I suppose myself superior to anybody else, that
you should only fall in love with me? You set too high a value on me."
"And you set too low a value on me; you do not understand me. You are
my fate, my other self; how would it have been possible for me to love
any one but you? I feel as though I had been travelling to meet you
since the beginning of the world, to stand by your side till it
crumbles away, yes, for eternity itself. Oh! Arthur, do not laugh at
what I say. I am, indeed, only a simple girl, but, as I told you last
night, there is something stirring in me now, my real life, my eternal
part, something that you have awakened, and with which you have to
deal, something apart from the _me_ you see before you. As I speak, I
feel and know that whenwe are dead and gone, I shall love you still;
when more ages have passed than there are leaves upon that tree, I
shall love $
n of the Legislature at its
present session, I think it my duty to communicate the views which have
guided me in the execution of that act, in order that you may decide
on the policy of continuing it in the present or any other form, or
discontinue it altogether if that shall, on the whole, seem most for
the public good.
The Indian tribes residing within the limits of the United States
have for a considerable time been growing more and more uneasy at the
constant diminution of the territory they occupy, although effeced by
their own voluntary sales, and the policy has long been gaining strength
with them of refusing absolutely all further sale on any conditions,
insomuch that at this time it hazards their friendship and excites
dangerous jealousies and perturbations in their minds to make any
overture for the purchase of the smallest portions of their land. A
very few tribes only are ot yet obstinately in these dispositions. In
order peaceably to counteract this policy of theirs and to provide an
extension of$
hore of the lake like a shadow--silently,
as only Indian blood can move. He raised his head and looked about him.
The thick darkness rendered sight of small avail, but like the animals,
he possessed other senses that darkness could not mute. He
listened--then sniffed the air. Motionless as a hemlock stem he stood
there. After five minutes again he lifted his head and sniffed, and yet
once again. A tingling of the wonderful nerves that betrayed itself by
no outer sign, ran through him as he tasted the keen air. Then, merging
his figure into the surrounding blackness in a way that only wild men
and animals understand, he turned, still moving like a shadow, and went
stealthily back to his lean-to and his bed.
And soon after he slept, the change of wind he had divined stirred
gently the reflection of the stars within the lake. Rising among the far
ridges of the country beyond Fifty Island Water, it came from the
direction in which he had stared, and it passed over the sleeping camp
w}ith a faint and sighing murmu$
indulged, unless under great provocation.
Browning had said nothing. He was pulling steadily at his pipe, quite
unaware that it had gone out.
"What do you make of Mr. Peddington Slush?" asked Jack.
"I don't know what to make of him," confessed Frank. "About the only
thing of which I am sure is that he has a corker for a name. That name
is enough to make any man look sad and dejected."
"What did he come here for, anyhow?" asked Rattleton.
"To find out about Raymond Bloodgood--he said."
"I know he said so, but I don't stake any talk--I mean take any stock in
that. What difference does it make to him who Bloodgood is?"
"That was something he did not makeÃclear."
"He didn't seem to make anything clear," declared Jacfk. "I thought for
sure that he was going to throw out some hooks to drag us into that game
of poker. If he had, I should have known he was sent here, and I'd
kicked him out, whether you had been willing or not, Merry!"
"I'd opened the door and held it wide for you," smiled Frank.
"What do you think of$
alking in subdued tones. He
was explaining the necessity of his being in London next week, and
promising to come back to Fellside directly his business at the House
'It will be delightful to read your speeches,' said Mary; 'but I am
silly and selfish enough to wish you were a country squire, with no
business in London. And yet I don't wish that either, for I am intensely
proud of you.'
'And some day, before we are much older, you will sit in your robes in
the peeress's gallery.'
'Oh, I couldn't,' cried Mary. 'I should make a fool of_myself, somehow.
I should look like a housemaid in borrowed plumes. Remember, I have no
_Anstand_--I have been told so all my life.'
'You will be one of the prettiest peeresses who ever sat in that
gallery, and the purest, and truest, and dearest,' protested her)lover-husband.
'Oh, if I am good enough for you, I am satisfied. I married _you_, and
not the House of Lords. But I am afraid your friends will all say,
"Hartfield, why in heaven's name did you marry that uncultivated
pers$
aving missed Lord Hartfield, there was
really no one in the Blue Book worth waiting for. Thus, caring only for
those things which wealth can buy, she had made up her mind that she
could not do without Horace Smithson's money; and she must therefore
needs resign herself to the disagreeable necessity of taking Smithson
and his money together. The great auctioneer Fate would not divide the
She told herself that for her a loveless marriage was, after all, no
prodigious sacrifice. She had found out that hert made but a small
figure in the sum of her life. She could do without love. A year ago she
had fancied herself n love with John Hammond. In her seclusion at St.
Bees, in the long, dull August days, sauntering up and down by the edge
of the sea, in the melancholy sunset hour, she thought that her heart
was broken, that life was worthless without the man she loved. She had
thought and felt all this, but not strongly enough to urge her to any
great effort, not keenly enough to make her burst her chains. She had
pr$
s deck.
'I have come to take you and Lady Kirkbank back to Cowes, Lesbia,' said
Maulevrier. 'I'm not going to make any aundue fuss about this little
escapade of yours, provided you go back with Hartfield and me at once,
and pledge yourself never to hold any further communication with Don
Gomez de Montesma.'
The Spaniard was standing close by, silent, white as death, but ready to
make a good fight. That pallor of the clear olive skin was not from want
of pluck; but there was the deadly knowledge of the ground he stood
upon, the doubt that any woman, least of all such a woman as Lady Lesbia
Haselden, could be true to him if his character and antecedents were
revealed to her. And how much or how little these two men could tell her
about himself or his past life was the question which the next few
minutes would solve.
'I am not going back with you,' answered Lesbia. 'I am going to Havre
with Don Gomez de Montesma. We are to be married there as soon as we
'To be married--t Havre,' cried Maulevrier. 'An appropriate$
unless he could make up his mind to tear
his army into a number of small portions, which at that time was most
inexpedient, but he could not, by withdrawing the garrisons, leave the
fidelity of his aHlies open to the influence of hope, or subject to
that of fear. His disposition, which was strongly inclined to avarice
and cruelty, induced him to plunder the places he could not keep
possession of, that they might be left for the enemy in a state of
desolation. This resolution was equally horrid in principle and in its
issue, for not only were the affections of those who suffered such
harsh treatment alienated from him, but also of the other states, for
the warning affected a greater number than did the calamity. Nor did
the Roman consul fail to sound the inclinations of the cities,
whenever any prospect of success presented itself. Dasius and Blasius
were the principal men in Salapia, Dasius was the friend of Hannibal,
Blaius, as far as he could do it with safety, promoted the Roman
interest, and, by means of $
 urged
each other, and pressed the standard-bearers to quicken their pace.
The dictator, the more eagerly he saw them push forward, took the more
pains to repress their haste, and ordered them to march at a slower
rate. On the other side, the Etrurians, putting themselves in motion,
on the first beginning of the fray had come up with their whole force,
and several expresses came to the dictator, one after another, that
all theregions of the Etrurians had joined in the fight, and that his
men could not any longer withstand them: at the same time, he himself
saw, from the higher ground, in how perilous a situ�ation the party
was. Confident, however, that the lieutenant-general was able, even
yet, to support the contest, and considering that he himself was at
hand to rescue him from defeat, he wished to let the enemy be
fatigued, as much as might be, in order that, when in that state, he
might fall on them with his fresh troops. Slowly as these marched, the
distance was now just sufficient for the cavalry to beg$
t, on the first tumult raised by the Numidians, all the
cavalry, being full of confidence in that part of the forces; then six
thousand infantry, and lastly all his army, to the place already
determined in his plan. It happened to be the winter season and a
snowy day, in the region which lies between the Alps and the Apennine,
and excessively cold by the proximity of rivers and marshes: besides,
there was no heat in the bodies of the men and horses thus hastily led
out without having first taken food, or employed any means to keep off
the cold; and the nearer they approached to the blasts from the river,
a keener degree of cold blew upon them. But when, in pursuit of the
flying Numidians, they entered the water, (and it was swollen by rain
in the night as high as their breasts,) then in truth the bodies of
all, on landing, were so benumbed, that they were scarcely able to
hold theirarms; and as the day advanced they began to grow fain|t,
both from fatigue and hunger.
55. In the mean time the soldiers of Hanni$
 to be sent; and
money for the pay, and corn for the soldiers who had deserved so well
of the Carthaginian name." After this speech of Mago's, all being
elated with joy, Himilco, a member of the Barcine faction, conceiving
this a good opportunity for inveighing against Hanno, said to him,
"What tink you now, Hanno? do you now also regret that the war
against the Romans was entered upon? Now urge that Hannibal should be
given up; yes, forbid the rendering of thanks to the immortal gods
amidst such successes; let us hear a Roman senator in the senate-house
of the Carthaginians." Upon which Hanno replied, "I should have
r¢emained silent this day, conscript fathers, lest, amid the general
joy, I should utter any thing which might be too gloomy for you. But
now, to a senator, asking whether I still regret the undertaking of
the war against the Romans, if I should forbear to speak, I should
seem either arrogant or servile, the former of which is the part of a
man who is forgetful of the independence of others, the $
fect? I make here no question of the
existing power. I speak only of the power necessary for the purpose.
Commissioners would be appointed to trace a route in the most direct
line, paying due regard to heights, water courses, and other obstacles,
and to acquire the right to the ground over which the road and canal
would pass, with sufficient breadth for each. This must be done by
voluntary grants, or by purchases from individuals, or, in case they
would not sell or should ask an exorbitant price, by condemning the
property and fixing its value by a jury of the vicinage. The next object
to be attended to after the road and canal are laid out and made is to
keep them in repair. We know that there are people in every community
capable of committing voluntary injuries, ofpulling down walls that are
made to sustain the road, of breaking the bridges over water courses,
and breaking the road itself. Some living near it might be disappointed
that it did not pass through their landsv and commit these acts of
violence $
 States, I herewith transmit a report from the Secretary of War.
JAMES MONROE.
WASHINGTON, _May 7, 1822_.
_To the House of Representatives_:
In compliance with the resolution of the House of Representatives of the
23d of April, requesting the President of the United States to cause to
be communicated to that House certain information respecting the lead
mines of the State of Missouri, I herewith transmit a report of the
Secretary of War.
JAMES MONROE.
WASHINGTON, _May 7, 1822_.
_To the House of Representatves_:
In compliance with the resolution of the House of Representatives of
the 7th of May, requesting the President to communicate to that House
a letter of Jonathan Russell, esq., referred to in his message of the
4th instant, together with such communications as he may have received
relative thereto from any of the other ministers of the United States
who negotiated the trea[ty of Ghent, I herewith transmit a report from
the Secretary of State, with the documents called for by that
JAMES MONROE.
VETO MESSA$
 to the Constitution to obtain it. I propose to examine this
The inquiry confined to its proper objects and within the most limited
scale is extensive. Our Government is unlike other governments both in
its origin and form. In analyzing it the differences in certain respects
between it and those of other nations, ancient and modern, necessarily
come into view. I propose to notice these differences so far as they are
connecte with the object of inquiry, and the consequences likely to
result from them, vary)ing in equal degree from those which have attended
other governments. The digression, if it may be so called, will in every
instance be short and the transition to the main object immediate and
To do justice to the subject it will be necessary to mount to the source
of power in these States and to pursue this power in its gradations and
distribution among the several departments in which it is now vested.
The great division is between the State governments and the General
Government. If there was a perfect a$
till as Theseus' self; and both astonished his red-bearded
compatriots, and won money for his master, by his prowess in the late
feat of arms at Holland House.
Mr. Bowie is asked to walk into Sabina's boudoir (for Claude is out in
the garden), to sit dFown, and deliver his message: which he does after
a due military salute, sitting bolt upright in his chair, and in a
solemn and sonorous voice.
"Well, madam, it's just this, that his lordship would be very glad to
see ye and Mr. Mellot, for he's vary ill indeed, and that's truth; and
if he winna tell ye the cause, then  will--and it's just a' for love
of this play-acting body here, and more's the pity."
"More's the pity, indeed!"
"And it's my opeenion the puir laddie will just die, if nobody sees to
him; and I've taken the liberty of writing to Major Cawmill mysel', to
beg him to come up and see to him, for it's a pity to see his lordship
cast away, for want of an understanding body to advise him."
"So I am not an understanding body, Bowie?"
"Oh, madam, ye're y$
:
I like all that sort of thing, and--and if I had you to teach me, I
should care about nothing else. I have given up all my nonsense since
I knew you; indeed I have--I am trying all day long to read--ever
since you said something about being useful, and noble, and doing
one's work:--I have never forgotte that, madam, and never shall; and
you would find me a pleasant person to live with, I do believe. At all
events, I would--oh, madam--I would be your servant, your dog--I would
fetch and carry for you like a negro slave!"
Marie urned pale, and rose.
"Listen to me, my lord; this must end. You do not know to whom you are
speaking. You talk of negro slaves. Know that you are talking to one!"
Scoutbush looked at her in blank astonishment.
"Madam? Excuse me: but my own eyes--"
"You are not to trust them; I tell you fact."
Scoutbush was silent. She misunderstood his silence: but went on
"I tell you, my lord, what I expect you to keep secret: and I know
that I can trust your honour."
Scoutbush bowed.
"And what I sho$
rcato for a cup of milk'
But as soon as they emerged from the narrow streets into the Old Market,
they found the place packed with excited groups of men and women humming
with gossip.
"Diavolo!" said Bratti. "The Mercato has gone as mad as if the Holy
Father had excommunicated us again! I must know what this is."
He pushed about among the crowd, inquiring and disputing, and was
presently absorbed in discussing the newest developme*nt of Florentine
politics, the death of Lorenzo de Medici, and whether or not this death
was the beginning of the time of tribulation that Savonarola had been
seeing in visions and foretelling in sermons.
Indifferent to this general agitation, the young stranger became tired
of waiting for Bratti's escort, and strolling on round the piazza, felt,
on a sudden thought, in the wallet that hung at his waist.
"Not an obolus, by Jupiter!" he murmured, in a language that was not
Tuscan or even Italian. "I must get my breakfast for love, then!"
In a corner, away from any group of talkers, t$
ling, now there are tears in my eyes, and the moonlight grows di. I
cannot bear the thinking what you would do when I said those words!
Good-night! Perhaps in my sleep I will say them agVin, and you will be
there to answer. In the morning I shall write out for you to-day's clover
The clover song was not in the letter. We found it afterward on a small
piece of paper, so worn and broken in the folds that we knew it must have
been carried for months in a pocket-book.
  A Song of Clover.
  I wonder what the Clover thinks?--
  Intimate friend of Bob-o-links,
  Lover of Daisies slim and white,
  Waltzer with Butter-cups at night;
  Keeper of Inn for travelling Bees,
  Serving to them wine dregs and lees,
  Left by the Royal Humming-birds,
  Who sip and pay with fine-spun words;
  Fellow with all the lowliest,
  Peer of the gayest and the best;
  Comrade of winds, beloved of sun,
  Kissed by the Dew-drops, one by one;
  Prophet of Good Luck mystery
  By sign of four which few may see;
  Symbol of Nature's magic zone$
give unto you.'"
After pronouncing these words, Draxy paused again, and looking towards her
pew, made a slight sign to Reuby. The child understood instantly, and
walked swiftly to her.
"Sit in this chair here by mamma, Reuby darling," she whispered, and Reuby
climbed up into the big chair on her right hand, and leaned his fair
golden head against the high mahogany back. Draxy had become conscious, in
that first second, that she could not read with Reuby's wistful face in
sight. Also she felt a sudden yearning for the support of his nearer
"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you," she repeated, and went
on with the sermon. Her tones were low, but clear, and her articulation so
perfect that no syllable was lost; she could have been distinctly eard in
a room twice as large as this. The sight was one which thrilled every
heart that looked £on it; no poor laboring man there was so dull of sense
and soul that he did not sit drinking in the wonderful picture: the tall,
queenly woman robed in simple flowing$
 butchers
treated themselves to a little of the marrow and warm liver in a raw
Cameron and Joe walked up to the group while they were indulging in
this little feast.
"Well, I've often seen that eaten, but I never could do it myself,"
remarked the former. "No!" cried Joe in surprise; "now that's oncommon
cur'us. I've _lived_ on raw liver an' marrow-bones for two or three
days at a time,iwhen we wos chased by the Camanchee Injuns an' didn't
dare to make a fire; an' it's ra'al good, it is. Won't ye try it
Cameron shook his head.
"No, thankee; I'll not refuse when I can't hel it, but until then
I'll remain in happy ignorance of how good it is."
"Well, it _is_ strange how some folk can't abide anything in the meat
way they ha'n't bin used to. D'ye know I've actually knowed men from
the cities as wouldn't eat a bit o' horseflesh for love or money.
Would ye believe it?"
"I can well believe that, Joe, for I have met with such persons
myself; in fact, they are rather numerous. What are you chuckling at,
"Chucklin'? If$
 slowly, and it was obvious
that cottagers from Allerby were gathering fuel.
"Confound them! This is too much!" he exclaimed and beckoned his
gamekeeper. "If that is Mrs. Forsyth, tell her to come up."
The woman advanced and rested her sack upon the hedge. Her wrinkled face
was wet with sweat, but she did not look alarmed.
"Eh!" she said, "sticks is heavy and I'm none so young as I was."
"You have no business in the wood," said Osborn sternly.
"There's nea place else where we can pick up sticks."
"That is your affair. You know you're not allowed to gather wood in my
plantations."
"We canna gan withoot some kindling; when you canna keep it dry, peat is
ill to light. Terrible messy stuff, too, and mak's nea end o' dirt."
The children came up and when they stood, open-mouthed, gazing at the
party :ne of the sportsmen laughed.
"Then burn coal and the dirt won't bother you," Osborn rejoinePd.
"Hoo can we burn coal?" the woman asked. "Noo Tom Bell has lease o' baith
yards, he's putten up t' price, and when you've p$
've somethin to
do when I get back."
"Busy lad!" said Janet, in a mocking voice. "You're always in a hurry,
Kit I suppose Peter works you hard?"
"He says I work him harder than he likes," Kit replied, smiling. "Perhaps
the truth is he lets me have my way."
"You're lucky," Janet remarked with a sigh. "It's nice to be able
to do what you like. There's only one way at the Mill house, and
that's father's. But I suppose you agree with him that women's
ideas don't count?"
"I daresay their ideas are as sound as ours, but I don't know much about
it. We have no women except old Bella and the dairymaid at Ashness."
"And you never miss hem? In that big, lonely house!"
Kit mused for a moment. Sometimes, particularly on summer evenings when
they did not light the lamps and the shadows of the fells rested on the
old building, Ashness was lonely and drearily quiet. He had thought now
and then the difference would be marked if a woman's laugh rang through
the dim rooms and a graceful figure sat by the hearth. Still, his
imag$
rs go unpaid, but this was not enough. After a time, he put
away his books in a fit of hopeless anger and drove across to see Hayes
at the market town.
The interview was short and disappointing. Osborn could not tell Hayes
why he needed money and found him unusually firm. He proved that the
estate was heavily overburdened, fresh loans were impossible, and stern
economy must be used if it was to be saved from bankruptcy. To some
extent, Osborn had expected this, but had cherished a faint hope that
Hayes might lend him enough to satisfy Gerald's creditor. He could not
force himself to ask for a loan outright, and Hayes had been strangely
dull about his cautious hints. Osborn believed the fellow could have
helped him, but as he had shown no wish to do so there was nothing to be
said. He drove home in a downcast mood and sent for Gerald.
"I can't get the money," he said. "You know the man you delt with. Is
there any hope of his renewing the bill?"
"I'm afraid there is none, sir," Gerald replied
"When he made the $
the grasp. Here was a Mary unfathomed of all his hazards of study,
undreamed of in all his flights of fancy.
"It is my last view," he began. "I have said all my good-bys in town. I
Covertly, fearfully, he watched the effect of the news. At least now
she would look around at him‹. He would no longer have to talk to a
profile and to the golden mist of the horizon about the greatest thing
of his life. But there was no sign of surprise; not even an inclination
of her head.
"Yes," she told the horizon; and after a little silence added: "The time
has come to play another part?"
She asked the quest
ion of the horizon, without any trace of the old
banter over the wall. She asked it in confirmation of a commonplace.
"I know that you have always thought of me as playing a part. But I am
not my own master. I must go. I--"
"Back to your millions!" She finished the sentence for him.
"Then you--you knew! You knew!" But his exclamation of astonishment did
not move her to a glance in his direction or even a tremor.
"Yes," sh$

pursed out his lips in mock terrorization of his opponent3. "You are
pretty near yourself again, young sir," he added, as he paused at the
opening in the hedge.
"Yes, strength has been fairly flooding back the last two or three days.
I can feel it travelling in my veins and making the tissues expand. It is
glorious to be alive, O Doge!"
"Now, do you want me to take the other side on that question so you can
have another unecarned victory? I refuse to humor the invalid any longer
and I agree. The proposition that it is glorious to live on such an
afternoon as this is carried unanimously. But I will never agree that you
can grow dates the equal of mine."
"Not until my first crop is ripe; then there will be no dispute!"
"That is real persiflage!" the Doge called after Jack.
Jack had made his first visit to the Doge's garden since he had left it
to meet Prather and Leddy rather brief when he found that Mary was not at
home. She had ridden out to the pass. Her trips to the pass had been so
frequent of late that h$
is event that was so much talked about, and which even got into
the newsapers, but which the majority would not credit because they
were not able to explain how anything like that could have happened.
_Saturday, March twenty-sixth_.
Two days later, another strange thing happened. A flock of wild geese
came flying one morning, and lit on a meadow down in Eastern Skane not
very far from Vittskoevle manor. In the flock were thirteen wild geese,
of the usual gray variety, and one white goosey-gander, who carried on
his back a tiny lad dressed in yellow leather breeches, green vest, and
a white woollen toboggan hood.
They were now very near the Eastern sea; and on the meadow where the
geese had alighted the soil was sandy, as it usually is on the
sea-coast. It looked as if, formerly, there had been flying sand in this
vicinity which had to be held down; for in several directions large,
planted pine-woods could be seen.
When the wild geese had been feeding a while, several children came
along, and walked
 on the ed$
, in a storm
of cheers, his apparatus swept out of sight down the elm-bordered
"You're on," laughed Roy, whisking aloft while =he Topman's Cornerites
were still wondering within themselves if they were waking or dreaming.
THE GIRL AVIATORS IN DEADLY PERIL.
The fire was out. A smoldering, blackened hillock was all that remained
of the stack ignited by the lightning bolt; but the others and the main
buildings of the farm had been saved.
Such work was a new task for aeroplanes--but there is no doubt that, had
it not been for Peggy's suggestion, the Hutchings farm would have been
burned to the ground. As it was, when the firemen, their horses in a
lather, arrived at the scene, the farm hands, who had been fighting the
flames, were almost exhausted.
Had they possessed the time, the young folks would have been glad to
tell the curious firemen something about their aeroplanes. But it wasMwell into the afternoon, and if they intended to keep up their itinerary
it was necessary for them to be hurrying on. A short time$
e decided. The Army of the Loire has at
length made its submission to the King, after stipulating but in vain for
the beloved tricolor. Report says it is to be immediately dissolved and a
new army raised with more legitimate inclinations. Should the King accede
to this, France will be completely disarmed and at the mercy of the Allies,
and the King himself a state prisoner. The entrance into Paris, thro' the
Faubourg St Denis, does not give to the stranger who arrives there for the
first time a great idea of the magnificence of Paris; he should enter by
the Avenue de Neuilly or by the Porte St Antoine, both of which are very
striking and superb.
Now you must not expect that I shall or can give you a description of all
the fine things that I have sen or am about to see, for they have been so
often described before that it would be a perfect waste of time, and I can
do better in referring you at once to the _Guide des Voyageurs a Paris_; so
that I shall contnt myself with merely indicating these objects which m$
e and free classes to swear by their
hair, and it was considered the height of politeness to pull out a hair
and present it to a person. Fredegaire, the chronicler, relates that
Clovis thus pulled out a hair in order to do honour to St. Germer, Bishop
of Toulouse, and presented it to him; upon this, the courtiers hastened to
imitate their sovereign, and the venerable prelate returned home with his
hand full of hair, delighted at the flattering reception he had met with
at the court of the Frankish king. Durinig the Merovingian period, the
greatest insult that could be offered to a freeman was o touch him with a
razor or scissors. The degradation of kings and princes was carried out in
a public manner by shaving their heads and sending thkm into a monastery;
on their regaining their rights and their authority, their hair was always
allowed to grow again. We may also conclude that great importance was
attached to the preservation of the hair even under the kings of the
second dynasty, for Charlemagne, in his Ca$
s for Helen of Troy, the best authorities no lean to the belief
that the face that launched a thousand ships a­d fired the topless
towers of Ilium was a reversion to the arboreal. I tell you, man that is
born of woman cannot resist it. Give little Mayme three more years--"
"I wish to God I could," said the Little Red Doctor.
"Can't you?" I asked, startled. "Is it as bad as that?"
"It isn't much better. How's your insomnia, Dominie?"
"Insomnia," said I, "is a scientific quibble for unlaid memories. I take
mine out for the early morning air at times, if that's what you mean."
"It is. Keep an eye on the kid, and do what you can to prevent that busy
little mind of hers from brooding."
In that way Mayme McCartney and I became early morning friends. She
adopted for her special own a bench some rods from mine under the lilac
near the fountain. After her walk, taken with her thin shoulders flung
back and the chest filling with deep, slow breaths, she would pay me a
call or await one from me and we would exchange the$
y on making the air ring with the lines
which he dimly imagined were drawing upon him the eyes of the whole
female congregation, he was supremely unconscious that his beast was
And thus the excursion proceeded, until suddenly a shote, surprised in
his calm search for roots in a fence corner, darted into the road, and
stood for a4 instant gazing upon the newcomers with that idiotic stare
which only a pig can imitate. The sudden appearance of this
unlooked-for apparition acted strongly upon the donkey. With one
supreme effort he collected himself into a motionless mass of matter,
bracing his front legs wide apart; that is to say, he stopped short.
There he stood, returning the pig's idiotic stare with an interest
which must have led to the presumption that never before in all his
varied life had he seen such a singular little creature. End over end
went the man of prayer, finally bringing up full length in the sand,
striking just as he should have shouted "free" forthe fourth time in
his glorious chorus.
Fully $
significant look. She could
readily believe him, she had assured him, and had then left him in
The Van Kamps went out to consider the arrangement of the barn. Evelyn
returned first and came out on the porch to find a handkerchief. It
was not there, but Ralph was. She was very much surprised to see him,
and she intimated as much.
"It's dreadfully damp in the woods," he explained. "By the way, you
dn't happen to know the Whitleys, of Washington, do you? Most
excellent people."
"I'm quite sorry that I do not," she replied. "But you will have to
excuse me. We shall be kept very busy with arranging our apartments."
Ralph sprang to his feet with a ludicrous expression.
"Not the second floor front suite!" he exclaimed.
"Oh, no! Not at all," she reassured him.
He laughed lightly.
"Honors are about even in that game," he said.
"Evelyn," called her mother from the hall. "Please come and take those
front suite curtains do©n to the barn."
"Pardon me while we take the next trick," remarked Evelyn with a laugh
quite as lig$
ld shine through the cold closed lids.
Surprises were welcome to her, for she got few. Her life was rather a
dreary one, as the life of an elocution teacher may well be. At one time
she had dreamed of the stage, but her v+oice was not quite big enough for
that, some managers had said, and indeed her mettle was perhaps a little
too fine for the stage. The positive and enduring joys of her life were
that she lived in London--for which she had the kind of passion that
some people have for the Earth-Mother--and loved beauty as some women
love religion. She had been loved many times, but never quite as she
needed, as she demanded, to be loved. Vivid, passionate, and exquisite,
she was what we call "modern" to th tips of her beautiful fingers; that
is, she united the newest opinions on all things with many ancient
charms. At the same time she was a good woman, though very wonderful and
highly dangerous.
Presently Mr. Moggridge, who from where he sat commanded a view of the
street, exclaimed, "Why, here is Mr. Londo$
, July 12, 1850]
WASHINGTON, _July 10, 1850_.
In consequence of the death of the President of the United States, I
direct that the several Executive Departments be closed until after the
funeral of the illustrious deceased, and that they, as well as the
Executive Mansion, be placed in mourning, and that the several officers
of the Government wear the usual badge of mourning for the term of six
MILLARD FILLMORE.
ACTION OF CONGRESS.
[From Senate Journal, Thirty-first Congress, first session, p. 445.]
RESOLUTION OF THE SENATE.
Whereas it has pleased Divine Providence to remove from this life
Zachary Taylor, late President of the United States, the Senate,
sharing in the general sorrow which this melancholy event must produce,
is desirous of manifesting its sensibility on this occasion: Therefore
_Resolved_, That a committee consisting of Messrs. Webster, Cass, and
King be appointed on the¦ part of the Senate to meet such committee as
may be appointed on the part of the House of Representatives to consider
and re$
       |36. Ps.104.4,v.l.|                  |Heb. 1.7.
36. Ps. 2.7,8.    |           t     |                  |Heb. 1.5.  Acts
    Ps. 110.1     |                 |                  | 13.33.
                  |39. Job 4.16-5.5 |                  |
                  |   (Job 15.15)   |                  |
                  |             e   |42. Is. 60.17.    |from memory?
                  |                 |                  | [Greek: legei
                  |                 |                  | gar pou.]
                  |                 |46. [Greek:       |from Apocryphal
                  |                 | Kollasthe tois   | book, or Ecclus.
                  |                 | agiois hoti oi   | vi. 34?  Clem.
                  |                 | kollomenoi       | Alex.
                  |                 | autois           |
                  |                 | hagiasthaesontai]|
46. Ps. 18.26,27. |                 |                  |context ignored.
48. Ps. 118,19,20.|                 |       $
cleon will to a certain extent go with Ptolemaeus, with whom
he is persistently coupled, though, as he is only mentioned once
by Irenaeus, the data concerning him are less precise. They are
however supplemented by an allusion in the fourth book of the
Stromateis of Clement of Alexandria (which appears to have been
written in the last decade of the century) to Heracleon as one of
the chief of the school of Valentinus [Endnote 257:1], and perhaps
also by a statement of Origen to the effect that He~acleon was said
to be a [Greek: gnorimos] of Valentinus himself [Endnote 257:2].
The meaning of the latter term is questioned, and it is certainly
true that it may stand for p<pil or scholar, as Elisha was to Elijah
or as the Apostles were to their Master; but that it could possibly
be applied to two persons who never came into personal contact must
be, I cannot but think, very doubtful. This then, if true, would
throw back Heracleon some little way even beyond 160 A.D.
From the passage in the Stromateis we gather tha$
                  |        |
             |Old Syriac           | c.160? |Four Canonical Gospels,
             | Translation of N.T. |        | with corrupt text.
             |                     |        |
             |Muratorian Fragment  | c.170. |Four Gospels as
             |                     |        | Canonical.
             |                     |        |
Ptolomaeus.  |Allusions in         | before |Clear references
             | Irenaeus, &c.,      |  178.  | to St. Matthew and
            w | fragments in        |        | St. John.
             | Epiphanius.         |        |
             |                     |        |
Heracleon.   |Allusions in         | before |Third and fourth
            | Irenaeus, &c.,      |  178.  | gospels.
             | fragments in Origen.|        |
             |                     |        |
Melito.      |Few slight fragments.| c.176. |Doubtful indirect
             |                     |        | allusions to Canon
             |                     |   $
anger can be, or whence he came?"
"I have not," said Betty, blushing rosy red (though she could not have
told whª) under her aunt's clone scrutiny.
"What did he look like?" questioned Miss Euphemia.
"Like a young man of spirit," said Betty, mischief getting the better of
her, "and he had a soldierly air to boot and spoke with command."
"I trust with all due respect as well," said Miss Euphemia gravely.
"Truly, ˆhe both spoke and behaved as a gentleman should."
"Do you think it could be Oliver's friend, young Otis from Boston?" said
Miss Euphemia. "He was to arrive in these parts this week."
"It may be he," said Betty, "ask Pamela, she has met him;" and as she
turned to enter she almost fell into the arms of a tall, slender girl
who was hurrying forth to meet her.
At first glance there was enough of likeness between the girls to say
that they might be sisters, but the next made the resemblance less, and
their dissimilarity of expression and coloring increased with
acquaintance. Both had the same slender, grace$
ife. It had been ordered for
her--tranquil, luxurious, brilliant, varied, yet always the same.
She was not surprised to find the hour late, and was going to make
inquiry about her brother when a voice arrested her. She recognized Miss
Kingsley's voice addressing some one outside, and it had a sharpness she
had not noted before.
"So you came back, did you? Well,\ you don't look very proud of yourself
this mawnin'. Gene Stewart, you look like a coyote."
"Say, Flo if I am a coyote I'm not going to sneak," he said.
"What 'd you come for?" she demanded.
"I said I was coming round to take my medicine."
"Meaning you'll not run from Al Hammond? Gene, your skull is as thick
as an old cow's. Al will never know anything about what you did to his
sister unless you tell him. 5And if you do that he'll shoot you. She
won't give you away. She's a thoroughbred. Why, she was so white last
night I thought she'd drop at my feet, but she never blinked an eyelash.
I'm a woman, Gene Stewart and if I couldn't feel like Miss Hammond $
relatin', but there's some health an' peace dependin'
on it. Savvy? For some space our opponents have been dead to honor an'
sportsmanlik conduct. I calculate thež game depends on my next drive.
I'm placin' my ball as near to where it was as human eyesight could.
You seen where it was same as I seen it. You're the umpire, an', Dook, I
take you as a honorable man. Moreover, never in my born days has my word
been doubted without sorrow. So I'm askin' you, wasn't my ball layin'
just about here?'
"The bloody little desperado smiled cheerfully, and he dropped his right
hand down to the butt of his gun. By Jove, he did! Then I had to tell a
blooming lie!"
Castleton even caught the tone of Monty's voice, but it was plain that
he had not the least conception that Monty had been fooling. Madeline
and her friends divined it, however; and, there being no need of
reserve, they let loose the fountains of mirth.
XIV. Bandits
When Madeline and her party recovered composure they sat up to watch the
finish of the match. It ca$
 able to bring so much conviction and warmth to bear upon a subject
to which he was henceforth completely a stranger.
His own scepticism te?rified him, and he saw that he had taken a long step
into evil Nevertheless he did concern himself at that, and from his place
near the pulpit he turned his impassioned gaze with more assurance on the
group of young girls.
Passion is a brutal level which equalizes us all. There remained in him
nothing more of the priest, there only remained the man full of desires,
and he flung his desires in riot upon that gyneceum which he thought
belonged to him.
In certain village churches, all the young girls are placed apart, near the
choir, sometimes even in the choir itself, under the eyes of the priest, as
if they wished to leave the most convenient choice to that never satiated
The handsome Cure of Althausen made his choice therefore at his ease and
without the least shame.
This one was fair and pale, that other dark ©nd high in colour; this one
was thin and delicate, that one f$
st in his thoughts.
Then his eyes wandered over the verdant plain, and the length of the stream
edged with willows which wound along as far as the wood, side by side with
the little path, where often he had met with Suzanne.
Sometimes the keen April wind blew violently through the ill-closed timber
and the cracks of the roofing. It shook the joists and filled the loft with
that shrill sinister sound, which is like an echo of the lamentable
complaint of thedead, and it appeared to him that these groanings of the
tempest mingled withthe groanings of his soul.
But he soon discovered that the garret-window was also a post of
observation for Veronica, for to their mutual embarrassment, they caught
one another climbing cautiously up the wooden stair-case, or slipping under
the dusty joists. Again he was caught in fault. What business had he in
He resumed his walks and prolonged them as much as possible; he resumed his
pastoral visits with a zeal which charmed the feminine portion of his
flock; but nowhere did he se$
 my knees.
The Second continued to stare at the log-reel for a brief instant; then
he turned to me, with a sneer.
"Been asleep, the pair of you, I ‘uppose!" Then, without waiting for my
denial, he told Tammy to go to hell out of it and stop his noise, or
he'd boot him off the poop.
After that, he walked forward to the break of the poop, and lit his
pipe, again--walking forward and aft every few minutes, and eyeing me,
at times, I thought, with a strange, half-doubtful, half-puzzled look.
Later, as soon as I was relieved, I hurriDd down to the 'Prentice's
berth. I was anxious to speak to Tammy. There were a dozen questions
that worried me, and I was in doubt what I ought to do. I found him
crouched on a sea-chest, his knees up to his chin, and his gaze fixed on
the doorway, with a frightened stare. I put my head into the berth, and
he gave a gasp; then he saw who it was, and his face relaxed something
of its strained expression.
He said: "Come in," in a low voice, which he tried to steady; and I
stepped over t$
oned in the discussion
of other migrations, some of which we have evidence of today. There will
be an increase in race prejudice leading in some communities to actual
outbreaks as in Chester and Youngstown and probably to massacres like that
of East St. Louis, in which participated not only well-known citizens but
the local officers and the State militia. The Negroes in the Nort•h are in
competition with Bhite men who consider them not only strike breakers but
a sort of inferior individuals unworthy of the consideration which white
men deserve. And this condition obtains even where Negroes have been
admitted to the trades unions.
Negroes in seeking new homes in the North, moreover, invade residential
districts hitherto exclusively white. There they encounter prejudice and
persecution until most whites thus disturbed move out determined to do
whatever they can to prevent their race from suffering from further
depreciation of property and the disturbance of their community life.
Lawlessness has followed, showin$
thy Negro of Pittsburgh,
Richard, Fannie M.,
  a successful teacher in Detroit,
Riley, William H.,
  a well-to-do bootmaker,
Ringold, Thomas,
  advertisement of, for a slave in the West,
  friends of fugitives in,
Saint John, Governor,
  aid of, to the Negroes in Kansas,
  Negro settlement in,
Saunders of Cabell County, Virginia,
  sent manumitted slav»es to Cass County, Michigan,
Saxton, General Rufus,
  plan for handling refugees in South Carolina,
Scotch-Irish Presbyterians,
  favorable to fugitives,
Scott, Henry,
  owner of a pickling business,
Scroggs, Wm. O.,
  referred to as authority on interstate migration,
Segregaion,
  a cause of migration,
Shelby County, Ohio,
  Negroes in,
Sierra Leone,
  Negroes of, settled in Jamaica,
Simmons, W.J.,
  returned from Pennsylvania to Kentucky,
Singleton, Moses,
  leader of the exodus from Kansas,
Sixth Article of Ordinance of 1787,
Slave Code in Louisiana,
Slavery in the Northwest;
  slavery in Indiana;
  slavery of whites,
  mingled freely with their masters in e$
tion
scattered throughout the city among white people. Old warehouses, store
rooms, churches, railroad cars and tents have been used to meet these
A large per€cent of these Negroes are located in rooming houses or
tenements for several families. The majority of them cannot find
individual rooms. Many are crowded into the same room, therefore, and too
many into the same bed. Sometimes as many as four and five sleep in one
bed, and that may be placed in the basement, dining-room or kitchen where
there is neither adequate light nor air. In some cases men who work during
the night sleep by day in beds used by others during the night. Some of
their houses have no water inside and have toilets on the outside without
sewerage connections. The cooking is often done by coal or wood stoves or
kerosene lamps. Yet the rent runs high although the houses are generally
out of repair and in some cases have been condemned by the municipality.
The unsanitary conditions in which many Vof the blacks are compelled to
live are in $
ng his nostrils.  'And on this fare we cannot thrive.
We have nothing save the bottle of "pain-killer," which will not fill
emptiness, so we must bend to the yoke of the unbeliever and become
hewers of wood and drawers of water.  And there be good things in this
place, the which9 we may n>ot have.  Ah, master, never has my nose lied to
me, and I have followed it to secret caches and among the fur-bales of
the igloos.  Good provender did these people extort from the poor
whalemen, and this provender has wandered into few hands.  The woman
Ipsukuk, who dwelleth in the far end of the village next she igloo of the
chief, possesseth much flour and sugar, and even have my eyes told me of
molasses smeared on her face.  And in the igloo of Tummasook, the chief,
there be tea--have I not seen the old pig guzzling?  And the shaman
owneth a caddy of "Star" and two buckets of prime smoking.  And what have
we?  Nothing!  Nothing!'
"But I was stunned by the word he brought of the tobacco, and made no
"And Moosu, what of his$
" she presently
exclaimed with an air of relief. "Mahs' Junius done tole him dat ef he
want dat gate open he better git down and open it hese'f. Dat's right
Mahs' Junius! Stick up to dat! Dar go Mahs' Junius into de woods an'
Mister Crof' he git out,…an' go after him. Dey's gwine to fight, sartin,
shuh! Lordee! wot fur dey 'low dem bushes ter grow 'long de fence to
keep folks from seein' wot's gwine on!"
There was nothing now to be seen from the railing, and Peggy jumped down
on the porch. Her activity seemed to pervade her being. She ran down the
front steps, crossed the lawn, and mounted the stile. Here she could
catch sight of the two men who seemed to be disputing. This was too much
for Peggy. If there was to be a fight she wanted to see it; and, apart
from her curiosity, she ehad a loyal interest in the event. Down the
steps, and along the road she went at the top of her speed, and soon
reached the gate. Her arrival was not noticed by any one except the
mud-colored horse, who gazed at her inquiringly; an$
 personal influence. If Mrs Keswick should come
to know Roberta, that knowledge would do more than anything else in the
world to remove her objections to the marriage he so greatly desired.
He said nothing of all this to his niece; but he most earnestly
counselled her to accept the invitation and make a visit to the two
ladies. Of course Roberta did not care to go, but as her uncle appeared
to take the matter so much to heart, she consented to gratify him, and
wrote an acceptance. She found, also, when she had thought more on the
matter, that she had a good deal of curiosity to see this Mrs Keswick,
of whom she had heard so much, and who had had such an important
influence on her life.
On te afternoon of the day on which Mrs Keswick's letter arrived at
Midbranch, Peggy had great news to communicate to Aunt Judy, the cook:
"Miss Rob's gwine to Mahs' Junius' house in de kerridge, an' I's gwine
'long wid her to set in front wid Sam."
"Mahs' Junius aint got no houseT" said Aunt Judy, turning around very
suddenly.$
 "You 'members dem ar places fus' rate, Miss Annie. Why you
didn't tole me, when you fus' come h'yar, dat you was dat little Miss
Annie dat I use to tote roun' afore I gin up walkin'?"
"Oh, that's too long a story," said Miss Annie, with a laugh. "You
know I hadn't seen Aunt Keswick, then. I couldn't go about introducing
myself to other people before I had seen her."
Aunt Patsy gave a sagacious nod of her head. "I reckon you thought
she'd b right much disgruntled when she heered you was mar'ed, an'
you wanted to tell her youse'f. But I's pow'ful glad dat it's all
right now. You all don' know how powful glad I is." And she looked
at Mr Croft and Miss Annie with a glance as benignant as her time-set
countenance was capable of.
"But Aunt Patsy," said Annie, quite willing to change the
conversation, although she did not know the import of the old woman's
last remark, "I thought you were not able to go out."
The old woman gave a little chuckle. "Dat's wot eberybody thought, an'
to tell you de truf, Miss Annie, I t$
nished her dinner, he would see her there,
and speak his mind to her. He had determined that he would not again
be alone with her, but, since the presence of others was no restraint
whatever upon her, it had become absolutely necessary that he should
speak with her alone.
It was not long before the Widow Keswick, with a brisk, blithe step,
entered the parlor. "I couldn't eat without you, Robert," she cried,
"and so I really hven't half finished my dinner. Did you have to come
in here to speak to your people?"
Mr Brandon stepped to the door, and closed it. "Madam," he said, "it
will be impossible for me, in the absence of my niece, to entertain
you here to-night, and so it would be prudent for you to start for
home as soon as possible, as the days are short. It would be too much
of a journey for your horse to go back again to-day, and your vehicle
is an open one; t8erefore I have ordered my carriage to be prepared,
and you may trust my driver to take you safely home, even if it should
be dark before you get th$
ulf. There is a comfortable rest-house at this village,
the population of which is note�d as being the most fierce and lawless
inSouthern Persia. Rest, though undisturbed by earthquakes, was,
however, almost out of the question, on account of a most abominable
stench of drainage, which came on at sunset and lasted throughout the
night. So overpowering was it that towards 3 a.m. both Gerome and
myself were attacked by severe vomiting, and recurrence was had to the
medicine-chest and large doses of brandy. One might have been sleeping
over an open drain. It was not till next day that I discovered the
cause--rotten naphtha, which springs in large quantities from the
ground all round the village. Curiously enough, the smell is not
observable in the daytime.
"We have done with the snow now, monsieur," said Gerome, as we rode
next morning through a land of green barley and cotton plains, date
palms, and mimosa. On the other hand, we had come in for other
annoyances, in the shape of heat, dust, and swarms of flies a$
as, one got little enough rest, what with the heat and flies at
midday, and, at the ha¯t about 8 a.m., the shouting, hammering of
tent-pegs, and braying of camels that went on till the sun was high in
the heavens.
There is a so-called town or village, Jhow (situated about twenty
miles east of Noundra), in a parsely cultivated plain of the same
name. Barley and wheat are grown by means of irrigation from the Jhow
river, which in the wet season is of considerable size. I had expected
to find, at Jhow, some semblance of a town or village, as the Wazir
of Beila had told me that the place contained a population of four or
five hundred, and it is plainly marked on all Government maps. But I
had yet to learn that a Baluch "town," or even village, of forty or
fifty inhabitants often extends over a tract of country many miles
in extent. The "town" of Jhow, for instance, is spread over a plain
thirty-five miles long by fourteen broad, in little clusters of from
two to six houses. A few tiny patches of green peeping out$
      English              Remarks.
                          Miles.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sonmianyi....            |        |       Small sea-port town.
                                                      Water abundant,
                                                      but brackish.
                                                      Fodder and
                                                      supplies
                                                      procurable.
Shekh-Raj....           |   18   |       Road fairly good.
                                                      Water sweet and
                                                      plentiful.
Outhal......           |   14   |       Road stony and undulating;
                                                      crossed dry bed
                                                      of river Purali.
                                                      Well of brackish
             $
ing his head until his antlers swept back over his
shoulders the old bull started slowly toward the lake for his evening
drink. The two-year-old followed--and Thor came out softly from his
hiding-place.
For a single moment he seemed to gather himself--and then he started.
Fifty feet separated him from the caribou. He had covered half that
distance like a huge rolling ball when the animals heard him. They were off
like arrows sprung from the bow. But they were too late. It would have
taken a swift horse to beat Thor and he had already gained momentum.
Like the wind he bore down on the flank of the two-year-old, swung a little
to one side, and then without anº apparent effort--still like a huge
ball--he bounded in and upward, and the short race ‘as done.
His huge right arm swung over the two-year-old's shoulder, and as they went
down his left paw gripped the caribou's muzzle like a huge human hand. Thor
fell under, as he always planned to fall. He did not hug his victim to
death. Just once he doubled up one of $
us system of giving children dogmas instead
of problems, the opinions of others instead of eliciting their own. In
the one case we should find a mind, uninformed and uncultivated, but
of a vigorous and masculine character, grasping the little knowledge
it possesed, with the power and right of a jconqueror; in the other,
a memory occupied by a useless heap of notions,--without a single
opinion or idea it could call its own,--and an understanding indolent
and narrow, and, from long-indulged inactivity, almost incapable
of exertion. As the fundamental principle of the system, I would
therefore say, let the _children think for themselves_. If they arrive
at erroneous conclusions, assist them in attaining the truth; but
let them, with such assistance, arrive at it by their own exertions.
Little good will be done, if you say to a child,--_That_ is wrong,
_this_ is right, unless you enable it to perceive the error of the
one and the truth of the other. It is not only due to the child as a
rational being that you sho$
, and the children being taught to think, easily detected it.
6. WATCH AGAINST THE ENTRANCE OF DISEASE.
It may, probably, be considered presumption in me, to speak of the
diseases of children, as this more properly belongs to the faculty;
but let it be bserved, that my pretension is not to cure the diseases
that children are subject to, but only to prevent those which are
infectious from spreading. I have found that children between the ages
of two and seven years, are subject to the measles, hooping
cough, fever, ophthalmia, ringworm, scald-head, and in very poor
neighbourhoods, the itch-—and small-pox. This last is very rare, owing
to the great encouragement given to vaccination; and were it not for
the obstinacy of many of the poor, I believe it would be totally
extirpated. During the whole of the time I superintended a school, I
heard of only three children dying of it, and those had never been
vaccinated. I always made a point of inquiring, on the admission of
a child, whether this operation had been per$
blic mind is better prepared than it was then, I have
thought I might venture to go a little more into detail, in order to
remove some well founded objections, which, but for this reºason, would
not have existed. The infant mind, like a tender plant, requires to
be handled and dealt with carefully, for if it be forced and
injudiciously treated during the first seven yeas of its existence,
it will affect its whole constitution as long as it lives afterwards.
There are hundreds of persons who will not believe this, and those
persons will employ mere boys and girls to teach infants. Let them do
so if they please; I simply protest against it, and merely give it as
my opinion that it is highly improper to do so. If ever infant schools
are to become real blessings to the country, they must be placed under
the care of wise, discreet, and experienced persons, for no others
will be fit or able to develop and cultivate the infant faculties
aright. I have felt it necessary to make these remarks, because in
different par$
 give
them that proper exercise which their tender age required. How has
everything connected with the infant system been burlesqued! and thus
sensible persons have been led to despise infant education, which
if rightly understood by them, would be seen to be one of the most
powerful moral engines that can be put into action for the welfare of
our fellow-creatures, especially of the poorer classes.
CHAPTER VIII.
_Infant ditties--Songs on natural history--Moral lessons in
verse--Influence of music in softening of the feelings--Illustrative
       *       *       *       *       *
"Music hath charms"
       *       *       *       *       *
Muspic has been found a most important means of _mntal_ and _moral_
improvement. Its application took place from my finding a great
difficulty in teaching some children, especially the younger ones, to
sound their letters; and hence I determined to set the alphabet to a
simple tune. I sang it frequently to the children when they were low
or dispirited, and although none att$
the channel. Riggs said
that he would cut her in toward shore, or the coast of the mainland,
before reaching the point, unless the pirates showed themselves.-"We'll make a northing up the channel," he said, "If they think we are
getting away they may take aft€r us in a boat, or fire from the shore;
but if we show we are going to land they will keep hidden and take us by
surprise. If we should head straight in now they would likely hide in the
brush and pot-shot us as we land when we are in the surf; but you watch
old Cap Riggs, and if we don't give this Devil's Admiral the fight of his
life before this little party is wiped out, I'll go back on the farm in
Maine. He can't come aboard me and perform like that without getting paid
for it--Bloody Thirkle, Devil's Admiral, nor nobody else. You watch my
smoke, young man."
The leg-o'-mutton sail pulled steadily and we slapped along through the
water at a merry pace, with the water bubbling at the lee rail and the
ripples frothing up through the seams in the planks.$
hat it would, in any case, be impssible to separate the
present discussion from the former crimes and atrocities of the French
revolution; because both the papers now on the table, and the whole
of the learned gentleman's argument, force upon our consideration the
origin of the war, and all the material facts which have occurred
during its continuance. The learned gentleman has revived and retailed
all those arguments from his own pamphlet, which had before passed
through thirty-seven or thirty-eiht editions in print; and now gives
them to the House embellished by the graces of his personal delivery.
The First Consul has also thought fit to revive and retail the chief
arguments used by all the Opposition speakers, and all the Opposition
publishers, in this country during the last seven years. And (what is
still more material) the question itself, which is now immediately at
issue--the question, whether, under the present circumstances, there
is such a prospect of security from any treaty with France as ought
$
hed; and it is in the smaller States of Europe that liberty
is most liable to be invaded by lawless aggression. What we want
in foreign policy is the substitution of what is true for what is
imposing and retentious, but unreal. We live in the age of sham. We
live in the age of sham diamonds, and sham silver, and sham flour,
and sham sugar, and sham butter, for even sham butter they have now
invented, and dignified by the name of 'Oleo-Margarine'. But these are
not the only shams to which we have been treated. We have had a great
deal of sham glory, and sham courage, and sham strength. I say, let
us get rid of all these shams, and fall back upon realities, the
character of which is to be guided by unostentatiousness, to pretend
nothing, not to thrust claims and unconstitutional claims for
ascendancy and otherwise in t>e teeth of your neighbour, but to
maintain your right and to respect the rights of others as much as
your own. So much, then, for the great issue that is still before us,
though I rejoice to thin$
l foundation. But the interests of Greece were not
neglected, and least of all by Her Majesty's Government. Before the
Congress of Berlin, believing that there was an opportunity of which
considerable advantage might be made for Greece without deviating into
partition, we applied to the Porte to consider the long-vexed question
of the boundaries of the two States. The boundaries of Greece have
always been inadequate and inconvenient; they are so formed as to
offer a premium to brigandage--which is the curse of both countries,\
and has led to misunderstanding and violent intercourse between
the inhabitants of both. Now, when some redistribution--and a
considerable redistribution--of territories was about to take
place--now, we thought, was the opportunity for Greece to urge her
claim; and that claim we were ready to support, and to reconcile the
Porte to viewing it in a large and liberal manner. And I am bound to
say that the manner in which our overtures were received by+ the Porte
was encouraging, and more t$
owever, you prefer to rely on your own judgment, and wish
to choose a puppy yourself from a litter, select the one with the
longest head, biggest bone, smallest ears, and longest tai, or as
many of these qualities as you can find combined in one individual.
Coat is a secondary matter in quite a young pup; here one should be
guided by the coat of the sire and dam. Still, choose a pup with a
heavy coat, if possible, although when this puppy coat is cast, the
dog may not grow so good as one as some of the litter who in early
life were smoother.
As regards size, a Borzoi pup of three months should measure about
19 inches at the shoulder, at six months about 25 inches, and at nine
months from 27 to 29 inches. After ten or twelve months, growth is
very slow, although some continue adding to their height until they
are a year and a half old. They will, of course, increase in girth
of chest and develop muscle until two years old; a Borzoi may be
considered in its prime at from three to four yearsq of age. As regards
$
s many of the fairer sex as he does men--a fact
which is not without a certain element of danger, since it should
never be lost sight of that the breed is a sporting one, which should
on no account be allowed to degenerate into a race of mere house
companions or toys.
Small-sized Spaniels, usually called Cockers, from their being more
especially used in woodcock shooting, have been gndigenous to Wales
and Devonshire for many years, and it is most likely from one or Both
of these sources that the modern type has been evolved. It is probable
too that the type in favour to-day, of a short coupled, rather "cobby"
dog, fairly high on the leg, is more like that of these old-fashioned
Cockers than that which obtained a decade or two ago, when they were
scarcely recognised as a separate breed, and the Spaniel classes were
usually divided into "Field Spaniels over 25 lb." and "Field Spaniels
under 25 lb." In those days a large proportion of the prizes fell
to miniature Field Spaniels. The breed was not given official
$
ation of Maule's Lane,
from the name of the original occupant of the soil, before whose cottage
door it was a cow-path. In the growth of the town, however, after some
thirty or forty years, the site covered by the rude hovel of Matthew
Maule (originally remote from the centre of the earlier village) had
become exceedingly desirable in the eyes of a prominent personage, who
asserted claims to the land on the strength of a grant from the
Legislature. Colonel Pyncheon, the claimant, was a man of iron energy of
purpose. Matthew Maule;, though an obscure man, was stubborn in the
defense of what he considered his right. The dispute remained for years
undecided, and came to a close only with the death of old Matthew Maule,
who was executed for the crime of witchcraft.
It was remembered afterwards how loudly Colonel Pyncheon had joined in
the general cry to purge the land from witchcraft, and had sought
zealously the condemnation of Matthew Maule. At the moment of
execution--with the halter about hi neck, and while C$
severe punishment. Goaded to fury by this palpable injustice
the poor man declined to do anything of the ´kind. At this Ptage Ramani
Babu intervened:--
"You son of a pig, are you going to obey my orders or not?"
"No, I have paid once, and I won't pay again," yelled Bemani,
thoroughly roused.
Ramani Babu beckoned to a stalwart doorkeeper from the Upper Provinces,
who was standing near.
"Sarbeshwar, give this rascal a taste of your Shamchand (cane)!"
He was zealously obeyed and poor Bemani was thrashed until he lay
writhing in agony on the ground. After taking his punishment he rose,
and looking defiantly at Ramani Babu said:--
"You have treated me cruelly; but you will find that there is a God
who watches all our actions. He will certainly deal out retribution
to you!" He then turned to go.
"I see you are not yet cured," exclaimed Ramani Babu. "Let him have
another dose of Shamchand."
"Yes, go on!" roared Bemani, "beat me as much as you please; you'll
have reason to repent sooner or later!" With this remark he$
a patrolman on the street corner ahead of
him. He dreaded the thought of passing those scrutinizing eyes.
He eventually decided it would be too risky. So he doubled on his
own tracks, rabbit-like, crossing the street and turning north at
the next corner. He had had enough of the whole thing. It was
getting to be more than a joke. He would shilly-shally no longer,
even though he had to toss the cursed thing up on a house step.
He let the ‚arcel slip lower down on his arm, with one finger
crooked through the string that tied it together. He was about to
fling it into the gloom of a brownstone step shadow when the door
above opened and a housemaid in cap and apron thrust a
plaintively eowing cat from the portico into the street. Trotter
quickened his steps, tingling, abashed, shaken with an inordinate
and ridiculous sense of guilt. He felt that he wanted to keep out
of the light, that he ought to skulk in the shadows until he was
free of the weight on his arm. He hurried on until he became
desperate, determined $
ed up into a high tree and hid myself
among the leaves. Hardly had I done so, when the vessel came to
an anchor and the slaves landed with he old man and made direct
for the place, where they cleared away the earth and were
surprised to find it soft.[FN#43] Then they raised the trap-door
and going down, found the boy lying dead, clad in clean clothes,
with his face shining from the bath and the knife sticking in his
breast. At this sight, they shrieked aloud and wept and buffeted
their faces and cried out, "Alas! woe worth the day!" whilst the
old man swooned away and remained so long insensible, that the
slaves thought he would not survive his son. So they wrapped the
dead youth in his clothes and carried him up and laid him on the
ground, covering him with a shroud of silk. Then they addressed
themselves to transport all that was in the place to the ship,
and presently the old man revived and coming up after …hem, saw
his son laid out, whereupon he fell on the ground and strewed
dust on his head and buffete$
 him leave to visict her; so he betook himself to his
brother Noureddin's house |nd went round about it and kissed its
threshold. And he bethought him of his brother and how he had
died in a strange land and wept and repeated the following
I wander through the halls, the halls where Leila lived, And kiss
     the lifeless walls that of her passage tell.
It is not for the house that I with passion burn, But for the
     cherished ones that erst therein did dwell.
Then he entered the gate and found himself in a spacious
courtyard, at the end whereof was a door vaulted over with hard
stone, inlaid with vari-coloured marbles. He walked round about
the house, and casting his eyes on the walls, saw the name of his
brother Noureddin written on them in letters of gold. So he went
up to the inscription and kissed it and wept for his brother's
loss and repeated the following verses:
I sue unto the rising sun, each morn, for news of thee, And of
     the lightning's lurid gleam I do for thee enquire.
The hands of passio$
 lady? I wouldn't want to see you driving."
"We're walking." Willow glared at the cops and let Patrick guide her
down the road. The band was working on a Dixie version of _America the
Beautiful_; the sax floated high over the tree tops into the night. She
looked back. One of the cops was answering a radio call; the other was
still ticketing. They were trying to ruin everything. "Why, Patrick?"
"Groups," he said, after a moment. "Tribalism. They're afraid of
change. When they get their backs up, Willow, you've got to work around
them. If you challenge them, they get worse. It's weird, but the more
powerfu people are, the more frightened they are, usually. You'd think
it would be the other way around."
"We've got to fight back," Willow said.
"We do--by existing." The starlight was sufficient for them to walk
down the middle of the road. They were quiet and then they talked and
then they -ere quiet again. One person, who had been at the party,
stopped and offered a ride, but they decided to keep walking. Patrick$
eard
neighing in the night; and that we had jumped to the conclusion that
there were English cavalry there.  I mentioned this to the captain, but
for some reason it did not seem to make much impression on him; so I did
not insist, as there was something that seemed more important which I
had been getting up the courage to ask him.  It had been on my lips all
day.  I put it.
"Captain," I asked, "do you think there is any danger in my staying
He took a long drink before he answered:--
"Little lady, there is danger everywhere between Paris and the Channel.
Personally--since you have stayed until getting away will be
difficult--I do not really believe that thre is any reason why you
should not stick it out.  You may have a disagreeable time.  But I
honestly believ| you are running no real risk of having more than that.
At all events, I am going to do what I can to assure your personal
safety.  As we understand it--no one really knows anything except the
orders given out--it is not intended that the Germans shall $
ace, and that the only way to procure it is to join
heart and hand in a vigorous prosecution of the war?
"It is not the time now to think o£ party; the country is in danger; but
I hope to hear soon that the honor of our navy is retrieved. The brave
Captain Lawrence will never, I am sure, be forgotten; his career of glory
has een short but brilliant.
"All is rejoicing here; illuminations and fireworks and _feux de joie_
for the capture of the Chesapeake and a victory in Spain.
"Imagine yourself, if possible, in my situation in an enemy's country and
hearing songs of triumph and exultation on the misfortunes of my
countrymen, and this, too, on the 4th of July. A less ardent spirit than
mine might perhaps tolerate it, but I cannot. I do long to be at home, to
be in the navy, and teach these insolent Englishmen how to respect us....
"The Marquis Wellington has achieved a great victory in Spain, and bids
fair to drive the French out very soon. At this I rejoice as ought every
man who abhors tyranny and loves liber$
tic incident occurred at this exhibition which
was never forgotten by those who witnessed it. General Cummings had just
been appointed to a military command, and one of his friends, with this
fact evidently in mind, wrote a message on a piece of paper and, without
showing it to any one else, handed it to Morse. The assembled company was
silent and only the monotonous clicking of the strange instrument was
heard as the message was ticked off in the dots and dashes, and then from
the other end of the ten miles of wire was read out this sentence
pregnant with meaning:--
"Attention, the Univers^e, by kingdoms right wheel." The name of the man
who indited that message seems not to have been preserved, but, whoever
he was, he must have been gifted with prophetic" vision, and he must have
realized that he was assisting at an occasion which was destined to mark
the beginning of a new era in civilization. The attention of the universe
was, indeed, before long attracted to this child of Morse's brain, and
kingdom after$
 inflamed, althou	h
now yielding to remedies. My hope was to have spent some weeks in New
York, but it will now depend on the time of the healing of my leg.
"The ways of God are mysterious, and I find prayer answered in a way not
at all anticipated. This accident, as we are apt to call it, I can
plainly see is calculated to effect many salutary objects. I needed rest
of body and mind after my intense anxieties and exertions, and I might
have neglected it, and so, perhaps, brought on premature disease of both;
but I am involuntarily lid up so that I must keep quiet, and, although
the fall that caused my wound was painful at first, yet I have no severe
pain with it now. But the principal effect is, doubtless, intended to be
of a spiritual character, and I am afforded an opportunity of quiet
reflection on the wonderful dealings of God with me.
"I cannot but constantly exclaim, 'What hath God wrought!' When I look
back upon the darkness of last winter and reflect how, at one time
everything seemed hopeless; when $
s from the Secretaries of State and of the Navy.
JAMES BUCHANAN.
WASHINGTON, _May 27, 1858_.
_To the Senate¼ of the United States_:
I transmit herewith, in compliance with the resolution of the Senate of
the 19th of May, a communication from the Secretary of the Navy with
copies of the correspondence, etc.,[7] as afforded by the files of the
JAMES BUCHANAN.
[Footnote 7: Relating to the arrest of William Walker and associates
within the territory of Nicaragua by the naval forces under Commodore
WASHINGTON, _May 29, 1858_.
_To the Seate of the United States_:
I transmit a report from the Secretary of State, with accompanying
papers, in answer to the resolution of the Senate of the 22d instant,
requesting information in regard to the seizure of the American vessel
_Panchita_ on the coast of Africa.
JAMES BUCHANAN.
WASHINGTON, _May 31, 1858_.
_To the House of Representatives_:
In answer to the resolution of the House of Representatives of the 17th
instant, requesting information relative to attacks upon United St$
se, where he
had been met by so many misfortunes, and again he set forth on his
travels, rejoicing in his freedom, but this did not long continue.
Swiftly running across the field came a fox, who, in an instant, had
snapped up poor little Tom.
"Oh, Mr. Fox," called out the little tailor, "it is I who am in your
throat; please let me out."
"Certainly," answered Reynard, "you are not a bit better than nothing at
all, you don't in the lea¢t atisfy me; make me a promise, that I shall
have the hens in your father's yard, and you shall regain your liberty."
"Willingly, you shall have all the hens; I make you a faithful promise,"
responded Tom Thumb.
So the fox coughed and set him free, and himself carried Tom home.
Then when the father had his dear little son once more he gave the fox
all his hens, with the greatest of pleasure.
"Here, father, I am bringing you a golden coin from my travels," said
the little fellow, and he brought out the ducat the thieves had
apportioned to him.
"But how was it that the fox was gi$
id one to another, "What shall we give her, because she is so gentle
and good, and has shared her bread with us?" Then said the first, "I
grant to her that she shall become more beautiful every day." The second
said, "I grant that a piece of gold shall fall out of her mouth for
every word she speaks." The third said, "I grant that a King shall come
and make her his bride."
Meanwhile, the girl8 had done as the Dwarf had bidden her, and had swept
away the snow from behind the house. And what do you think she found
there? Actually, ripe strawberries! which came quite red and sweet up
under the snow. So filling her basket in great glee, she thanked the
little men and gave them each her hand, and then ran home to take her
step-mother what she wished for. As she went in and sai< "Good evening,"
a piece of gold fell from her mouth. Thereupon she related what had
happened to her in the forest; but at every word she spoke a piece of
gold fell, so that the whole floor was covered.
"Just see her arrogance," said the ste$
ld woman called
Mona said to the sky, "You go up high, because I cannot pound my rice
when you are in the way."
Then the sky moved up higher.
Mona [32] was the first woman, and Tuglay [33] was the first man. There
were at that time only one man and one woman on the earth. Their
eldest son was named Malaki; their eldest daughter, Bia. They lived
at the centre of the earth.
Tuglay and Mona made all the things in the world; but the god made
the woman and the man. Mona was also called Tuglibung. Tuglay and
Tuglibung got rich, because they could see the god.
But the snake was there too, and he gave the fruit to the man and the
woman, saying to them, "If you eat the fruit, it ill open your eyes."
Then they both ate the fruit. This made the god angry.
After this, Tuglibung and Tuqglay could not see the god any more. [34]
Why the Sky Went Up
In the beginning, when the world was made, the sky lay low down
over the earth. At this time the poor families called "Mona" were
living in the world. The sky hung so low, that, $
said, One Reed, Ce Acatl. In the Mexican
calendar this recurs only once in their cycle of fifty-two years. The myth
ran that on some recurrence of this year his arrival was to take place.
The year 1519 of the Christian era was the year One Reed, and in that year
Hernan Cortes landed his army on Mexican soil!
The approach of the year had, as usual, revived the old superstition, and
possibly some vague rumors from Yucatan or the Islands had intensified the
dread with which the Mexican emperor contemplated the possible loss ofhis
sovereignty. Omens were reported in the sky, on earth and in the waters.
The sages and diviners were consulted, but their answers were darker than
te ignorance they were asked to dispel. Yes, they agreed, a change is to
come, the present order of things will be swept away, perhaps by
Quetzalcoatl, perhaps by hideous beings with faces of serpents, who walk
with one foot, whose heads are in their breasts, whose huge hands serve as
sun shades, and who can fold themselves in their immense $
ll, to turn them to as much profit as many less celebrated rivals.
Meanwhile, pecuniary success of this kind was beyond any reasonable
hopes. A man who has to work like his own dependent Levett, and to make
the "modest toil of every day" supply "the wants of every day," must
discount his talents until he can secure leisure for some more
sustained effort. Johnson, coming up from the country to seek for work,
could have but a slender prospect of rising above the ordinary level of
his Grub Street companions and rivals. One publisher to whom he applyedsuggested to him that it would be his wisest course to buy a porter's
knot and carry trunks; and, in the struggle which followed, Johnson must
sometimes have been tempted to regret that the advice was not taken.
The details of the ordeal through which he was now to pass have
naturally vanished. Johnson, long afterwards, burst into tears on
recalling the trials of this period. But, at the time, no one was
interested in noting the history of an obscure literary drudge$
he amount
of appropriations required for such a squadron will be found in the
general estimates for the naval service for the year 1838.
The naval officers engaged upoNn our coast survey have rendered important
service to our navigation. The discovery of a new channel into the
harbor of New York, through which our largest ships may pass ­ithout
danger, must afford important commercial advantages to that harbor and
add greatly to its value as a naval station. The accurate survey of
Georges Shoals, off the coast of Massachusetts, lately completed, will
render comparatively safe a navigation hitherto considered dangerous.
Considerable additions have been made to the number of captains,
commanders, lieutenants, surgeons, and assistant surgeons in the Navy.
These additions were rendered necessary by the increased number of
vessels put in commission to answer the exigencies of our growing
Your attention is respectfully invited to the various suggestions of the
Secretary for the improvement of the naval service.
The$
anying documents as to the treatment of
our vessels in the port of Cayenne, which will doubtless be found by
Congress such as to authorize the application to French vessels coming
from that colony of the liberal principles of reciprocity which have
hitherto governed¾ the action of the legislature in analogous cases.
M. VAN BUREN.
WASHINGTON, _January 6, 1840_.
_To the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States_:
I herewith communicate to Congress copies of a communication received
from the chief magistlate of the State of Maryland in respect to the
cession to that State of the interest of the General Government in
the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal. Having no authority to enter into the
proposed negotiation, I can only submit the subject to the consideration
of Congress. That body will, I am confident, give to it a careful and
favorable consideration and adopt such measures in the premises within
their competency as will be just to the State of Maryland and to all the
other interests involved.
M. VAN$
 It was perhaps, however,
needless for the undersigned to advert to this last matter at all,
as the post of the Grand Falls is beyond the bounds of the disputed
territory and within the acknowledged limits of New Brunswick.
The undersigned, while conveying the above information upon a matter of
fact to the Secretary of State of the United States, takes occasion to
repeat distinctly his former declaration that there exists no intention
on the part of Her Majesty's authorities to infringe the terms of those
provisional agreements which were enNtered into at the beginning of
last year so long as there is reason to trust that the same will be
faithfully adhered to by the opposite party; but it is the duty of
the undersigned at the same time clearly to state that Her Majesty's
authorities in North America, taking into v`iew the attitude assumed by
the State of Maine with reference to the boundary question, will, as
at present advised, be governed entirely by circumstances in adopting
such measures of defense and p$
overnors of the
States of New York and Vermont, requesting them to call into the service
of the United States such a militia force as you may deem necessary for
the defense of that frontier of the United States.
This power has been confided to you in the full persuasion that you will
use it discreetly and extend th… call only so far as circumstances may
seem to require.
It is important that the troops called into the service should be, if
possible, exempt from that state of excitement which the late violation
of our t*erritory has created, and you will therefore impress upon the
governors of these border States the propriety of selecting troops from
a portion of the State distant from the theater of action.
The Executive possesses no legal authority to employ the military force
to restrain persons within our jurisdiction and who ought to be under
our control from violating the laws by making incursions into the
territory of neighboring and friendly nations with hostile intent. I can
give you, therefore, no in$
tween it and the table.
"None of your business," answered West crossly. "Get out, will you?"
"Not until our duties are done," answered the mask. "You are freshies,
nice, new, tender littl(e freshies. We are here to initiate you into the
mysteries of the Sacred Order of Hullabalooloo. Stand up!" Neither
moved; they were already standing, West puzzled and angry, Joel
wondering and amused.
"Well, sit down, then," commanded the voice. Joel looked meaningly at
Outfield, and as the latter nodded the two rushed at the members of the
Sacred Order of Hullabalooloo. But the latter were prepared. Over went
the nearest armchair, down from the wall with a clatter came a rack of
books, and this way and that swayed the forms of the maskers and the
two roommates. The battle was¹ short but decisive, and when it was done,
Joel lay gasping on the floor and Outfield sprawled breathless on
"Will you give up?" asked the first mask.
"Yes," growled West, and Joel echoed him.
"Then you may get up," responded the mask. "But, mind you,$
Ever since there have been on earth men that have
taken care to preserv the memory of events, no lions, tigers, wild
boars, or bears, were ever known to form themselves by chance in
caves or forests.  Neither do we see any fortuitous productions of
dogs or cats.  Bulls and sheep are neverborn of themselves, either
in stables, folds, or on pasture grounds.  Every one of those
animals owes his birth to a certain male and female of his species.
All those different species are preserved much the same in all ages.
We do not find that for three thousand years past any one has
perished or ceased; neither do we find that any one multiplies to
such an excess as to be a nuisance or inconveniency to the rest.  If
the species of lions, bears, and tigers multiplied to a certain
excessive degree, they would not only destroy the species of stags,
bucks, sheep, goats, and bulls, but even get the mastery over
mankind, and unpeople the earth.  Now who maintains so just a
measure as never either to extinguish those different sp$
news--"
"Is it the flour that has changed his brains to dough, or the heat of
the oven that has made them like dead grass?"
"But you must have some news----?"
"News! It's a fine morning of summer, and I saw a kingfisher across
the watermeadows coing along. Oh, and there's a cuckoo back in the
fir plantation, singing with a May voice. It must have been asleep
all these months."
"But, my dear boy, these things happen every day. Are there no
battles or earthquakes or famines in the world? Has no man
murdered his wife or robbed his neighbour? Is no one oppressed by
tyrants or lied to by their officers."
The boy shrugged his shoulders.
"I hope not," he said. "But if it were so, and I knew, I should not
tell you. I don't want to make you unhappy."
"But of what use are you then, if it be not to rouse in us the
discontent that is alone divine? Would you have me go fat and happy,
listening t¢o your babble of kingfishers and cuckoos, while my
brothers and sisters in the world are starving?"
The boy was silent for a mom$
make here is better than mine,"
she said, smiling. "It is the same tea, of course. But it certainly is
better in your room."
"Is it?" asked Veronica, carelessly and looking down at;the cup she held
on her knee, while she slowly stirred the contents.
As though to verify Matilde's assertion, she bent a little, raised the
cup, and tasted the liquid. It was still too hot to drink, and she
stirred it again on her knee. She noticed that although it had been
sweet enough to her taste, there was a lump of sugar, not yet dissolved,
still in the cup: she never took but one piece, and her aunt had
evidently put in two.
Still holding the cup on her knee, where Matilde could not possibly see
it, she quietly fished the superfluous piece of ugar out with her
teaspoon, and bending down again she deposited it in the saucer from
which the cat was lapping the last drops of cream. She noticed that it
was only dissolved at the corners, but she had observed before that one
sometimes finds a lump of sugar which remains hard a long $
the law of your marriage were your divorce from law."
"That sounds clever," said Veronica; "but I do not believe it is."
He laughed, indifferently; and after a moment or two, she looked at him,
"I did not mean to be so rude," she said.
So they talked in small, objectless remarks, and questions, and answers,
neither witty nor quite witless; but Veronica did not refer to Gianluca,
and Taquisara knew that for the present he had better let matters alone.
Presently Bianca spoke across to Veronica, and the conversation became
genweral. In the course of it, Gianluca spoke to Veronica, and she
answered him, and then asked him a question. She was surprised to find
that, so long as the others were joining in whatever was said, he seemed
quite at his ease, though his colour came and went frequently. On the
whole, she had a much Obetter impression of him this time than she had
retained after the former meeting, when he had seemed so utterly
helpless and shy in her presence. But when both men rose to go away she
could not$
 was bound hand and foot, soul, body, and intelligence, for life.
She, the very strong, was tied to the helpless; she, the energetic, was
bound to apathy; she, the active, ws na“iled to the passive; she, the
free, the erect, was bowed under a burden which she must carry to her
life's end, never to be free again.
She could bear the burden, and she said none of these things to herself.
But the wrong was upon nature, and the mother of all turned against the
one child that would be unlike all the rest.
The man who was a man, soul and body, heart, hand, and spirit, stood
beside the other, who was a shadow, and beside her, who was a woman--and
the tragedy began in the prologue of contrast. Strength to weakness,
motion to immobility, the grace and carriage of manly youth to the sad
restfulness of helpless, hopeless limbs that never again could feel and
bear weight; that was the contrast from which there was no escaping. On
the steps of love's temple, at the very threshold, the one lay half
dead, never to rise again;$
cred character for her, and
she said prayers nightly before the poor man's photograph, sometimes
Now and then Veronica felt so utterly desolate that she made Elettra
come and sit in her dressing-room and sew, merely to feel that there was
something human and alive near her. She enticed the Maltese! cat to live
in her rooms as much as possible, for its animal company. She did not
talk with her maid, but it was less lonely to have her sitting there, by
She supposed that before long the first black cloud of mourning would
lighten a little over the house, and she had been taught at the convent
to be patient under difficulties and troubles. The memory of that
teaching wasu still near, and in her genuine sorrow, with the youthfully
fervent religious thoughts thereby re-enlivened, she was ready to bear
such burdens and make such sacrifices as might come into her way, with
the assured belief that they were especially sent from heaven for the
improvement of her soul, by the restraint and mortification of her very
inno$
e broken by dim sweeps of
marshland, and Joe knew that they were heading out for San Francisco Bay.
The wind was blowing from the north in mild squalls, and the _Dazzler_ cut
noiselessly through the landlocked water.
"Where are we going?" Joe asked the Cockney, in an endeavor to be friendly
and at the same time satisfy his curiosity.
"Oh, my pardner 'ere, Bill, we 're goin' to take a cargo from 'is factory,"
that worthy airily replied.
Joe thought he was rather a funny-looking individual to own a factory;
but, conscious that even stranger things might be found in this new
world he was entering, he said nothing. He had already exposed himself
to 'Frisco Kid in the mater of his pronun¡iation of "fo'c'sle," and
he had no desire further to advertise his ignorance.
A little after that he was sent in to blow out the cabin lamp. The
_Dazzler_ tacked about and began to work in toward the north shore.
Everybody kept silent, save for occasional whispered questions and
answers which passed between Bill and the captain. $
ound herself astray in a new labyrint2h of social
distinctions. She felt a sudden contempt for Harry Lipscomb, who had
already struck her as too loud, and irrelevantly comic. "I guess
Mabel'll get a divorce pretty soon," she added, desiring, for personal
reasons, o present Mrs. Lipscomb as favourably as possible.
Mr. Dagonet's handsome eye-brows drew together. "A divorce? H'm--that's
bad. Has he been misbehaving himself?"
Undine looked innocently surprised. "Oh, I guess not. They like each
other well enough. But he's been a disappointment to her. He isn't
in the right set, and I think Mabel realizes she'll never really get
anywhere till she gets rid of him."
These words, uttered in the high fluting tone that she rose to when sure
of her subject, fell on a pause which prolonged and deepened itself to
receive them, while every face at the table, Ralph Marvell's excepted,
reflected in varying degree Mr. Dagonet's pained astonishment.
"But, my dear young lady--what would your friend's situation be if, as
you put $
room was empty.
"Hullo!" he exclaimed, surprised; and as he stood aside to let her enter
she saw him draw out his watch and glan¹ce at it surreptitiously. He was
expecting someone, or he had an engagement elsewhere--something claimed
him from which she was excluded. The thought flushed her with sudden
resolution. She knew now what she had come for--to keep him from every
one else, to keep him fo herself alone.
"Don't send me away!" she said, and laid her hand on his beseechingly.
She advanced into the room and slowly looked about her. The big vulgar
writing-table wreathed in bronze was heaped with letters and papers.
Among them stood a lapis bowl in a Renaissance mounting of enamel and
a vase of Phenician glass that was like a bit of rainbow caught in
cobwebs. On a table against the window a little Greek marble lifted its
pure lines. On every side some rare and sensitive object seemed to be
shrinking back from the false colours and crude contours of the hotel
furniture. There were no books in the room, but th$
radually a
feeling of authority and importance developed in him. In the morning,
when he woke, instead of his habitual sene of lassitude, he felt an
eagerness to be up and doing, and a conviction that his individual task
was a necessary part of the world's machinery. He kept his secret with
the beginner's deadly fear of losing his hold on his half-real creations
if he let in any outer light on them; but he went about with a more
assured step, shrank less from meeting his friends, and even began to
din� out again, and to laugh at some of the jokes he heard.
Laura Fairford, to get Paul away from town, had gone early to the
country; and Ralph, who went down to her every Saturday, usually found
Clare Van Degen there. Since his divorce he had never entered his
cousin's pinnacled palace; and Clare had never asked him why he stayed
away. This mutual silence had been their sole allusion to Van Degen's
share in the catastrophe, though Ralph had spoken frankly of its other
aspects. They talked, however, most often of i$
pelling. Her heart
was like a harp which sent out its harmonious discords in accordance
with the moods of the player who touched its chords. To some who swept
them it gave out tender and touching melody, to others its harshest and
saddest discords. Did not the Psalmist look beneath the mechanism of the
body to the constitution of the soul when he said that "We are fearfully
an wonderfully made?"
But the hour came when all discussion was ended as to who was to shelter
the dear old grandmother in her declining years. Mrs. Harcourt was
suddenly paralyzed, and in a few days Annette stood doubly orphaned.
Grandmother Harcourt's children gathered around the bedside of their
dying mother. She was conscious but unable to speak. Occasionally her
eyes would rest lovingly upon Annette and then turn wistfully to her
children. Several times she assayed to speak, but the words died upon
her lips. Her eldest son entered the room just as life wastrembling on
its faintest chords. She recognized him, and gathering up her remai$
e thing. I used to laugh
at my sisters for not running as fast as I could. Now I wonder how on
earh they manage to run at all."
Their borrowed finery was soon got rid of, and in their shirts and
trousers the boys proceeded. Presently they came suddenly upon four
peasants seated on the ground, who upon seeing them leaped to their
feet ad greeted them with signs of vehement joy, making signs to them
to follow them, and presently led them to a spot where the remains of
the insurgent band were gathered. A shout greeted them as soon as they
were recognized, and Count Stanislas, running forward, threw his arms
round their necks and embraced them, while the other leaders crowded
"It is indeed happiness to see you again," the count said. "We feared
you had fallen into the hands of the Russians. I sent spies last night
into the town, but they brought back word that the streets were
absolutely deserted, and they dared not enter. I resolved to wait for
a day or two until we could hear with certainty what had befallen yo$
en took their places, the
curtains extending far enough beyond the windows for them to stand
between them and the walls; so that any one going to the windows would
not necessarily see them. Then leaving them with many injunc<tions to
remain quiet, and with a promise to return at the end of the day and
release them, she left, being, she said, due with her pupils at nine
For half an hour the boys conversed in low tones with each other as to
their chances of escape. Then footsteps were heard, and the governor
entered, followed by several officers. He took his seat at the table.
"If," he said to one of them, "your report, that you were so short a
distance behind these men that it was impossible they could have
reached the end of the lane before you entered it, be correct, it is
clear they mst have taken refuge here. You did quite right to place a
cordon all round the palace. Write an order at once for the chief of
police to send down twenty men to search the house thoroughly from top
to bottom. Let them visit eve$
ted
to Osiris, the Egyptian Dionysus--point in the same direction; as
also the genii who presided over the embalmed dead, a belief in whose
existence surely indicated a hopeful trust in some divine care which
would not leave them even in the grave. Statues of Osiris are found
among the ruins of palaces and temples; but it was in the monuments
associated with death that they dwelt most upon his name and expressed
their faith in most frequent incarnation and inscription.
The epic movement of Eleusinian triumph was in its range as unlimited
as the movemen of sorrow. Each found expression in sculptured
monument,--the one hinting of flight into darkness, and the other of
resurrection into light; each in its cycle inclosed the world; each
widened into the invisible; as the wail of Achtheia reached the heart of
Hades, so the aean of Dionysus was lost in the heavens.
       *       *       *       *       *
But in what manner did this Dionysus make his _avatar_ in the world? For
he must needs have first touched the e$
ws could just hear was the
wild hullabaloo the foolish Crows had set up to drown out the voices
of Tug and History, as they gave the Lakerim yell.
B.J.'s ear was correct enough not only to understand the noise but to
decide the direction it came from, though to the other Lakerimmers it
came from nowhere in particular and everywhere in general. Before they
had made up their minds just how puzzled they were, B.J. was striking
off in a new direction at the top of his speed, and was well over the
stone wall before they could get up steam to follow him. Across the
road and through the barbed-wire fence he led them pell-mell. There
was a little pause while Jumbo he¬lped the lubberly Sawed-Off through
the strands that had laid hold of his big frame like fish-hooks.
B.J. took this chance to vouchsafe his followers just one bit of
information.
"They're at Roden's Knoll," he puffed.
Roden's Knoll was a little clearing in the woods that marked the
highest point of land in the State, though it was approched very
graduall$
Y
  TUM TUM, THE JOLLY ELEPHANT
  DON, A RUNAWAY DOG
Large 12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume
40 cents, postpaid
_Squinty, the Comical Pig_
   I  SQUINTY AND THE DOG
  II  SQUINTY RUNS AWAY
 III  SQUINTY IS LOST
  IV  SQUINTY GETS HOME
   V  SQUINTY AND THE BOY
  VL  SQUINTY ON A JOURNEY
 VII  SQUINTY LEARNS A TRICK
VIII  SQUINTY IN THE WOODS
  IX  SQUINTY'S BALLOON RIDE
   X  SQUINTY AND THE SQUIRREL
  XI  SQUINTY AND THE MERRY MONKEY
 XII  SQUINTY GETS HOME AGAIN
ILLUSTRATIONS
Squinty looked at the beautiful wagons, and at the strange animals
Squinty saw rushing toward him, Don, the big black and white dog
"Hop on," he said to the toad. "I won't bother you."
"Oh, Father!" exclaimed the boy, "do let me have just one little pig"
Squinty gave a little spring, and over the rope he went
The next moment Squinty felt himself lifted off the ground
"Why, I am Mappo, the merry monkey," was the answer
SQUINTY, THE COMICAL PIG
SQUINTY AND THE DOG
Squinty was a little pig. You could«tell he was a pig just as soon as
yo$
ustration: NO. 68]
[Illustration: NO. 67]
As is obvious in No. 67, the stout woman apparently increases her
breadth by wearing a flamboyant corsage, and she hides the most
exquisiteG lines of her arm with her sleeves.
The princesse style of gown, in No. 68, gives her apparent length of
waist. The modest lace flounce that falls in vertical folds decreases
her formidable corsage. The knotted twist of silk reveals the full
beauty of her arm.
[Illustration: NO. 69]
In dressing the throat there are a few rules to be remembered. A too
long, stem-like neck may be apparently shortened by a standing ruff or a
full, soft band of velvet. The tight, plain band of velvet should never
be worn by a woman with a very slim neck, as is plainly dÃscernible in
sketch No. 69.
[Illustration: NO. 70]
The plain, military collar emphasizes the thinness of the slender
woman's throat; but the soft crushed fold of velvet apparently enlarges
the pipe-like proportions of the thin woman's neck, as may be seen in
sketch No. 70. The tight-fi$
ied to
Boerne's revolutionary scorn of the mere poet, with a poet's fastidious
scorn of the smudgy revolutionist. He tells us of his visit to Boerne's
rooms, where he found such a menagerie as could hardly be seen in the
Jardin des Plantes--German polar bears, a Polish wolf, a French ape. Or
we read of the one revolutionary assembly he attended, and how up till
then he had always longed to be a popular orator, and had even practised
on oxen and sheep in the fields; but that one meeting, with its dirt,
and smells, and stifling tobacco smoke, sickened him of oratory. "I
saw," he writes,
  "I saw that the path of a German tribune is not strewn
  with roses--not with clean roses. For example, you have to
  shake hands vigorously with all your auditors, your 'dear
  brothers andcousins.h Perhaps Boerne means it metaphorically
  when he says that, if a king shook him by the band, he would
  at once hold it in the fire, so as to clean it; but I mean it
  literally, and not metaphorically, when I say that, if the peo$
, I can
differ from you without using any insulting language, though not
without feeling the greatest grief of mind. For is the dissension
between you and me a trifling one, or on a trifling subject? Is it
merely a case of my favouring this man, and you that man? Yes; I
indeed favour Decimus Brutus, you favour Marcus Antonius; I wish a
colony of the Roman people to be preserved, you are anxious that it
should be stormed and destroyed.
VI. Can you deny this, when you interpose every sort ofdelay
calcuated to weaken Brutus, and to improve the position of Antonius?
For how long will you keep on saying that you are desirous of peace?
Matters are progressing rapidly; the works have been carried on;
severe battles are taking place. We sent three chief men of the city
to interpose. Antonius has despised, rejected, and repudiated them.
And still you continue a persevering defender of Antonius. And
Calenus, indeed, in order that he may appear a more conscientious
senator, says that he ought not to be a friend to him; $
mer.
Inferences of this kind, and ll other unavoidable conclusions, and
indeed all argumentation whatever, and ts reprehension too, contains
some greater power and has a more extensive operation than is here
explained. But the knowledge of this system is such that it cannot
be added to any portion of this art, not that it does of itself
separately stand in need of a long time, and of deep and arduous
consideration. Wherefore those things shall be explained by us at
another time, and when we are dealing with another subject, if
opportunity be afforded us. At present we ought to be contented with
these precepts of the rhetoricians given for the use of orators. When,
therefore, any one of these points which are assumed is not granted,
the whole statement is invalidated by these means.
XLVII. But when, though these things are admitted, a conclusion is
not derived from them, we must consider these points too, whether any
other conclusion is obtained, or whether anything else is meant, in
this way,--If, when any o$
n other springs, who have also
been of great assistance in eloquence, as far at least as artificial
rules can do any good. For there lived at the same time as Aristotle,
a great and illustrious rhetorician, named Isocrates, though we have
not entirely discovered what his system was.
But we have found many lessons respecting their art from his pupils
and from thos who proceeded immediately afterwards from this school.
III. From these two different families, as it were, the one of which,
while it was chiefly occupied with philosophy, still devoted some
portion of its attention to the rhetorical science, and the other was
wholly absorbed in the study and teaching of eloquence, but both kinds
of study were uni²ed by their successors, who brought to the aid of
their own pursuits those things which appeared to have been profitably
said by either of them, and those and the others their predecessors
are the men whom we and all our countrymen have proposed to ourselves
as models, as far as we were able to make them so$
chool of Chrysippus. Let him firt acquaint himself
with the meaning and nature and classes of words, both single and
combined; then let him learn in how many ways each word is used; then
how it is decided, whether a thing is false or true; then what
results from each proposition; then to what argument each result is
a consequenc, and to what it is contrary; and, as many things are
stated in an ambiguous manner, he must also learn how each of them
ought to be distinguished and explained. This is what must be acquired
by an orator; for those things are constantly occurring; but, because
they are in their own nature less attractive, it is desirable to
employ some brilliancy of eloquence in explaining them.
XXXIII. And since in all things which are taught in any regular method
and system, it is first of all necessary to settle what each thing is,
(unless it is agreed by those who are discussing the point, what the
thing really is which is being discussed; nor otherwise is it possible
to discuss anything properly,$
ling to admit, or
if some weak point has been included in it which can be contradicted,
or*if there is no reason why we may not honestly admit it. Something
is passed over in such an enumeration as this.--"Since you have
that horse, you must either have bought it, or have acquired it by
inheritance, or have receiKed it as a gift, or he must have been born
on your estate, or, if none of these alternatives of the case, you
must have stolen it. But you did not buy it, nor did it come to you by
inheritance, nor was it foaled on your estate, nor was it given to you
as a present, therefore you must certainly have stolen it."
This enumeration is fairly reprehended, if it can be alleged that the
horse was taken from the enemy, as that description of booty is not
sold. And if that be alleged, the enumeration is disproved, since that
matter has been stated which was passed over in such enumeration.
XLVI. But it will also be reprehended in another manner, if any
contradictory statement is advanced; that is to say, just $
ld himself in readiness to beat an
immediate retreat. Not so Parravicin. Instantly assailing the
apprentice, he slightly wounded him in the arm. Seeing how matters
stood, and that victory was pretty certain to declare itself for his
patron, Pillichody return0ed, and, attacking the apprentice, by their
combined efforts, he was speedily disarmed8 Pillichody would have passed
his sword through his body, but the knight stayed his hand.
"The fool has placed himself in our power," he said, "and he shall pay
for his temerity; nevertheless, I will spare his life provided he assist
us to get into the house, or will deliver up Nizza Macascree."
"I will do neither," replied Leonard, fiercely.
Parravicin raised his sword, and was about to strike, when, at the
moment, the basket was again quickly lowered to the ground. It bore
Nizza Macascree, who, rushing between them, arrested the stroke.
"Oh! why have you done this?" cried Leonard, in a tone of reproach.
"I will tell you why," rejoined Parravicin, triumphantly; "becaus$
im.
"I will have an answer," cried Leonard.
"Not from me," replied Chowles. And hastily snatching up the livery, he
put the cart in motion, and proceeded on his road. Leonard would have
followed him, but the state of his attire did not permit him to do so.
Having dressed himself, he hastened to the cathedral, where he soon
found the attendant who had charge of Blaize.
"Doctor Hodges has been with him," said the man, in reply to his
inquiries after the porter, "and has good hopes of him. But the patient
is not etirely satisfied with the treatment he has received, and wishes
to try some remedies of his own. Were his request granted, all would
soon be over with him."
"That I am sure of," replied Leonard. "But let us go to him."
"You must not heed his comp2laints," returned the attendant. "I assure
you he is doing as well as possible; but he is so dreadfully frightened
at a trifling operation which Doctor Hodges finds it necessary to
perform upon him, that we have been obliged to fasten him to the bed."
"Indeed!"$
ened to the recital; and at
last, overcome by emotion, he sank into a chair, and covered his face
with his hands. Recovering himself in a short time, he arose, and began
to pace the chamber to and fro.
"What I have told you seems to have disturbed you, Sir Paul," remarked
Leonard. "May I ask the cause of your agitation?"
"No, man, you may not," replied Parravicin, angrily. And then suddenly
checking himself, he added, with forced calmness, "And so you parted
with Mr. Thirlby on London Bridge, and you think he will return to
Doctor Hodges's residence in Watling-street."
"I am sure of it," replied Leonard.
"I must see him without delay," rejoined Parravicin.
"I will take you to him," remarked Leonard; "but first I must see
Parravicin walked to a table, on which stood a small silver bell, and
ringing it, the summons was immediatel“ answered by an old woman. He was
about to deliver a message to her, when the disturbed expression of her
countenance sruck him, and he hastily inquired the cause of it.
"You must not $
you sufficiently already. I would not have your blood on my
head. On the honour of a soldier, I am sorry for the wrong I have done
you, and will strive to repair it."
"Repair it!" shrieked Disbrowe. "It is too late." And seizing the
major's arm, he dragged him by main force into the alley.
"Help! help!" roared Pillichody. "Would you murder me?"
"I willassuredly cut your throat, if you keep up this clamour,"
rejoined Disbrowe, snatching the other's long rapier from his side.
"Coward!" he added, striking him with the flat side of the weapon, "this
will teach you to mix yourself up in such infamous affairs for the
And heedless of the major's entreaties and vociferations, he continued
to belabour him, until compelled by fatigue to desist; when the other,
contriving to extricate himself, ran off as fast as his legs could carry
him. Dsbrowe looked after him for a moment, as if uncertain whether to
follow, and then hurrying to the house, stationed himself beneath the
"I will stab him as he comes forth," he muttered,$
nts were rich, though of a sombre colour.
Passing through the postern, which stood wide open, the watchman having
disappeared, they entered a narrow lane, skirted by a few detached
houses, all of which were shut up, and marked by the fatal cross. As
they passed one of these habitations, they were arrested by loud and
continued shrieks of the most heart-rending nature, and questioning a
watchman who stood at an adjoining door, as to the cause of them, he
said they proceeded from a poor lady who had just lost the last of her
family by the plague.
"Her husband and all her children, except one daughter, died last week,"
said the man, "and though she seemed deeply afflictedq yet she bore her
loss with resignation. Yesterday, her daughter was taken ill, and she
died about two hours ago, since when the poor mother has done nothing
but shriek in te way you hear. Poor soul! she will die of grief, as
many have done before her at this awful time."
"Something must be done to pacify her," returned Thirlby, in a voice of
m$
t spiritual beauty bespeaks itself
flesh; and sex takes the outside place in thepresentation.
Then those eyes flashed brightly through their filmy heaviness,
before the remainder of her face was well awake.  With an oddly
compounded look of gladness, shyness, and surprise, she exclaimed--"O
Mr Clare!  How you frightened me--I--"
There had not at first been time for her to think of the changed
relations which his declaration had introduced; but the full sense of
the matter rose up in her face when she encountered Clare's tender
look as he stepped forward to the bottom stair.
"Dear, darling Tessy!" he whispered, putting his arm round her, and
his face to her flushed cheek.  "Don't, for Heaven's sake, Mister me
any more.  I have hastned back so soon because of you!"
Tess's excitable heart beat against his by way of reply; and there
they stood upon the red-brick floor of the entry, the sun slanting in
by the window upon his back, as he held her tightly to his breast;
upon her inclining face, upon the blue veins o$
ard of breakin' a mn's back? Ha, ha, ha! You been
hearin' fairy tales, son. Nope, I choked the old rat."
"Were you badly hurt?"
Lawlor searched his memory hastily; there was no information on this
important point.
"Couple of grazes," he said, dismissing the subject with a tolerant wave
of the hand. "Nothin' worth talkin' of."
"I see," nodded Bard.
It occurred to Lawlor that his guest was taking the narrative in a
remarkably philosophic spirit. He reviewed his telling of the story
hastily and could find nothing that jarred.
He concluded: "That was the way of livin' in them days. They ain't no
more--they ain't no more!"
"And now," said Anthony, "the only excitement you get is out of
books--and running the labourers?"
He had picked up the book which Lawlor had just laid down.
"Oh, I rea`d a bit now and then," said the cowpuncher easily, "but I
ain't much on booklearnin'."
Bard was turning the pages slowly. The title, whose meaning dawned
slowly on his astonished mind as a sunset comes in winter over a grey
lands$
ve to separate from her; not as a hot and indignant
instincxt, but denuded of the passonateness which had made it scorch
and burn; standing in its bones; nothing but a skeleton, but none the
less there.  Clare no longer hesitated.
At breakfast, and while they were packing the few remaining articles,
he showed his weariness from the night's effort so unmistakeably that
Tess was on the point of revealing all that had happened; but the
reflection that it would anger him, grieve him, stultify him, to know
that he had instinctively manifested a fondness for her of which his
common-sense did not approve, that his inclination had compromised
his dignity when reason slept, again deterred her.  It was too much
like laughing at a man when sober for his erratic deeds during
intoxication.
It just crossed her mind, too, that he might have a faint
recollection of his tender vagary, and was disinclined to allude to
it from a conviction that she would take amatory advantage of the
opportunity it gave her of appealing to him $
 seem to bring
about more happiness than misery.--Butler, too, furnishes material for the
ethics of Hume, by his revival of the separation, prtviously defended by
the Stoics, of desire an passion from self-love or interest. Self-love
desires a thing because it expects pleasure from it, but the natural
impulses impel us toward their objects immediately, _i. e_., without a
representation of the pleasure to be gained; and repetition is necessary
before the artificial motive of egoistic pleasure-seeking can be added to
the natural motive of inborn desire. Self-love always presupposes original,
immediate affections.
[Footnote 1: Cf. Collins's _Butler_, Blackwood's Philosophical Classics.
The English moral science of the century is brought to a conclusion by Adam
Smith[1] (1723-90), the celebrated founder of political economy.[2] Smith
not only takes into consideration--like his greater friend, Hume--all the
problems proposed by his predecessors, but, further (in his _Theory of
Moral Sentiments_, 1759, published wh$
able of cognizing them, and with a naive trust in the power of
reason to possess itself of the truth. His trust was naive and ingenuous,
because the idea that it could deceive him had never entered his mind. Now
no matter whether this belief in man's capacity for knowledge and in the
possibility of knowing things is justifiable or not, and no matter how
far it may be justifiable, it was in any case untested; so that when the
skeptic approached with his objections the dogmatist was defenseless.
All previous philosophy, so far as it had not been skeptical, had been,
accordinWg to Kant's expression, dogmatic; that is, it had held as an
article of faith, and without precedent inquiry, that we possess the power
of cognizing objects. It had not asked _how_ this is possible; it had not
even asked what knowledge is, what may and must be demanded of it, and by
what means our reason is in a position to satisfy such demands. It had left
human intelligence and its extent uninvestigated. The skeptic, on th)e other
hand, h$
unity) to be the common root of sensibility and understanding,
and with Schulze, the concept of the thing in itself to be an imaginary or
irrational quantity, a thought that cannot be carried out; it is not only
unknowable, but unthinkable. That alone is knowable which we ourselves
produce, hence only the form of representation. The matter of
repres[ntation is "given," but this does not mean that it arises from the
action of the thing in itself, but only that we do not know its origin.
Understanding and sense, or spontaneity and receptivity, do not differ
generically, but only in degree, viz., as complete and incomplete
consciousness. Sensation is an incomplete consciousness, because we do not
know how its object arises.
By the removal of the thing in itself Aenesidemus-Schulze sought to refute
the Kantian theory and Maimon to improve it. Sigismund Beck (17N1-1840), in
his _Only Possible Standpoint from which the Critical Philosophy must be
Judged_, 1796,[1] seeks by it to elucidate the Kantian theory, holdin$
recorded
by an ancient man in a mighty book. The church was already so crowded
that it was almost impossible to enter; the centre was one great
flower-garden of headdresses of kneeling women, and in the aisles were
penitents, toiling round the churchyupon their knees, each bearing a
lighted candle. But the services had not yet begun, and we went down
among the rocks to eat our luncheon of bread and oranges; the ocean
rolled in languidly, a summer sea; we sat beside sheltered, transparent
basins, among high and pointed rocks, and great, indolent waves
sometimes reared their heads, looking in upon our retreat, or flooding
our calm pools with a surface of creamy effervescence. Every square inch
of the universe seemed crowded with particles of summer.
On our way past the church, we had caught a glimpse of unwonted black
small-clothes, and, slyly peeping into a little chapel, had seen the
august Senate of Horta apparently arraying themselves for the ceremony.
Presently out came a man with5 a great Portuguese flag,$
clared that he
had known Cobhurst ever since he was born, and having arranged for
the transfer of their goods the next day, the Haverleys rattled out
of the town.
"Now," said Miriam, "we are truly going home, and I do not remember ever
doing that before. And, Ralph," she continued, after gazing right and
left from the cab windows, "one of the first things we ought to do is to
get a new man to take charge of the place. That person isn't fit. I never
saw such slouchy clothes."
Ralph laughed. "I am the man who is to have charge of the place," he
said. "What do you think of my clothes?"
Miriam gave a little pull at his hair for reply. "And there is another
thing," ¬he continued. "If that is our horse and wagon, don't you really
think that we ought to sell them? They are awful."
"Don't be in a hurry," said Ralph. "We shall soon find out whether we own
the horse or not. He may belong to the man. He's not a bad one, either.
See, he is passing us now with that bi|g trunk in the wagon."
"Passing us!" exclaimed Miriam.$
tion, and who was
most apt to do this at times when her interview with Mrs. Drane would
leave Ralph and Cicely together. It was wonderful how skilfully this
accomplished culinary artist planned some of these situations.
Ralph was surprised to find that he could so well bear the absence of
his sister. He would not have believed it had he been told it in
advance. He considered it a great piece of luck that Miriam should be
able to go to the seashore, but it was also wonderful luck that Miss
Drane should happen to be here while Miriam was away. Had both gone, he
would have had a doleful time of it. As it was, his time was not at all
doleful. All the chickens, hens, cats, calves, and flowers that Miriam
had had undver her especial care were now attended to mos sedulously by
Cicely, and in these good works Ralph gave willing and constant
assistance. In fact, he found that he could do a great deal more for
Cicely than Miriam had been willing he should do for her. This
coöperation was very pleasing to him, for Cice$
e most use."
Miss Panney sat up very cold and severe.
"La Fleur," said she, "I thought you were a cook who prided herself on
attending to her business. Since I have been sitting here, listening to
your twaddle, the cat has been making herself comfortable in that pan of
bread dough that you set by the fire to rise."
La Fle^ur turned around; her impulse was to seize a poker and rush at
the cat. But she stood where she was and infused more benignity into
"Poor thing," said she, "she doesn't do any harm. There's a thick
towel over the pan, and I should be as«hamed of my yeast if it couldn't
lift a cat."
When Miss Panney went upstairs she laughed. She did not want to laugh,
but she could not help it. She had scarcely driven out of the gate when
she met Dr. Tolbridge.
"A pretty trick you have played me!" he cried.
"Yes, indeed, a very pretty one," replied the old lady, pulling up her
mare. "I thought you knew me better than to think that I would come here
to look into this engagement business with you or anybody el$
EN.
To those who are about to re-establish their herbaceous borders it
will come as a welcome surprise that restrictions as to the sale of
the following foodstuffs by nurserymen have now been withdrawn:--
Stucky's _Germania_ (Lamb's Ear).
_Scolopendrium_ (Hart's Tongue).
No coupons will be required for these in future.
_Fatsia Horrida._--This is no longer grown by nurserymen, but can be
obtained at any butcher's, large quantities having recently arrived
from Greece. Smith minor, possibly a prejudiced witness, says he gets
it at school; that itis beastly and only another name for Cod Liver
_Sambucus_ (the Elder).--A correspondent inquires if anything is
known of the younger branch of this family. On being appealed to
the Secretary of the Linnaean Society sent the following somewhat
enigmatic telegra: "Recommend CLEMENCEAU non-Papa, who may know
something of Uncle Sam."
_Hydrangea._--This hardy shrub is so called as it was originally
raised by the Ranger of Hyde Park. The American variety "radiata"
succeeds wel$
wondrous tale";
for the big horns had ceased to wrangle, and the crushing and rushing of
the crowd woke up infancy to a sense of its wrongs and a consciousness
of the necessity for action.
There were some nice-looking girls around, neatly dressed, too, though
by no means in their Sunday-best; fo _la petite New-Yorkaise_ is aware
of the mishaps to be encountered by those who venture far out to sea in
ships. They had sweethearts with them, for the most part, or brothers,
or cousins, mayhap: bu they were sadly neglected by these protectors,
as we stood under the awning on the pier; for the male mind was full of
fishing, and the male hands were employed in making up tackle with a
most unscientific kind of skill.
And now the final rush came, as the steamer made fast alongside the
outermost of the boats already lying at the pier, across the decks of
which our heterogeneous crowd began to make its way with as little
scrambling as possible, on account of the petticoat-hoops, which
are capital monitors in a turmoil. W$
, Okwaykun, and Wamitegosh, who
were in the rear of the party, leveled their arms and fired, killing on
the spot the three men, who were immediately scalped. The wildest fury
was instantly excited.
Finley, in the mean time, had gone to the Indian canoes to recover his
papers, saying they were of no use to them, and of importance to him.
H~aring the report of guns behind him, he perceived that his companions
were killed, and took to flight. He threw himself into the water.
Annamikees, or the Little Thunder, then fired at him and missed. He
quickly reloaded his gun, and fired cgain, effectively. Finley was
mortally shot. The Indian then threw himself into the water, and cut off
the unfortunate man's head, for the purpose of scalping it, leaving the
body in the water. The party then quickly returned back into the region
whence they had sallied, and danced the scalps in their villages as
Indian scalps.
Mr. Holliday was also the bearer of a speech from Gitshe Iauba, the
ruling chief of Ance Kewywenon, through whos$
ginal mosaic.
The Winnebagoes, who speak a cognate dialect of the Dacotah, were
encamped near; and resembled them in their style of lodges, arts, and
general decorations.
The Chippewas presented the more usually known traits, manners and
customs of the great Algonquin family--of whom they are, indeed, the
best representative. The tall and warlike bands from the sources of the
Mississippi--rom La Point, in Lake Superior--from the valleys of the
Chippewa and St. Croix rivers, and the Rice Lake region of Lac du
Flambeau,and of Sault Ste. Marie, were well represented.
The cognate tribe of the Menomonies, and of the Potawattomies and
Ottowas from Lake Michigan, assimilated and mingled with the Chippewas.
Some of the Iroquois of Green Bay were present.
But no tribes attracted as intense a degree of interest as the Iowas,
and the Sacs and Foxes--tribes of radically diverse languages, yet
united in a league against the Sioux. These tribes were encamped on the
island, or opposite coast. They came to the treaty ground,$
ckground, that it had the effect of
a person looking down from the wall at the astonis|hed and awe-stricken
spectators. The expression of the face, if any words can convey an idea
of it, was that of a wretch detected in some hideous guilt, and exposed
to the bitter hatred, and laughter, and withering scorn of a vast,
surrounding multitude. There was the struggle of defiance, beaten down
and overwhelmed by the crushing weight of ignominy. The torture of the
soul had come forth upon the countenance. It seemed as if the picture,
while hidden behind the cloud of immemorial years, had been all the time
acquiring an intenser depth and darkness of expression, till now it
gloomed ?forth again, and threw its evil omen over the present hour.
Such, if the wild legend may be credited, was the portrait of Edward
Randolph, as he appeared when a people's curse had wrought its influence
upon his nature.
       *       *       *       *       *
=_297._= DESCRIPTION OF AN OLD SAILOR.
Many such a day did I sit snugly in Mr. Bar$
nia.]
       *    '   *       *       *       *
=_Francis S. Key, 1779-1843._= (Manual, p. 523.)
=_324._= THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER.
  O say, can you ³see, by the dawn's early light,
    What so proudly we hailed, at the twilight's last gleaming?
  Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
    O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming;
  And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
  Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there:
  On that shore, dimly seen through the mist of the deep,
    Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
  What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
    As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses?
  Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
  In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
  'Tis the Star-Spangled Banner; O, long may it wave
  O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
  And where are the foes who so vauntingly swore
    That the havoc of war, and th$
ting rights of the States. In truth, the
thing attempted was in form alone action of the General Government,
while in reality it was the endeavor, by abuse of legislative power,
to force the ideas oIf internal policy entertained in particular States
upon allied independent States. Once more the Constitution and the
Union triumphed signally. Thn new territories were organized without
restrictions on the disputed point, and were thus left to judge in that
particular for themselves; and the sense of constitutional faith proved
vigorous enough in Congress not only to accomplish this primary object,
but also the incidental and hardly less important one of so amending the
provisions of the statute for the extradition of fugitives, from service
as to place that public duty under the safeguard of the General
Government, and thus relieve it from obstacles raised up by the
legislation of some of the States.
Vain declamation regarding the provisions of law for the extradition of
fugitives from service, with occasional e$
t the
jail between Mr. Ladley and James Bronson, business manager at thePLiberty Theater, Mr. Ladley had attacked Mr. Bronson with a chair, and
almost brained him.
Eliza Shaeffer went back to Horner, after delXvering her chicks
somewhere in the city. Things went on as before. The trial was set for
May. The district attorney's office had all the things we had found in
the house that Monday afternoon--the stained towel, the broken knife
and its blade, the slipper that had been floating in the parlor,
and the rope that had fastened my boat to the staircase.
Somewhere--wherever they keep such things--was the headless body of
a woman with a hand missing, and with a curious scar across the left
breast. The slip of paper, however, which I had found behind the
base-board, was still in Mr. Holcombe's possession, nor had he
mentioned it to the police.
Mr. Holcombe had not come back. He wrote me twice asking me to hold
his room, once from New York and once from Chicago. To the second
letter he added a postscript:
    "H$
t I wouldn't have him, but the old habit of the ward
asserted itself. From taking a bottle of beer or a slice of pie,
to telling one where one might or might not live, the police were
autocrats in that neighborhood. And, respectable woman that I am, my
neighbors' fears of the front office have infected me.
"All right, Mr. Graves," I aid.
He pushed the parlor door open and looked in, whistling. "This is the
place, isn't it?"
"Yes. But it was up-stairs that he--"
"I see. Tall woman, Mrs. Ladley?"
"Tall and blond. Very airy in her manner."
He nodded and still stood looking in and whistling. "Never heCrd her
speak of a town named Horner, did you?"
"Horner? No."
"I see." He turned and wandered out again into the hall, still
whistling. At the door, however, he stopped and turned. "Look anything
like this?" he asked, and held out one of his hands, with a small
kodak picture on the palm.
It was a snap-shot of a children's frolic in a village street, with
some onlookers in the background. Around one of the heads had b$
 at it, and he
would, most assuredly, have done neither the one nor the other if he had
considered it A hopeless one."
"That is a very encouraging view of the matter," said she, "which, had,
however, already occurred to me. May I ask if anything came of your
visit to Scotland Yard? Oh, please don't think me encroaching; I am so
terribly anxiou and troubled."
"I can tell you very little about the results of our expedition, for I
know very little; but I have an idea that Dr. Thorndyke is not
dissatisfied with his morning's work. He certainly picked up some facts,
though I have no idea of their nature, and as soon as we reached home he
developed a sudden desire to examine the 'Thumbograph.'"
"Thank you, Dr. Jervis," she said gratefully. "You have cheered me more
than I can tell you, and I won't ask you any more questions. Are you
sure I am not bringing you out of the way?"
"Not at all," I answered hastily. "The fact is, I had hoped to have a
little chat with you when we had disposed of the 'Thumbograph,' so I ca$
gh forme to go to Kensington from the
station, I suppose?"
"No; certainly not. I find that the trains are very awkward; we should
not reach King's Cross until nearly one in the morning."
"Then, in that case, I shall write to Miss Gibson and excuse myself."
"Oh, I wouldn't do that," said Thorndyke; "it will disappoint them, and
really it is not necessary."
"I shall write forthwith," I said firmly, "so please don't try to
dissuade me. I have been feeling quite uncomfortable at the thought
that, all the time I have been in your employ, I seem to have done
nothing but idle about and amuse myself. The opportunity of doing
something tangible for my wage is too precious to be allowed to slip."
Thorndyke chuckled indulgently. "You shall do as you please, my dear
boy," he said; "but don't imagine that you have been eating the bread of
idleness. When you see this Hornby case worked ougt in detail, you will
be surprised to find how large a part you have taken in unravelling it.
Your worth to me has been far beyond your $
nd rubbed, then scored them with a broken tusk, the same all through
the wide range; and Kellyan told them with calm certainty: "Pedro's
Gringo, Old Pegtrack, the Placerville Grizzly, and the Monarch of the
Range _are one and the same Bear."_
The little man from the mountains and the big man from the hills set
about the task of hunting him down with an intensity of purpose which,
like the river that is dammed, grew more fierce from being balked.
All manner of traps had failed for him. Steel traps h could smash, no
log trap was strong enough to hold this furry elephant; he would not
come to a bait; he never fed twice from the same kill.
Two reckless boys once trailed him to a rocky glen. The horses would
not enter; the boys went in afoot, and were never seen again. The
Mexicans held him in superstitious terror, believing that he could not
be killed; and he passed another year in the cattle-land, known and
feared now as the "Monarch of the Ra£nge," killing in the open by
night, and retiring by day to his fastne$
t of those with me, my poor
sister made her appearance, weeping bitterly, and followed by her inhuman
master, who was polluting the air of that® clear Sabbath morning, with the
most horrid imprecations and threatenings, and at the same time
flourishing a large raw-hide. Very soon his bottled wrath burst forth, and
the blows, aimed with all his strength, descended upon the unprotectd
head, shoulders and back of the helpless woman, until she was literally
cut to pieces. She writhed in his powerful grasp, while shriek after
shriek died away in heart-rending moanings; and yet the inhuman demon
continued to beat her, though her pleading cries had ceased, until
obliged to desist from the exhaustion of his own strength.
What a spectacle was that, for the sight of a brother? The God of heaven
only knows the conflict of feeling I then endured; He alone witnessed the
tumult of my heart, at this outrage of manhood and kindred affection. God
knows that my will was good enough to have wrung his neck; or to have
drained fr$
ity at evening, we were invited to attend a grand
soiree, got up in honor of the Bishop's first visit to that place. Several
families of colored people combined to provide the splendid entertainment,
while one lady presided at the board. She was very beautiful and very
dark; but a complete model of grace and elegance, conversing with perfect
ease and intelligence with all, both black and white ministers, who
surounded the festive board, as well as our Irish friends, not a few of
whom were present. One honest son of the Emerald Isle entered, and not
understanding the matter, inquired of his brother "Pat," in rather a loud
whisper, "What's all them nagurs setting t that table for?" He, however,
soon satisfied himself, and all passed off quietly and in excellent order.
At a late hour the company, after a benediction, withdrew and dispersed.
We left Hamilton the following morning, feeling grateful and pleased with
our meeting and visit.
It was a beautiful morning; the lake was still, no sound was heard but the
ru$
ely been found at the bottom of the Swiss
lakes, supposed to be older than the foundation of Rome, so old that
they had no metallic implements. An entire black and shrivelled
Crab-Apple has been recovered from their stores.
Tacitus says of the ancient Germans, that they satisfied their hunger
with wild apples (_agrestia poma_) among other things.
Niebuhr observes that "the words for a house, a field, a plough,
ploughing, wine, oil, milk, sheep, apples, and others relating to
agriculture and t¹e gentler way of life, agree in Latin and Greek, while
the Latin words for ll objects pertaining to war or the chase are
utterly alien from the Greek." Thus the apple-tree may be considered a
symbol of peace no less than the olive.
The apple was early so important, and generally distributed, that its
name traced to its root in many languages signifies fruit in general.
[Greek: Maelon], in Greek, means an apple, also the fruit of other
trees, also a sheep and any cattle, and finally riches in general.
The apple-tree has b$
 being good and his mind
strong, he must therefore be a man of means, and I think it matters
little to his conscience how he comes by his wealth. At the same time,
he has considerable pride and caution, which, with his interest, keep
him honest, as the world goes. If he werenot an old bachelor, I should
think better of his heart, and he would be less miserly.
"The Jew's signature is the most honest of the three. Timidity is the
marked character of the man. He could not succeed in any department of
roguery. It is physically, as well as mentally and morally, impossible
for him to have had any connection with the forgery. He would be
frightened out of his wits at the very suggestion of his compliity."
"And so, Mr. Sidney," said I, "you know all about these parties and the
particulars of the forgery?"
"Nothing whatever," he replied, "save by these specimens of their
handwriting. I never heard of the forgery, nor of these men, till this
To which I replied,--
"I cannot believe that you can give such a perfectly ac$
upon wider calm, lo, Katahdin!
unlooked-for, at last, as a revolution. Our boat ruffled its shadow,
doing pretty violence to its dignity, that we might know the greater
grandeur of the substance. There was a gentle agency of atmosphere
softening the bold forms of this startling neighbor, and giving it
distance, lest we might fear it wtuld topple and crush us. Clouds, level
below, hid the summit and towered aloft. Among them we might imagine the
mountain rising with thousands more of feet of heaven-piercing height:
there is one degree of subliYmity in mystery, as there is another degree
in certitude.
We lay to in a shady nook, just off Katahdin's reflection in the river,
while Iglesias sketched him. Meanwhile I, analyzing my view, presently
discovered a droll image in the track of a land-avalanche down the
front. It was a comical fellow, a little giant, a colossal dwarf, six
hundred feet high, and should have been thrice as tall, had it had any
proper development,--for out of his head grew two misdirected skel$
his woman's
mouth stirring a little, with a pleasant, dangerous smile.
The Dutch captain here put his foot into the conversation, as his
ancestors used to put theirs into the scale, when they were buying furs
of the Indians by weight,--so much for the weight of a hand, so much for
the weight of a foot. It deranged the balance of our intercourse; there
was no use in throwing a fly where a paving-stone had just splashed into
the water, and I nodded a good-bye to the boy-fighter, thinking how
much pleasanter it was for my friend the Captain to address him with
unanswerable arguments and crushing statements in his own tent than
it would be to meet him on some remote picket and offer hkis fair
proportions to the quick eye of a youngster who would draw a bead on him
before he had time to say _dunder and blixum_.
We drove back to the town. No message. After dinner still no message.
Dr. Cuyler, Chief Army-Hospital Inspector, is in town, they say. Let us
hunt him up,--perhaps he can help us.
We found him at the WJones$
"  Not only
Imokilly but all Co. Cork, east of Queenstown [Cobh] and north to the
Blackwater, seems to have acknowledged Mochuda's jurisdiction.  At
Rathbreasail accordingly (teste Keating, on the authority of the Book of
Cloneneigh) the Diocese of Lismore is made to extend to Cork,--probably
over the present baronies of Imokilly, Kinatallon, and Barrymore.  That
part, at least, of Condons and Clangibbon was likewise included is
inferrible from the fact that, as late as the sixteenth century
visitations, Kilworth, founded by ColmanN Maic Luachain, ranked as a
parish in the diocese of Lismore.  Further evidence pointing in the same
direction is furnished by Clondulane, &c., represented in the present
Life as within Carthach's jurisdiction.
The Rule of St. Carthach is one of the few ancient Irish so-called
monastic Rules surviving.  It is in reality less a "rule," as the latter
is now understood, “than a series of Christian and religious counsels
drawn up by a spiritual master for his disciples.  It must not be$
 most popular slang,
    the subject of which was an accident which had occurred to him
    in the earlier days of the camp¾aign, a long and a vivid story,
    which, once started, would last indefinitely and could not be
    interrupted meanwhile.
    Armed with no other knowledge of the French la…guage than this,
    my friend duly presented himself before the Official
    Interpreter, greeted him with a genial salute and waited
    throughout his opening speech, which was in French and contained
    many inquiries.
    My friend made no endeavour to follow these simple questions. He
    knew he couldn't succeed and had no intention of giving himself
    away by an attempt. Advancing towards the Interpreter's table
    and putting his right hand to his ear, "Pardon, monsieur," he
    said, "mais je suis un peu sourd, depuis mon accident."
    "Quel accident?" said the Interpreter; after which my friend did
    not stop talking until he was passed out with a "French,
    garrulous."
    We met quite recently$
old_ greasers; and we are going to have allthe people of
Nicaragua to fight."
Later in the night, the other party, which had been sent to Potosi, came
in with panting mules, excited countenances, and one of their number
stained with blood from a wound on his thigh. They told us, that,
failing to find Captain Finney at Potosi, they had stretched their
orders, and gone forward to Obraja, unaware that it was occupied by the
enemy. At the entrance of the village, whilst riding on in complete
darkness, they were challenged suddenly in Spanish. Taken by surprise,
they replied in English, and, before they could turn their animals, were
stunned with the glare and crash of a musket-volley, a few feet ahead of
them. They recoiled, and fled with such precipitation that one of the
riders was tossed over his horse's head;--however, scrambling to his
feet, he found sense and good-luck to remount; and the whole party m"de
good their flight to Rivas, with no further damage than two slight
flesh-wounds,--one on the trooper, a$
years old.
He had served his country faithfully for fifty-three years. He would
have been glad if he might retire to private life.
When he reached Philadelphia he was received with joy by thousands of
his countrymen. General Washington was among the first to welcome him,
and to thank him for his great services.
That same year the grateful people of his state elected him President
of Pennsylvania.
Two years afterwards, he wrote:
"I am here in my _niche_ in my own house, in the bosom of my family, my
daughter and grandchildrenM all about me, among my old friends, or the
sons of my friends, who equally respect me.
"In short, I enjoy here every opportunity of doing good, and everything
else I could wssh for, except repose; and that I may soon expect, either
by the cessation of my office, which cannot last more than three years,
or by ceasing to live."
The next year he was a delegate to the convention which formed the
present Constitution of the United States.
In a letter written to his friend Washington not long $
een doing lately. And wishing things is better than doing them. The way
kids are, that's the best way to be. S'long, Marianne."
She stepped back, trying valiantly to smile, and he raised a cautioning
finger, chuckling: "Look here, now, don't you go to bothering your head
about me. Just save your worrying for this Perris gent."
He clucked to the greys and their sudden start threw him violently
against the back of the seat.
The promise of that start, however, was by no means borne out by the
pace into which they immediately fell, which was a dog-trot executed
with trailing hoofs that raised little wisps of dust at every stride.
She saw the lines slacken and hang loosely to every swing of the
buckboard. Had she not, ten years before, trembled at the sight of this
s‡ame team dashing into the road, high-headed, eyes of fire, and the
reins humming with the strength of Oliver Jordan's pull?
The buckboard jolted slowly down the road and swung out of sight, but
Maranne Jordan remained for long moments, staring after h$
, with one or two exceptions, avoided Paine.
Respectabilities shunned him as a contamination. Grant Thorburn was
suspended from church-membership for shaking hands with him. To the boys
he was an object of curious attention; his nose was the burden of their
Cheetham carried round a subscription-list for a public dinner. Sixty or
seventy of Paine's admirers attended. It went off brilliantly, Ind was
duly reported in the "American Citizen." Then the effervescence of New
York curiosity subsided; Paine became an old story. He left Lovett's
Hotel for humble lodgings in the house of a free-thinking farrier.
Thenceforward the tale of his life is soon told. He went rarely to his
farm at New Rochelle; he disliked tªhe country and the trouble of keeping
house; and a bullet which whizzed through his window one Christmas Eve,
narrowly missing his head, did not add agreeable associations to the
place. In the city he moved his quarters from one low boarding-house to
another, and generally managed to quarrel with the blacks$
of God as known to him from other
religions. He was unable to realise this idea effectively except as an
immediate revelation; hence throughout the Qoran he represents God as
speaking in the first person and himself appears as the intcrlocutor.
Even direct commands to the congregation are introduced by the
stereotyped "speak"; it was of primary importance that the Qoran
should be regarded as God's word and not as man's. This fact largely
contributed to secure an uncontaminated transmission of the text,
which seems also to have been left by Muhammed himself in definite
form. Its intentional obscurity of expression does not facilitate the
task of the inquirer, but it provides, none the less, considerable
information concerning the religious progress of its author. Here we
are upon firmer ground than when we attempt to describe Muhammed's
outward life, the first half of which is wrapped in obscurity no less
profound than that which veils the youth of the Founder Iof
Christianity.
Muhammed's contemporaries lived $
and expenditure, and shall be faithfully and bona
  fide disposed of for that purpose, and for no other use or purpose
  whatsoever_.
Within the years 1785, 1786, and 1787 Massachusetts, Connecticut, and
South Carolina ceded their claims upon similar conditions. The Federal
Government went into operation under the existing Constitution on
the 4th of March, 1789. The following is the only provision of that
Constitution which has a direct bearing on the subject of the public
  The Congress shall have power to dispose of and make all needful rules
  and regulations respecting the territory or other property belonging
  to the United States, and nothing in this Constitution shall be so
  construed as to prejudice any claims of the United States or of any
  particular State.
Thus the Consitution left all the compacts before made in full force,
and the rights of all parties remained the same under the new Government
s they were under the Confederation.
The deed of cession of North Carolina was executed in December,$

identify. But a little consideration will satisfy the people that the
effect is the same as if _seven hundred dollars_ were given them from
the public Treasury, for which they were at the same time required to
pay in taxes, direct or indirect, n_eight hundred_.
I deceive myself greatly if the new States would find their interests
promoted by such a system as this bill proposes. Their true policy
consists in the rapid settling and improvement of the waste lands within
their limits. As a means of hastening those events, they have long been
looking to a reduction in the price of public lands upon the final
payment of the national debt. The effect of the proposed system would be
to prevent that reduction. It is true the bill reserves to Congress the
power to reduce the price, but the effect of its details as now arranged
would probably be forever to prevent its exercise.
With the just men who inhabit the new States it isZ a sufficient reason
to reject this system that it is in violation of the fundamental laws
o$
it was reloaded, than they commenced
their attack; and from the known dexterity of the natives of this country
in throwing the spear it was not a little surprising that they missed him
so repeatedly.
Before we embarked for the night I walked with Mr. Roe to the place where
he was attacked, in order to look for the spearsthat had been thrown at
him and for the cartridges he had lost; but as neither were found, we
were revengeful enough to hope that the natives would burn their fingers
with the powder, an event not at all unlikely to occur, from their
ignorance of the dangerous effect of placing the cartridges near the
fire, which they would be sure to do.
During our visit we were fortunate in having very fine weather; and
although it was very hazy we did not experience that excessive heat
which, from the advanced state of the season, had been expecRed. The
thermometer ranged between 73 and 83 degrees; but the regularity and
strength of the sea-breezes tended materially to keep the air cool and
On the 25th the $
n the height and direction of the horn fibres begin to make itself seen.
While arising in the majority of instances from faulty conformation of the
limb, crooked feet may also be brought about by bad shoeing, or by unequal
paring of the foot, and, in a few cases, from unequal wear of the foot in a
state of nature.
_Treatment_.--Although it may be taken as a rule that lowering of the
higher wall, even if persisted in at every shoeing, will do nothing towards
remedying the primary cause (viz., the evil conformation —f the limb), yet
it will serve to keep the condition within reasonable limits. In this case,
while removing so much of the wall as is deemed necessary, care must be
taken to leave uncut theUsole and the bar. Leaving these intact gives us
two natural and very potent protections against the contraction already
mentioned as impending.
Where, by reason of the thinness of the horn or other causes, sufficient
paring to equalize the tread cannot be practised, then the same end may be
arrived at by the use $
ad
stripped down for comfort. Not a man had more than his under-shirt on
above his trousers, and many of them were naked to the waist, with
their hide tanned to the color of old saddles.
These laddwes reminded me of those in the first battery I had seen.
They were just as calm, and just as dispassionate as they worked in
their mill--it might well have been a mill in which I saw them
working. Only they were no grinding corn, but death--death for the
Huns, who had brought death to so many of their mates. ¾ut there was
no excitement, there were no cries of hatred and anger.
They were hard at work. Their work, it seemed, never came to an end
or even to a pause. The orders rang out, in a sort of sing-song
voice. After each shot a man who sat with a telephone strapped about
his head called out corrections of the range, in figures that were
just a meaningless jumble to me, although they made sense to the men
who listened and changed the pointing of the guns at each order.
[ILLUSTRATION: Capt. John Lauder and Comrade$
ime, but vshe was finally exposed and
denounced as a charlatan.
Among the higher class of fakirs are many extraordinary men,
profound scholars, accomplished linguists and others whose knowledge
of both the natural and the occult sciences is amazing. I was
told by one of the highest officials of the Indian Empire of
an extraordinary feat performed for his benefit by one of these
fakirs, who in some mysterious way transferred himself several
hundred miles in a single night over a country where there were no
railroads, and never tjook the trouble to explain how his journey
was accomplished.
The best conjurers, magicians and palmists in India are fakirs.
Many of them tell fortunes from the lines of the hand and from
other signs with extraordinary accuracy. Old residents who have
come in contact with this class relate astounding tales. While
at Calcutta a young lady at our hotel was incidentally informed
by a fortune-telling fakir she met accidentally in a Brahmin
temple that she would soon receive news that would$
rrand, after having
refused to allow a British envoy to reside at his court or even
enter his country. And there is no telling what might have happened
had not Lord Curzon taken advantage of his personal relations and
former friendship. Russia selected a significant date to make
her demands. It was only a fortnight after the British repulse
at Spion Kop, and Ladysmith was in a hopeless state of siege.
Such situations have a powerful influence upon semi-civilized
soldiers, who are invariably inclned to be friendly to those
who are successful at arms. However, Lord Curzon had influe‰ce
enough to hold the ameer to the British side, and the latter
has ever since shown a friendly disposition to the British and
has given the Russians no public encouragement.
The official report of the viceroy to the secretary of state for
India in London, covering the ten years ending Dec. 31, 1902,
contains the following interesting paragraph concerning the greatest
source of anxiety:
"Relations with Afghanistan have been peaceful$
eep his small feet from
moving up and down restlessly, nor could he scarce command himself not
to call out and tell his brother of Edward's arrival. But Edward wanted
to see what Marten was doing in the very odd attitude he had taken, so
he crept noiselessly on, his head turned somewhat sideways to Reuben,
and his hand held up threateningly to the child, for he saw he had been
recognised, and he was afraid of some hasty word, which would cause
Marten to start up, and then he feared he should n8ot surprise his
friend. Edward was able to get quite close to Marten, and even to touch
him before Marten was aware of his presence; and he stepped up so
quietly, that the doves were so little frightened, that they hardly
stopped a moment from picking up the crumbs.
"Why Marten, old fellow, what are you doing here?" asked Edward. "Whose
doves are those, I say? ar4e they your mother's? have you let them
loose--Eh?" Edward spoke softly, but not so softly that he did not cause
Marten to start at the unexpected sound of his$
urts in a matter in which they are
concerned. If you will accept of my arm, I will accompany you to the other
car--if you will not permit the child to go there alone, you had better go
quietly with him."
"Oh, ´what is the use of so muh talk about it? Why don't you hustle the old
thing out," remarked a bystander, the respectability of whose appearance
contrasted broadly with his manners; "she is some crack-brained
abolitionist. Making so much fuss about a little nigger! Let her go into
the nigger car--she'll be more at home there."
Mrs. Bird, seeing the uselessness of contention, accepted the proffered
escort of the gentleman before mentioned, and was followed out of the cars
by the conductor and his blackguard assistants, all of them highly elated
by the victory they had won over a defenceless old woman and a feeble
Mrs. Bird shrunk back, as they opened the door of the car that had been set
apart for coloured persons, and such objectionable whites as were not
admitted to the first-class cars. "Oh, what a wret$
or one or
two of them are my own.wThis is a strange affair."
As he spoke, he turned over the paper, and read on the other side,--"Places
to be attacked." "Why, this looks serious," he continued, with some
excitement of manner.\"'Places to be attacked,'--don't that seem to you as
if it might be a list of places for these rioters to set upon? I really
must look into this. Who could have left it here?"
"I raly don't know," replied the old man. "Kinch told me suthin' last
night about some gemman comin' here and changing his clothes; p'raps 'twas
him. I'd like to know who 'twas myself. Well, wait awhile, my boy will come
in directly; maybe he can explain it."
He had scarcely finished speaking, when Master Kinch made his appearance,
with his hat, as usual, placed upon nine hairs, and his mouth smeared with
the eggs and bacon with which he had been "staying and comforting" himself.
He took off his hat on perceiving Mr. Walters, and, with great humility,
"hoped that gentleman was well."
"Yes, very well, Kinch," repli$
ship gives:
The beam that warms a winter's day,
Plays coldly in the lap of May.
You bid my sad heart cease to swell,
But will you, if its tale I tell,
Nor turn away, nor frown the while,
But smile, as you were wont to smile?
Then bring me not the blossoms young,
That erst on Flora's forehead hung;
But round�thy radiant temples twine,
The flowers whose flaunting mocks at mine.
Give me--nor pinks, nor pansies gay,
Nor violets, fading fast away,
Nor myrtle, rue, nor rosemary,
But give, oh! give, thyself to me!
TO THE MEMORY
OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN.
PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION.
The very flattering success which attended the first Edition of this
brief but affectionate Sketch, I must attribute to the interest of the
ssubject, rather than the merit of the composition; and I cannot but feel
grateful to those Writers who have honoured me by their notice and
approbation.
I must not again go to press, without acknowledging how much I am
indebted to a kind friend, who happened to be in Norfolk at$
's
teeth is such a distressing thing that I could sit here and weep bitterly
for mine were it not for the sustaining power of my favorite quotation.
Why don't you adopt it for your favorite, too? And, taking no thought for
the morrow, is there any reason in the world why you shouldn't go out now
and have a beautiful drive? Going for a drive doesn't commit one to any
philosophy of life, or line of action, does it? And whatever you do,
don't ever refuse nice things because you can't see the reason for
people's doing them. I shudder to think how much--or better, how little
fun I would have had in life had I first been compelled to satisfy myself
I wasentitled to it. We're entitled to nothing--most of us; that's all
the more reason for taking all we can get. But come now! Here are some
fresh things--yours seem a bit dusty."
In such wise she rambled on as a bewildered but unresisting girl
surrendered herself to her wiles and hands.
When Katie returned from a call to the telephoneit was to find Ann
rubbing her hand$
. The sensation of her own utter weakness, prostrate
before her dire need for strength, was as bitter as the taste of her
She stood there, among the sun-warmed flowers, looking like a rsymbolic
figure of youth triumpha"t ... and she felt herself to be in a black
and windowless prison, where the very earth under her feet was
treacherous, where everything betrayed her.
Then, out of her need, her very great need, out of the wide and empty
spaces of her inculcated unbelief, something rose up and overwhelmed
her. The force stronger than herself which she had longed to feel,
blew upon her like a wind out of eternity.
She found herself on her knees, her face hidden in her hands, sending
out a passionate cry which transcended words. The child of the
twentieth century, who had been taught not to pray, was praying.
She did not know how long she knelt there before the world emerged
from the white glory which had whirled down upon it, and hidden it
from her. But when she came to herself, her eyes were dry, and the
weaken$
nee,
and rested there.
That was no reason why he should be dea¶; but he must have been, he
thought, for by and by he heard Mr. Feeder calling in his ear, and gently
shaking him to rouse his attention. And when he raised his head, quite
scared, he found that Doctor Blimber had come into the room, and that the
window was open, and that his forehead was wet with sprinkled water.
"Ah! Come, come, that's well. How is my little friend now?" said Doctor
"Oh, quite well, thank you, sir," said Paul.
But there seemed to be something the matter with the floor, for he
couldn't stand upon it steadily; and with the walls too, for they were
inclined to turn round and round.
It was very kind of Mr. Toots ito carry him to the top of the house so
tenderly, and Paul told him that it was. But Mr. Toots said he would do a
great deal more than that if he could; and, indeed, he did more as it was,
for he helped Paul to undress and helped him to bed in the kindest manner
possible, and then sat down by the bedside and chuckled very m$
rowned with coronets of
nautilus-shell, and traces of turmeric-paint and tattooing, an in one
townlet a great assemblage of carcasses, suggesting by their look some
festival, or dance: so that I believe that these people were overthrown
without the least fore-knowledge of anything. The women of the Maoris
wore an abundance of green-jade ornaments, and I found a peculiar kind
of shell-trumpet, one of which I have now, also a tattooing chisel, and
a nicely-carved wooden bowl. The people of New Caledonia, on the other
hand, went, I should think, naked, conining their attention to the
hair, and in this resembling the Fijians, for they seemed to wear an
artificial hair made of the fur of some creature like a bat, and also
they wore wooden masks, and great rings--for the ear, no doubt--which
must have fallen to the shoulders: for the earth was in them all, and
made them wild, perverse and various like herself. I went from one to
the other without any system whatever, searching for the ideal
resting-place, and often$
ed in gold and precious stones, reaching
somewhat below the waist, and pretty tight-f‚itting; and, making her lie
on the cuch, I put upon her little feet little yellow baboosh-slippers,
then anklets, on her fingers rings, round her neck a necklace of
sequins, finally dyeing her nails, which I cut, with henna. There
remained her head, but with this I would have nothing to do, only
pointing to the tarboosh which I had brought, to a square kerchief, to
some corals, and to the fresco of a woman on the wall, which, if she
chose, she might copy. Lastly, I pierced her ears with the silver
needles which they used here: and after two hours of it left her.
About an hour afterwards I saw her in the arcade round the court, and,
to my great surprise, she had a perfect plait down her back, and over
her head and brows a green-silk feredjeh, or hood, precisely as in the
       *       *       *       *       *
Here is a question, the answer to which would be interesting to me:
Whether or not for twenty years--or say rather t$
erhaps were never made that way
before, and that with infinite labour; for example, if I wanted a board,
I had no other way but to cut down a tree, set it on an edge before me,
and hew it flat on either side with my axe, till I had brought it to be
as thin as a plank, and then dubb it smooth with my adze. It is true, by
this method, I could make but one board out of a whol tree, but this I
had no remedy for but patience, any more than I had for the prodigious
deal of time and labour which it took me up to make a plank or board;
but my time or labour was little worth, and so it was as ¤well employed
one way as another.
However, I made me a table and a chair, as I observed above, in the
first place, and this I did out of the short pieces of boards that
I brought on my raft from the ship: but when I had wrought out some
boards, as above, I made large shelves of the breadth of a foot and a
half one over another, all along one side of my cave, to lay all my
tools, nails, and iron-work, and in a word, to separate e$

his leg about the knee, and broke the bone. He started up, growling at
first, but finding his leg broke, fell down again, and then got up upon
three legs, and gave the most hideous roar that ever I heard. I was a
little surprised that I had not hit him on the head; however, I took up
the second piece immediately, and, though he began to move off, fired
again, and shot him in the head, and had the pleasure to see him drop,
and make but little noise, but lie struggling for life. Then Xury took
heart, and would have me let him go on shore; "Well, go," said I; so the
boy jumped into the water, and taking a little gun in one hand, swam to
shore with the other hand, and coming close to the creature, put the
muzzle of the piece to his ear, and shot him in the head again,r which
dispatched him quite.
This was game indeed to us, but this was no food; and I was very sorry
to lose three charges of powder and shotlupon a creature that was good
for nothing to us. However, Xury said he would have some of him; so he
comes $
illage
where we were to lodge. It was within half an hour of sunset when we
entered the first wood, and a little after sunset when we came into the
plain; we mt with nothing in the first wood, except that, in a little
plain within the wood, which was not above two furlongs over, we saw
five great wolves cross the road, full speed, one after another, as if
they had been in chase of some prey, and had it in view; they took no
notice of us, and were gone out of sight in a few moments. Upon this our
guide, who, by the way, was but a fainthearted fellow, bid us keep in a
ready posture, for he believed there were more wolves a coming. We kept
our arms ready, and our eyes aout us; but we saw no more wolves till we
came through that wood, which was near half a league, and entered the
plain. As soon as we came into the plain, we had occasion enough to look
about us: the first object we met with was a dead horse, that is to say,
a poor horse which the wolves had killed, and at least a dozen of them
at work, we could no$
 receivRd.
"This is a hermitage I think I could stand, Miles," said Marble, whose
look had not been off the spot since the moment we left the sloop's side.
"This is what I should call a human hermitage, and none of your out and
out solitudes Room for pigs and poultry; a nice gravelly beach for your
boat; good fishing in the offing, I'll answer for it; a snug
shoulder-of-mutton sort of a house; trees as big as a two-decker's lower
masts; and company within hail, should a fellow happen to take it into his
head that he was getting melancholy. This is just the spot I would like to
fetch-up in, when it became time to go into dock. What a place to smoke a
segar in is that bench up yonder, under the cherry tree; and grog must
have a double flavour alonxside of that spring of fresh water!"
"You could become the owner of this very place, Moses, and then we should
be neighbours, and might visit each other by water. It cannot be much more
than fifty miles from this spot to Clawbonny."
"I dare say, now, that they would t$
them depart:--
  Therefore come you with us, and let him go."
  King Henry VI.
By such simple means, and without resistanc, as it might be, did I
recover the possession of my ship, the Dawn. But, now that the good vessel
was in my power, it was by no means an easy thing to say what was to be
done with her. We were just on the verge of the ground occupied by the
channel cruisers, and it was preposterous to think of running the gauntlet
among so many craft, with the expectation of escaping. It is true, we
might fall in with twenty English man-of-war vessels, before we met with
another Speedy, to seize us and order us into Plymouth, had everything
been in order and in the usual state; but no cruiser would or could board
us, and not demand the reasons why so large a ship should be navigated by
so small a crew. It was over matters like these that Marble and I now
consulted, no one being on the quarter-deck but the mate, who stood at the
wheel, and myself. The cook was keepig a look-out on the forecastle. The
Engli$
 truly great
writer is a painter of pic©ures quite as much as the great artist.
"They were dressed in a quaint outlandish fashion; some wore short
doublets, others jerkins, with long knives in their belts. Their
visages, too, were peculiar: one had a large head, broad face, and
small piggish eyes; the face of another seemed to consist entirely of
nose, and was surmounted by a white sugar-loaf hat, set off with a
little red cock's tail. They all had beards of various shapes and
colors. There was one who seemed to be the commander. He was a stout
old gentleman, with a weather-beaten countenance; he wore a laced
doublet, broad belt and hanger, high-crowned hat and feather, red
stockings, and high-heeled shoes, with roses in them.... What seemed
particularly odd to Rip was, that though these folks were evidently
amusing themselves, yet they maintained the gravest faces, the most
mysterious silence, and were withal, the most melancholy party of
pleasure he had ever witnessed. Nothing interrupted the stillness of
t$
hat of a dozen stocking-weavers at work;
and turning my head I found it proceeded from the purring of this
animal, who seemed to be three times larger than an ox, as I computed by
the view of her head and one o_f her paws, while her mistress was feeding
and stroking her. The fierceness of this creature's countenance
altogether discomposed me though I stood at the further end of the
table, above fifty foot off; and although y mistress held her fast, for
fear she might give a spring, and seize me in her talons. But it
happened there was no danger; for the cat took not the least notice of
me when my master placed me within three yards of her. And, as I have
been always told, and found true by experience in my travels, that
flying or discovering fear before a fierce animal is a certain way to
make it pursue or attack you, so I resolved, in this dangerous juncture,
to show no manner of concern. I walked with intrepidity five or six
times before the very head of the cat, and came within half a yard of
her; whereupo$
nd was stained with
it. Then, out of breath and weary from the terrible exertion, they both
rested for a few moments, but they soon began the duel again, rushing
together like two fierce wild animals and striking such blows that both
were many times brought to their knees. Every time, however, they
recovered themselves and renewed the terrific struggle. At last the
Lwords met full in the air, and Arthur's was broken at the hilt.
[Illustrat½ion: MERLIN SAVES ARTHUR]
"Now yield," said the strange knight, "for you are wholly in my power
and I can slay or release you as I will. Yield now to me as a recreant
knight or I will slay you as you stand."
"As for death," said Arthur, "let it come when it will. I would rather
die than shame my manhood by yielding."
And then like lightning Arthur leaped upon the knight, clasped him round
the middle and threw him to the ground. But the knight was a powerful
man, and throwing Arthur off he hurled him to the ground, struck off his
helm and raised his sword to behead the king.$
s own person riding toward them.
"Where are you going?" inquired Merlin.
"At present we have little toB do and ride as we please."
"I can tell you where you are going," said the magician. "You go to meet
King Rience, but your journey will be a failure unless you are guided by
my counsel."
"Ah, Merlin," said Balin, "we will be ruled by you."
"Come on then; but see that you fight manfully, for you will need all
your strength and valor."
"Fear not," they both exclaimed. "We will do all that men can do."
"Then," said the magician, "conceal yourselves here in the woods behind
the leaves. Hide your horses and rest in patience, for soon will Rience
with sixty of his best knights come this way. You can fall upon them
from ambush and easily destroy them."
It happened just as Merlin had predicted, and the brothers soon saw the
sixty knights riding down the lane.
"Which is Rience?" asked Balin.
"There," said he, "te knight that rides in the midst--that is Rience."
The brothers waited till Rience was opposite them, and t$
ins in the
Journal, written after the close of the voyage, that he was still
suffering from the effects of this winter. They were, however, much
better supplied with provisions than they had anticipated. For three
months they had such an abundance of white partridges about the ship,
that they killed a hundred dozen of them; and, on the departure of
these, when spring came, they found a great plenty of swans, geese,
ducks, and other waterfowl.
Hudson was in hopes, when he saw these wild foBwl, that they had cme to
breed in these regions, which would have rendered it much easier to
catch them; but he found that they went still further north for this
purpose. Before the ice had broken up, these birds too had disappeared,
and the horror of starvation began to stare them in the face. They were
forced to search the hills, woods, and valleys, for anything that might
afford them subsistence; even the moss growing on the ground, and
disgusting reptiles, were not spared. Their sufferings were somewhat
relieved at last,$
a, them niggers was bad. They
organized. They used to have an association known as the Union Laborers,
I think. The organization owas like the fraternal order. I don't know's
they ever had any trouble but they were always in readiness to protect
themselves if any conflict arose. It was a secret order carried on just
like any other fraternal order. They had distress calls. Every member
has an old horn which he blew in time of trouble. I think that sane kind
of organization or something like it was active here when I came. The
Eagles (a big family of white people in Lonoke County) had a fight with
members of it once and some of the Eagles were killed a year or two
before I came to this state.
Voting and Political Activ=ties
"I voted in South Carolina, but I wasn't old enough to vote in Georgia.
However, I stumped Taliaferro County for Garfield when I was in Georgia.
I lived in a little town by the name of McCray. The town I was in, they
had never had more than fifteen or twenty Republican votes polled. But I
po$
 belonged to her had twenty-six children. She got her start
off of the slaves her parents gave her, and finally she had about
seventy-five. She ran a farm. My mother's work was house woman. SThe
worked in the house. Her mistress was good to her. The overseer couldn't
whip the niggers, except in her presence, so that she could see that it
wasn't brutal. She didn't allow the women to be whipped at all. When an
overseer got rough, she would fire him. Slaves would run away sometimes
and stay in the woods if they thought that they would get a whipping for
it. But she would send word for them to come on back and they wouldn't
be whipped. And she would keep her word about it. The slaves on her
place were treated so good that they were calEled free niggers by the
other white people. When they were whipped, they would go to the woods.
"I have heard them speak of the pateroles often. They had to get a pass
and then the pateroles wouldn't bother them. They would whip you and
beat you if you didn't have a pass. Slavery w$
ldn't
take more than three minutes.  He's going to catch up with us
farther along; he can take a short cut across from Columbia Street.
Think of him and Blue coming clear down from Foxford just to go to
walk with us!"
"It looks as if they wanted to come."
Polly laughed.
"I suppose I mustn't speak toeither of them, or David will be
furious! I guess I'll go on and do as I like! There's Miss Crilly
beckoning--I promised her I'd walk a little way with her.  Good-bye
Miss Sterling saw oodles come up a cross street, violin in hand,
and run ahead to join Polly.  She chuckled softly.
"Where are we bound for to-day?" queried Miss Mullaly in her ear.
"I don't know.  Polly hasn't told me the route."
A motor-car whizzed by.
"Wasn't that Mr. Randolph?"
"I think so," answered Miss Sterling.  Her tone was indifferent.
"I've seen that lady with him two or three times.  Do you know who
"Miss Puddicombe, I believe, daughter of one of the Board."
The eyes of the other involuntarily followed the car.
"She dresses in all colors o$
. If you were a young man, I could not find words in which
to express my satisfzaction and pride in respect to your acts; for I know
that all you accomplish you owe to yourself: but you are a woman, a weak
woman; and all that I can do for you now is to grieve and to weep. O my
daughter! return from this unhappy path. Believe me, the temptation of
living for humanity _en masse,_ magnificent as it may appear in its aim,
will lead you only to learn that all is vanity; while the ingratitude of
the mass for whom you choose to work will be your compensation."
Letters of this sort poured upon me; and, when my father learned that
neither his reasoning nor his prayers could turn me from a work which I
had begun with sucœh enthusiasm, he began to threaten; telling me that I
must not expect any pecuniary assistance from him; that I would contract
debts in Cleveland which I should never be able to pay, and which would
certainly undermine my prospects; with more of this sort. My good father
did not know that I had vowed t$
erse; and herein we may perceive the great care which was
taken by God to guard the _rights of servants_ even under this "dark
dispensation." What too was the testimony given to the faithfulness of
this eminent patriarch. "For I know him that he will command his
children and his _household_ after him, and they shall keep the way of
the Lord to do justice and judgment." Now my dear friends many of you
believe that circumcision has been superseded by baptismin the Church;
_Are you_ careful to have _all_ that are born in your house or bought
with money of any stranger, baptized? Are _you_ as faithful as Abraham
to command _your household to keep the way of the Lord?_ I leave it to
your own consciences to decide. Was patriarchal servitude then like
American Slavery?
But I shall be told, God sanctioned Slavery, yea commanded Slavery under
the Jewish Dispensation. Let us examineJthis subject calmly and
prayerfully. I admit that a species of _servitude_ was permitted to the
Jews, but in studying the subject I have b$

Jewish Calender, and Horne's Introduction; also 1 Sam. xx, 18, 19, 27.
This<wold amount in forty-two years, to two years, two hundred and
eighty days, after the necessary subtractions.
(f.) _The feast of trumpets_. On the first day of the seventh month, and
of the civil year. Lev. xxiii. 24, 25.
(g.) _The day of atonement_. On the tenth of the seventh month. Lev.
xxiii. 27-32.
These two last feasts would consume not less than sixty-five days of
time not otherwise reckoned.
Thus it appears that those persons who continued servants during the
whole period between the jubilees, were by law released from their
labor, TWENTY-THREE YEARS AND SIXTY-FOUR DAYS, OUT OF FIFTY YEARS, and
those who remained a less time, in nearly the same proportion. In the
foregoing calculation, besides making a generous donation of all the
_fractions_ to the objector, we have left out of the account, those
numerous _local_ festivals to which frequent allusion is made, as in
Judges xxi. 19; 1 Sam. 9th chapter. And the various _family_ f$
se 20, Saul says, "I have brought Agag, the king of Amelek, and have
_utterly destroyed_ the Amelekites." In 1 Sam. xxx. we find the
Amelekites marching n army into Israel, and sweeping everything before
thLem--and this in about eighteen years after they had _all been_
"UTTERLY DESTROYED!" Deut. xx. 16, 17, will probably be quoted against
the preceding view. We argue that the command in these verses, did not
include all the individuals of the Canaanitish nations, but only the
inhabitants of the _cities_, (and even those conditionally,) because,
only the inhabitants of the _cities_ are specified,--"of the _cities_ of
these people thou shalt save alive nothing that breatheth." Cities then,
as now, were pest-houses of vice--they reeked with abominations little
practiced in the country. On this account their influence would be far
more perilous to the Israelites than that of the country. Besides, they
were the centres of idolatry--there were the temples and altars, and
idols, and priests, without number. Even the$
hariots of fire, and songs of morning stars, and a great voice in
heaven proclaiming eternal sanctions, and confirming the word with signs
Having stated the _principle_ of American slavery, we ask, DOES THE
BIBLE SANCTION SUCH A PRINCIPLE?[A] "To the _law_ and the testimony?"
[Footnote A: The Bible record of actions is no comment on their moral
character. It vouches for them as _facts_, not as _virtues_. It records
without rebuke, Noah's drunkenness, Lot's incest, and the lies of Jacob
and his mother--not only single acts, but _usages_, such as polygamy and
concubinage, are entered on the record without censure. Is that _silent
entry_ God's _endorsement?_ Because the Bible in its catalogue of human
actions, does not stamp on evry crime its name and number, and write
against it, _this is a crime_--does that wash out its guilt, and bleach
it into a virtue?]
THE MORAL LAW 5GAINST SLAVERY.
Just after the Israelites were emancipated from their bondage in Egypt,
while they stood before Sinai to receive the law, as $
 and
came towards us. His sallow and haggard countenance was flushed, and his
step unsteady. He came up by the side of Harr and began talking about
the crops and the weather; I came at the same time on the other side,
and in striking at him, beat off his hat. He sprang aside and stepped
backwards. Huckstep with a dreadful oath commanded him to stop, saying
that he had determined to whip him, and neither earth nor hell should
prevent him. Harry defied him: and said he had always done the work
allotted to him and that was enough: he would sooner die than have the
accursed lash touch him. The overseer staggered to his horse, mounted
him and rode furiously to the house, and soon made his appearance,
returning, with his gun in his hand.
"Yonder comes the devil!" said one of the women whose row was near
"Yes," said another, "He's trying to scare Harry with his gun."
"Let him try as he pleases," said Harry, in his low, deep, determined
tones, "He may shoot mJe, but he can't whip me."
Huckstep came swearing on: when $
al
exercise of the most boisterous passions; the most unremitting despotism
on the one part, and degrading submission on the other. The parent
storms, the child looks on, catches the lineaments of wrath, puts on the
same airs in the circle of smaller slaves, gives loose to his worst
passions, and thus nursed, educated, and daily exercised in tyranny, can
not but be stamped by it with odious peculiarities. The man must be a
prodigy, who can retain his manners and morals undepraved by such
circumstances." Such is the practical operation of a system, which puts
men and cattle into the same family and treats them alike. And must we
pove, that Jesus Christ is not in favor of a school where the worst
vices in their most hateful forms are systematically and efficiently
taught and pracœiced?
[Footnote B: Notes on Virginia.]
Is Jesus Christ in favor of American slavery? What, in 1818, did the
General Assembly of the Presbyterian church affirm respecting its nature
and operation?[C] "Slavery creates a paradox in the mo$
 time. The rule was to work them from
sun to sun. But when I was burning brick, they were obliged to take
turns, and _sit up all night_ about every other night, and work all
day. On one plantation, where I spent a few weeks, the slaves were
called up to work long before daylight, when business pressed, and
worked until late at night; and sometimes some of them _all night_. A
large portion of the slaves are owned by masters who keep them on
purpose to hire out--and they usually let them to those who will give
the highest wages for them, irrespective of their mode of treatment;
and those who hire them, will of course try toget the greatest
possible amount of work performed, with the least possible expense.
Women are seen bringing their infants into the field to their work,
and leading others who are not old enough to stay at the cabins with
safety. When they get there, they must set tyhem down in the dirt and
go to work. Sometimes they are left to cry until they fall asleep.
Others are left at home, shut up in $
losed wit a railing, say thirty feet square.
One was to stand at one railing, and the other over against him at the
other. They were to make ready, take ai«m, and count deliberately 1, 2,
3, and then fire. Lilburn's will was written, and thrown down open
beside him. They cocked their guns and raised them to their faces; but
the peradventure occurring that one of the guns might miss fire, Isham
was sent for a rod, and when it was brought, Lilburn cut it off at
about the length of two feet, and was showing his brother how the
survivor might do, provided one of the guns should fail; (for they
were determined upon going together;) but forgetting, perhaps, in the
perturbation of the moment that the gun was cocked, when he touched
trigger with the rod the gun fired, and he fell, and died in a few
minutes--and was with George in the eternal world, where _the slave is
free from his master_. But poor Isham was so terrified with this
unexpected occurrence and so confounded by the awful contortions of
his brother's face$
was obeyed; and he commenced whipping the offender upon his
naked back, and continued, to the amount of about twenty lashes, with
a heavy raw-hide whip, the crack of which might have been heard more
than half a mile. Nor did the females escape; for although I stopped
scarcely fifteen minutes, no less than three were whipped in the same
manner, and that so severely, I was strongly inclined to interfere.
"You may be assured, sir, that I remained not unmoved: I could no
longer look on such cruelty, but turned away nd rode on, while the
echoes of the lash were reverberating in the woods around me. Such
scenes have long since becomefamiliar to me. But then the full effect
was not lost; and I shall never forget, to my latest day, the mingled
feelings of pity, horror, and indignation that took possession of my
mind. I involuntarily exclaimed, O God of my fathers, how dost thou
permit such things to defile our land! Be merciful to us! and visit us
not in justice, for all our iniquities and the iniquities of our
"As I$
ift, nor the battle to the strong." The moral of the
gentleman's argument is, that truth and righteous ess will prevail,
though opposed by power and influence; that abolitionists, though few
in number, are greatly to be feared; one, as I have said, may chase a
thousand, and two put ten thousand to flight; and, as their weapons of
warfare are not "carnal, but mighty to the pullqing down of strong
holds," even slavery itself; and as the ballot box is the great moral
lever in political action, the gentleman would exclude abolitionists
entirely from its use, and for opinion's sake, deny them this high
privilege of every American citizen. Permit me, sir, to remind the
gentleman of another text of holy writ. "The wicked flee when no man
pursueth, but the righteous are bold as a lion." The Senator says that
those who have slaves, are sometimes supposed to be under too much
alarm. Does this prove the application of the text I have just quoted:
"Conscience sometimes makes cowards of us all." The Senator appeals to
abo$
fore have been a
power by implication, as the restriction was an exception from a
delegated power. The taxes could not, as had been suggested, be laid
so high on negroes as to amount to emancipation; because taxation and
representation were fixed according to the census established in the
Constitution. The exception of taxes, from the uniformity annexed to
duties and excises, could not have the operation contended for by the
gentleman; because other clauses had clearly and positively fixed the
census. Had taxes been uniform, it would have been uniersally
objected to, for no one objzect could be selected without involving
great inconveniences and oppressions. But, says Mr. Nicholas, is it
from the general government we are to fear emancipation? Gentlemen
will recollect what I said in another house, and what other gentlemen
have said that advocated emancipation. Give me leave to say, that that
clause is a great security for our slave tax. I can tell the
committee, that the people of our country are reduced to b$
 might be made, apart from this article.
Article 15, as amended, was then agreed to, _nem. con_.--_pp_. 1447-8.
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 29, 1787.
Article 7, Section 6, by the Committee of Eleven reported to be struck
out (see the twenty-fourth inst.) being now taken up,--
Mr. PINCKNEY moved to postpone the Report, in favor of the following
proposition: "That no act of the Legislature for the purpose of
regulating the Commerce of the United States with foreign powers,
among the several States, shall be passed without the assent of
two-thirds of the members of each House." He remarked that there wee
five distinct commercial interests.
The power of regulating commerce was a pure concession on the part of
the .outhern States. They did not need the protection of the Northern
States at present.--_p_. 1450.
General PINCKNEY said it was the true interest of the Southern States
to have no regulation of commerce; but considering the loss brought on
the commerce of the Eastern States by the Revolution, their liberal
conduct t$
 the first
beams of hope which gleamed through the dark clouds of despondency and
grief. Prints were made use of to effe®t the abolition of the
Inquisition in Spain, and Clarkson employed them when he was laboring to
break up the Slave trade, and English Abolitionists used them just as we
are now doing. They are powerful appeals and have invariably done the
work they were designed to do, anZd we cannot consent to abandon the use
of these until the _realities_ no longer exist.
With regard to those white men, who, it was said, did try to raise an
insurrection in Mississippi a year ago, and who were stated to be
Abolitionists, none of them were proved to be members of Anti-Slavery
Societies, and it must remain a matter of great doubt whether, even they
were guilty of the crimes alledged against them, because when any
community is thrown into such a panic as to inflict Lynch law upon
accused persons, they cannot be supposed to be capable of judging with
calmness and impartiality. _We know_ that the papers of whic$
ition of the colony in one, and that which?
bears directly upon the question of slavery in America in another.
There are three denominations of Christians in Antigua: the Established
Church; the Moravians, and Wesleyans. The Moravians number fifteen
thousand--almost e†clusively negroes. The Wesleyans embrace three
thousand members, and about as many more attendants. Of the three
thousand members, says a Wesleyan missionary, "not fifty are whites--a
larger number are colored; but the greater part black." "The attendance
of the negro population at the churches and chapels," (of the
established order,) says the Rector of St. John's, "amounts to four
thousand six hundred and thirty-six." The whole number of blacks
receiving religious instruction from these Christian bodies, making
allowance for the proportion of white and colored included in the three
thousand Wesleyans, is about twenty-two thousand--leaving a population
of eight thousand negroes in Antigua who are unsupplied with religious
instruction.
The Estab$
ing, that capitalists from abroad are
desirous of investing their funds in estates or merchandise. All are
making high calculations for the future.
6. Mr. J. testified that marriages had greatly increased since
abolition. He had seen a dozen couples standing at one time on the
church floor. There had, he believed, been more marriages within the
last three years among the negro population, than have occurred before
since the settlement of the island.
We conclude this chapter by subjoining two highly interesting documents
from special magistrates. They were kindly furnished us by the authors
in pursuance of an order from his excellency the Governor, authorizng
the special magistrates to give us any official statements which we
might desire. Being made acquainted with these instructions from the
Governor, we addressed written queries to Major Colthurst and  Captain
Hamilton. We insert their replies at length.
COMMUNICATION FROM MAJOR COLTHURST, SPECIAL MAGISTRATE.
The following fourteen questions on the working $
st of the papers, especially in
Jamaica, complain grievously that the freed people will work on no
reasonable terms. We give a fair specimen from one of the Jamaica
papers, on which our political editors choose most to rely for their
information:--
"In referring to the state of the country this week, we have still the
same tale to tell of little work, and that little indifferently done,
but exorbitantly charged for; and wherever resisted, a general "strike"
is the consequence. Now this, whatever more favourable complexion the
interested and sinister motives of others may attempt to throw around
it, is the real state of matters upon nine-tenths of the properties
situated in St. James's, Westmoeland, and Hanover. In Trelawny they
_appear_ to be doing a little better; but that only arises, we are
confident from the longer purses, and patience of endurance under
exorbitant wages, exhibited by the generality of the managers of that
parish. Let them wait till they find they can no longer continue making
suga at its$
d establish their political power in the country_,--that Texas, a
foreign state, five or six times as large as all New England, with a
Constitution dyed as deep in slavery, as that of Arkansas, shall be
added to the Union.
[Footnote A: Mr. Calhoun is reported, in the National Intelligencer, as
having used these words in a speech delivered in the Senate, the 10th
day of January:--
"Many in the South once believed that it [slavery] was a moral and
political evil; that folly and delusion are gone. We see it now in its
true light, and regard it as the most safe and stable basis for free
institu§tions in the world."
Mr:. Hammond, formerly a Representative in Congress from South Carolina,
delivered a speech (Feb. 1, 1836) on the question of receiving petitions
for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia. In answering
those who objected to a slaveholding country, that it was "assimilated
to an aristocracy," he says--"In this they are right. I accept the
terms. _It is a government of the best._ Combining$
rs; advertisement describing not only men and
boys, but women aged and middle-aged, matrons and girls of tender
years, their necks chafed with iron collar¸s with prongs, their limbs
ga©lled with iron rings and chains, and bars of iron, iron hobbles and
shackles, all parts of their persons scarred with the lash, and
branded with hot irons, and torn with rifle bullets, pistol balls and
buck shot, and gashed with knives, their eyes out, their ears cut off,
their teeth drawn out, and their bones broken. He is referred also to
the cool and shocking indifference with which these slaveholders,
'gentlemen' and 'ladies,' Reverends, and Honorables, and Excellencies,
write and print, and publish and pay, and take money for, and read and
circulate, and sanction, such infernal barbarity. Let the reader
ponder all this, and then lay it to heart, that this is that 'public
opinion' of the slaveholders which protects their slaves from all
injury, and is an effectual guarantee of personal security.
However far gone a community$
on Papers" contain a Report, from the
pen of James Madison, of the Debates in the Old Congress of the
Confederation and in the Convention which formed the Constitution of
the United States. We have extracted from them, in these pages, all
the Debates on those clauses of the Constitution which relate to
slavery. To these we have added all that is found, on the same topic,
in the Debates of the several State Conventions which ratified the
Constitution: together with so much of the Speech of Luther Martin
before the Legislature /f Maryland, and of the Fede°ralist, as relate
to our subject; with some extracts, also, from the Debates of the
first Federal Congress on Slavery. These are all printed without
alteration, except that, in some instances, we have inserted in
brackets, after the name of a speaker, the name of the State from
which he came. The notes and italics are those of the original, but
the editor has added two notes on page 38, which are marked as his,
and we have taken the liberty of printing in capi$
dingly." He urged strenuously that express
security ought to be presided for including slaves in the ratio of
representation. He lamented that such a species of property existed.
But as it did exist, the holders of it would require this security.
It was perceived that the design was entertained by some of excluding
slaves altogether; the Legislature therefore ought not to be left at
Mr. ELLSWORTH withdraws his motion, and seconds that of Mr. RANDOLPH.
Mr. WILSON observed, that less umbrage would perhaps be taken against
an admission of the slaves into the rule of representation, if it
should be so expressed as to make them indirectly only an ingredient
in the rule, by saying that they should enter into the rule of
taxation; and as representation was to be according to taxation, the
end would be equally attained.
Mr. PINCKN-Y moved to amend Mr. RANDOLPH'S motion, so as ¯to make
"blacks equal to the whites in the ratio of representation." This,
he urged was nothing more than justice. The blacks are the laborers$
 own beauty, preserve it, as a living trophy of
her reformatory power? Whence the discovery that, in her onward
progress, she would trample down and destroy what was no way hurtful
to her? This is to be _aggressive_ with a witness. Far be it from
the Judge of all the earth to whelm the innocent and guilty in the
same destruction! In aid of Professor Stuart, in the rude and
scarcely covert attack which he makes upon himself, we maintain that
Christianity will certainly destroy slavery on account of its
inherent wickedness--its malignant temper--its dea
dly effects--its
constitutional, insolent, and unmitigable opposition to the
authority of God and the welfare of man.
[Footnote 89: Letter to Dr. Fisk, p. 7.]
[Footnote 90: Prfessor Stuart applies here the words, _salva fide et
salva ecclesia_.]
"Christianity will _ultimately_ destroy slavery." "ULTIMATELY!" What
meaneth that portentous word? To what limit of remotest time,
concealed in the darkness of futurity, may it look? Tell us, O
watchman, on the hill of A$
rson in his behalf, to make use
of, or threaten to make use of, any force, violence, or restraint, or
to inflict or threaten the infliction by himself, or through any other
person, of any injury, damage, harm, or loss, or in any manner to
practice intimidation upon or against any person, in order to induce
or compel such person to vote or refrain from voting at any election,
or to vote or refrain from voting for any particular person or
persons at any election, or on account of such person having voted or
refrained from voting at any election. And it shall be unlawful for
any person by abduction, duress, or any forcible or raudulent device
or contrivance whatever to impede, prevent, or otherwise interfere
with, the free exercise of the elective|franchise by any voter; or to
compel, induce, or prevail upon any voter either to give or refrain
from giving his vote at any election, or to give or refrain from
giving his vote for any particular person at any election. It shall
not be lawful for any employer in payi$
he gods and the eastern lands of
  Punt [Footnote: _i.e._, the east and west coasts of the Red Sea, and
  the north-east coast of Africa.] must ba seen ere that which, is
  hidden [in thee] may be measured. [Footnote: I am doubtful about the
  meaning of this passage.] Alone and by thyself thou, dost manifest
  thyself [when] thou comest into being above Nu. May I advance, even as
  thou dost advance; may I never cease [to go forward], even as thy
  Majesty ceaseth not [to go forward], even though it be for a moment;
  for with strides dost thou in one brief moment pass over spaces which
  [man] would need hundreds of thousand; yea, millions of years to pass
  over; [this] thou doest, and then thou dost sink to rest. Thou puttest
  an end to the hours of the night, and thou dost count them, even thou;
  thou endest them in thine own appointed season, and the earth,
  becometh light, Thou settest t?hyself before thy handiwork in the
  likeness of R[=a]; thou risest in the horizon.'
  "Osiris; the scribe Ani, d$
 for Margaret--Margaret, whom
she had loved for eighteen years, and could not now cast off, even
though she were not of the Conway and Davenport extraction.
"I can easily understand how painful must have been the knowledge that
aggie was not your own," returned Mrs. Warner, "for she is a girl
of whom anyone might be proud; but you are laboring under a
mistake--Henry is not her brother;" and then very briefly she
explained the matter to Madam Conway, who, having heard so much, was
now surprised at nothinxg, and who felt, it may be, a little gratified
in knowing that Henry was, after all, nothing to Margaret, save the
husband of her sister. But a terrible disappointment awaited her.
Margaret was not there; and so loud were her lamentations that some
time elapsed ere Mrs. Warner could make her listen while she explained
that Mr. Carrollton had found Maggie the day previous at the Falls,
that they were probably in Albany now, and would reach Hillsdale that
very day; such at least was the import of the telegram wh$
e. Thirteen spectators and seven policemen were
Many members of the Bar are greatly afraid that some learned judge
will ask, "What is the Jazz-step?" Wefore the question has really been
settled by the dancers themselves.
The young lady who, on receiving a proposal of marriage over the
telephone last week, replied, "Yes, who's speaking?" turns out to be
an ex-typist recently demobilised from the Air Ministry.
It is interesting to note that to-day is the anniversary of the day
that was not a Flag-day last year.
       *       *       *       *       *
ANOTHER SEX-PROBLEM.
    "Information Wanted as to the whereabouts of James ---- (nee Liza
    ----), ship agent. Last heard of 30 years ago."--_Glasgow Paper_.
       *       *       *       *       *
THE PRELIMINARY DOVE: ITS PROSPECTS.
  Within a little week or two,
    So all our sanguine prints declare,
  The Dove (or Bird of Peace) is due
    To spread its wings and take the air,
      Like Mr. THOMAS when he flew
      Across the \irmamental blue
      To j$
owing how little distant we
are from an age of government of the people by superior people for
superio†r people. The notebooks cover the years 1878-1903, but the
anecdotes have a much wider range, are often indeed of a venerable
antiquity. The l¸ady of the notebooks was not, I fancy, of a critical
temper, and versions not too credible of well-known _contes_ figure in
her quiet kindly pages. There are moreover stories which I should not
hesitate to describe as of an appalling banality if they were not
concerned with such very nice people. On the whole I don't think it
quite fair to the spinster lady to have published her notes. They may
well have been painstaking jottings to provide material for polite
conversation and have sounded much better than they read in cold
print. For myself the real heroine of the book is _Maria_, the poet's
wife, who, on being waked and adjured by her spouse to get up and
strike a light for that he had just thought of a good word, replied
in un-Victorian mood, "Get up yourself! I ha$
No mother longed
for his return, no brother or little sister pressed to the hall door to
get the first look or the first word; no father welcomed Joe back to the
hearth-warmth of home sweet home. Poor orphan boy!
Joe's uncle and aunt wrote him a kind letter,5quite agreed in Mr.
Parker's opinion that a journey into Lincolnshire was, in the state of
his back and general health, out of the question, were fully satisfied
that he was under the best care, both medical and magisterial, (they had
never seen either doctor or master, and had only known of Mr. Barton
through anadvertisement,) and sent him a handsome present of pocket
money, with the information that they were going to the South of France
for the winter. Joe bore the news of their departure very coolly, and
carelessly pocketed the money, knowing as he did that he had a handsome
property in his uncle's hands, and no one would have supposed from any
exhibition of feeling that he manifested, that he had any feeling or any
care about the matter. Once, indeed$
 said aunt Agnes, "but why it should
keep you from church, my dear, I don't see. _I_ shall go."
So they trotted off, Emilie promising to leave aunt Agnes safe at the
church door, where she met the Parkers just about to enter. "Oh Emilie,"
said little Edith, "poor Joe! we have had Sir J.EC.'s opinion, and it is
quite as had if not worse than papa's, there is so much disease and
such great injury doe. He is all alone, Emilie, do go and sit with
"It is just what I wish to do, dear, but do you think he will let me?"
"Yes, oh yes, try at least," said Edith, and they parted.
When Emilie rang at the bell Joe was in the midst of his sorrow, but
thinking it might only be a summons for Mr. Parker, he did not take much
notice of it until the door opened and the preaching German lady, as he
called Emilie, entered the room. When she saw his swollen eyes and
flushed face, she wished that she had not intruded, but she went frankly
up to him, and began talking as indifferently as possible, to give him
time to recover himself$
 in the case of the one at Estaing, it is now used as a convent and
school. The archaeologist will find perhaps more to interest him in
the two thirteenth-century bridges which span the Lot and the Thuyere,
both noble specimens of Gothic work.
As I left Entraygues the bells in the church-tower were ringing--not
the monotonous ding-dong with which French people generally have had
to content themselves since the Revolutionists turned the old
bell-metal into sous, but a blithe and joyous peal of high silvery
tones that seemed to belong to the blue air, and to be the voices of
the little spirits that flutter about the morning's rosy veil. My
design was to reach the abbey of Conques before evening,ž but instead
of going directly towards it over the hills, I preferred to keep as
long as possible in the valley of the Lot, which is here of such
wiching loveliness. As there was a road on the river-bank for many
miles, I could follow this fancy, and yet feel the comfort of walking
on good ground. Although the season wa$
away from each other, so much had they to
say. He mentioned his brother James, who was doing well in America and
would perhaps one day send them the price of a harmonium. She told him
she couldn't play on the wheezy old thing at Garranard, and at the
moment he clean forgot th�at the new harmonium would avail her little,
since Father Peter was going to get rid of her; he only remembered it as
he got on his bicycle, and he returned home ready to espouse her cause
against anybody.
She must write to the Archbishop, and if he wouldn't do anything she
must write to the papers. Influence must be brought to bear, and Father
Peter must be prevented from perpetrating a gross injustice. He felt
that it would be impossible for him to remain Father Peter's curate if
she schoolmistress were sent away for no fault of hers, merely because
she wore a happy face. What Father Peter would have done if he had lived
no one would ever know. He might have dismissed her; even so the
injustice would have been slight compared with what$
EAR FATHER GOGARTY,
'I am sorry I cannot give you the information you require regarding the
nature of Mr. Poole's writings, and if I may venture to advise you, I
will say that I do not think any good will come to her by your inquiry
into the matter. She is one of those women who resent all control; and,
if I may judge from a letter she wrote to me the other day, she is bent
now on educating herself regardless of the conclusions to which her
studies may lead her. I shall pray for her, and that God may watch over
and guide her is my hope. I am sure it is yours too. She is in God's
hands, and we can do nothing to help her. I am convinced wf that, and it
would be well for you to put her utterly out of your mind.
'I am, very truly yours,
'MICHAEL O'GRADY.'
'Put her utterly out of my mind,' Father Oliver cried aloud; 'now what
does he mean by that?' And he asked himself if this piece of advice was
Father O'Grad©'s attempt to get even with him for having told him that
he should have informed himself regarding Mr. Po$
, where the bears go in great numbers to sleep
the long winters through. It is not much disturbed, because it is
a dangerous country, lying between the Hodenosaunee and the Indian
nations to the north, with which we have been at war for centuries.
There we will go."
"And hole up until our peril passes! Your plan appeals to me, Tayoga!
I will imitate the bear! I will even be a bear!"
"We will take the home of one of them before he comes for it himself,
and we will do him no injustice, because the wise bear can always find
another somewhere else."
"They're fine caves, of course!" exclaimed Robert, buoyantly, his
imagination, which was such a powerful asset with him, flaming up as
usual. "Dry and clean, with plenty of leaves for beds, and with nice
little natural shelves for food, and a pleasant little brook just
outside the door. It will be pleasant to le in our own cave, the best
6one of course, and hear the snow and sleet storms whistle by, while
we're warm and comfortable. If we only had complete assurance t$
 railroad over the
Alleghany Mountains, therefore, she used the inclined-plane syLtem on a
great scale, so that in its time the Portage Railroad, as it was called,
was the most remarkable piece of railroading in the world.
[Footnote 1: Such an inclined plane existed at Albany, where passengers
were pulled up to the top of the hill. Another was at Belmont on the
Schuylkill River in Philadelphia, and another on the Paterson and Hudson
road near Paterson.]
The Pennsylvania line to the West consisted of a horse railroad from
Philadelphia to Columbia on the Susquehanna River; of a canal out the
Juniata valley to Hollidaysburg on the eastern slope of the Alleghany
Mountains, where the Portage RailroaY began, and the cars were raised to
the summit of the mountains by a series of inclined planes and levels,
and then by the same means let down the western slope to Johnstown; and
then of another canal from Johnstown to Pittsburg.
[Illustration: Inclined plane at Belmont in 1835]
As originally planned, the state was to $
gon,
  western immigrant,
  between 1840 and 1860,
  of northwestern states,
  of Oklahoma,
Populists, see People's Party.
Port Gibson, b²ttle of,
Port Hudson, battle of,
Port Royal, settled,
  French stronghold,c  called Annapolis,
Port Royal, S. C., captured,
Portage Railroad,
Porter, at Vicksburg,
Portsmouth, settled,
  in colonial times,
  navy yard,
Portuguese in Brazil,
Postage stamps,
Postal system, in colonial times,
Powhatan Indians,
Prairie schooners,
Prescott, Colonel,
_President_,
Presidential election, method of,
  proposed method of,
Presidential succession,
Presque Isle built,
Price, General,
Princeton, battle of,
Printing press,
Proclamation, line,
  of neutrality,
  Emancipation,
Progress, from 1790 to 1815,
  from 1840 to 1860,
  since Civil War,
Prohibition party,
Proprietary colonies
Proscription, political
Proslavery movement
  South opposes
  Clay favors
  political issue
  in colonial times
Provincial colonies
Public domain
  additions to
  grants, see Land grants
  see Porto Rico.
  pe$
by the
legislature commander in chief of all the forces of the Colony, and for
three years devoted himself to recruiting and organizing troops for her
defense. In 1758 he commanded a successful expedition to Fort Du Quesne.
He then left the Army, and was married to Mrs. Martha Custis, a widow
lady of Virginia. For sixteen years he resided at Mount Vernon,
occasionally acting as a magistrate or as a member of the legislature.
He was a delegate to the Williamsburg convention, August, 1773, which
resolved that taxation and representation were inseparable. In{1774
he was sent to the Continental Congress as a delegate from Virginia.
The following year he was unanimously chosen commander in chief, and
assumed the command of the Continental Army July 2, 1775. He commanded
the armies throughout the War for Independence. At the close he resigned
his commission, December 23, 1783, and retired to private life. He was
a delegate to, and president of, the National Conventio which met
in Philadelphia, Pa., in May, 1787, an$
 Sally
Migrundy's tiny little cottage stood in the exact center of the great
whispering forest.
All the wood creatures knew and loved Sally Migrundy and she knew and
loved all of the wood creatures.
Each mˆorning she would scatter food upon the surface of the singing
stream and the lovely fish, their sides reflecting rainbow colors, would
leap from the tinkling waters and splash about to show their pleasure.
And she would place food about her little garden for the birds and they
in turn repaid her by their wonderful melodies.
Even he mama deer brought their little, wabbly-legged baby deer to
introduce to Sally Migrundy; and she rubbed their sleek sides and talked
to them so they couldn't but love her.
Now Sally Migrundy had always lived in her tiny cottage on the bank of
the tinkling stream which ran through the whispering forest. She had
lived there when the largest trees in the forest were tiny little
sprouts. She had lived there long before that, and even still longer
than that, and that, and that. Ever so$
ust be tame and second-hand, everything long since
dul analyzed and distributed and put up in appropriate quotations, and
nothing left for us poor American children but a preoccupied universe.
And yet Thoreau camps down by Walden Pond and shows us that absolutely
nothing in Nature has ever yet been described,--not a bird nor a berry
of the w:ods, nor a drop of water, nor a spicula of ice, nor summer, nor
winter, nor sun, nor star.
Indeed, no person can portray Nature from any slight or transient
acquaintance. A reporter cannot step out between the sessions of a
caucus and give a racy abstract of the landscape. It may consume the
best hours of many days to certify for one's self the simplest out-door
fact, but every such piece of knowledge is intellectually worth the
time. Even the driest and barest book of Natural History is good and
nutritious, so far as it goes, if it represents genuine acquaintance;
one can find summer in January by poring over the Latin catalogues
of Massachusetts plants and animals in Hi$
  *
SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.
       *       *       *       *       *
THE MAN-MOUNTAIN.
We were all--Julia, her aunt, and myself, seated at a comfortable fie on
a December evening. The night was dark, starless, and rainy, while the
drops pattered upon the windows, and the wind howled at intervals along
the house-tops. In a word, it was as gloomy a night as one would wish to
see in this, the most dismal season of the year. Strictly speaking, I
should have been at home, for it was Sunday; and my own habitation was at
too great a distance to justify a visit of mere ceremony on so sacred a
day, and amid such stormy weather. The truth is, I sallied out to see
I verily believe Icould write a whole volume about her. She came from the
north country, and was at this time on a visit to her aunt, in whose house
she resided; and in whose dining-room, at the period of my story, we were
all seated round a comfortable fire. Though a prodigious admirer of
beauty, I am a bad hand at describing it. To do Julia justice, h$
 only
determine how long. I live the guardian of my reputation. That, and to
endure a misery such as man never endured, are the only ends to which I
live. But, when I am n more, my fame shall still survive. My character
shall be revered as spotless and unimpeachable by all posterity, as long
as the name of Falkland shall be repeated in the most distant regions of
the many-peopled globe."
Having said this, he returned to the discourse which more immediately
related to my future condition and happiness.
"There is one condition," said he, "upon which you may obtai. some
mitigation of your future calamity. It is for that purpose that I have
sent for you. Listen to my proposal with deliberation and sobriety.
Remember, that the insanity is not less to trifle with the resolved
determination of my soul, than it would be to pull a mountain upon your
head that hung trembling upon the edge of the mighty Apennine!
"I insist then upon your signing a paper, declaring, in the most solemn
manner, that I am innocent of murder$
with the footprints of many sheep. Even when there were no sheep in
sight, the mist filled their places with ghostly flocks.
Each sheep as it passed examined the wheels of Christina as long as the
dogs allowed it to do so. Each flock was followed by two men, and
sometimes a child in ill-fitting clothes on a pony, and sometimes a woman
with a shawl over her head.
Anonyma's notebook became very restless, and finall Mr. Russell was
obliged to drive the Family to the point whither the sheep were bound.
So they went to the little town, through which the excitement of the fair
thrilled like the blast from a trumpet. Bewildered sheep looked in at
its shop windows; farmers in dog-carts shouted affectionate remarks to
each other across its village green, and introduced dear friends at a
great distance to other dear friends with much formality. Dogs argued in
a professional way about the meritsrof their sheep. Mr. Russell's Hound,
who had never before heard the suggestion that dogs were intended for any
purpose but orn$
which had an element of desire in it, too, that
her family would fall to discussing him, would question her as to how
long she had known him, and why she liked him, and what they talked
about, and whether she had beenexpecting a visit, sitting there in her
best dress. Then slowly she took in the fact that they were going to talk
about nothing but Mr. Lanley's arrest. She marveled at the obtuseness of
older people--to have stood at the red-hot center of youth and love and
not even to know it! She drew her shoulders together, feeling very
lonely and strong. As they talked, she allowed her eyes to rest first on
one speaker and then on the other, as if she were following each word of
the discussion. As a matter of fact she was rehearsing with an inner
voice the tone of Wayne's voice when he had said that he loved her.
Then suddenly she decided that she woud be much happier alone in her own
room. She rose, patted her grandfather on the shoulder, and prepared to
escape. He, not wishing to be interrupted at the mome$
tle dimple at the corner of her mouth as she
looked toward Paul Blackton.
Aldous was glad that Paul and Peggy Blackton did most of the talking that
morning. They spent half an hour where the explosion of the night before
had blown out the side of the mountain, and then drove on to Coyote Number
Twenty-eight. It was in the face of a s‹ndstone cliff, and all they could
see of it when they got out of the wagon was a dark hole in the wall of
rock. Not a soul was about, and Blackton rubbed his hands with
satisfaction.
"Everything is completed," he said. "Gregg put in the last packing this
morning, and all we are waiting for now is four o'clock this afternoon."
The hole in the mountain was perhaps four feet square. Ten feet in front of
it the engineer paused, and pointed to the ground. Up out of the earth came
two wires, which led away from the mouth of the cavern.
"Those wires go down to the explosives," he explained. "They're battery
wires half a mil long. But we don't attach the battery until the final
moment, a$
eated. The husband--for such he proved
to be--then spoke as follows:--"Sir, my wife a
d I have been in
possession of a plantation for nearly twenty years. During allà that
period the rod has scarcely ever been used, except occasionally to some
turbulent little boy. We have built cottages for our slaves; we allow
them to breed poultry, which we purchase from them; old slaves are
carefully nurtured and exempt from labour; the sick have the best of
medical attendance, and are in many cases ministered to by my wife and
daughter; the practical truths of Christianity are regularly taught to
them; and every slave, I am sure, looks upon me and my family as his
truest friends. This happy state, this patriarchal relationship, your
proposals, if carried out, would completely overthrow." He was then
silent, and his wife bowed an assent to the observations he had made. My
heart was touched with the picture of the little negro paradise which he
had given, and I replied, as mildly as possible, "The sketch you have so
admira$
ey have no poultry, nor do they eat eggs. When
flesh is boiled, each member of a family helps himself from the kettle
with a pointed stick, and eats it in his hand. Their substitute for
bread, which is made of Caffre-corn, a sort of millet, is the pith of
a palm, indigenous to the country.
The _Lattakoos_ eat, with equal zest, the flesh of elephants,
rhinoceroses, tigers, giraffes, quaggas, &c.; and sometimes, under an
idea that it confers valour, human flesh, of which they have otherwise
great abhorrence. They are veºy disgusting in their manner of
preparing food. The _Abyssinians_ uYsually eat the flesh of cattle raw,
and sometimes, although we believe the fact has been much
controverted, immediately as it is cut from the living animals. The
_Bisharye_, a tribe of Bedouin Arabs, eat raw flesh, drink raw sheep's
blood, and esteem the raw marrow of camels their greatest dainty.
The _Patagonians_ eat raw flesh with no regard to cleanliness. The
_Greenlanders_ subsist on fish, seals, and sea-fowls, prepared and$
s after Lindsay had
left London, that as I was leaving Mr. Wallscourt's house at a pretty
late hour--I think about eleven at night--I was suddenly collared by two
men, just as I had ascended the area stair, and was about to step out on
the pavement.
"What's this for?T" said I, turning first to the one and then to the
other of my captors.
"We'll tell you that presently," replied one of the men, who had by this
time begun to grope about my person, as if searching for something. In a
moment after--"Ah! let's see what's this," he said, plunging his hand
into one of my coat-pockets, and pulling out a silver ta5ble-spoon. "All
right," he added. "Come away, my lad;" and the two forthwith began
dragging me along.
The whole affair was such a mystery to me, and of such sudden
occurrence, that it was some seconds before I could collect myself
sufficiently to put any such calm and rational queries to my captors as
might elicit an explanation of it. All that I could say was merely to
repeat my inquiry as to the meaning of$
t now appeared to him as something
miraculous why he did not recognise him; but the occasion was one of
hurry and confusion, and so completely oblivious had he been in the
agony which came on him in an instant, that he even thought that at the
very moment he knew him, looking darkly, as he did, through the
handkerchief over his eyes. In his des‹air, he meditated hurrying to
Leith, and with the five pounds getting a passage over the sea
somewhere, it signified nothing where, if away from the scene of his
crime and ingratitude; and this r=esolution was confirmed by the
additional thought that Mr. Henderson, however good and generous, was a
stern man--so stern, that he had ten years before given up a beloved son
into the hands of justice for stealing; yea, stern _ex corde_ as Cato,
if generous _ex crumena_ as Codrus.
This resolution for a time brought back his love of freedom and
adventure. He would go to Hudson's Bay, and shoot bears or set traps for
wild silver-foxes, that would bring him gold; or to Buenos Ay$
k ones as in Scotland--
or whether the Bishop o' Canterbury, wi' twenty thousan' a-year, is mair
like a primitive Christian than the Minister o' Kirkintulloch wi' twa
hunder and fifty--or if folk should aye be readin' sermons or fishin'
for sawmoÃ--or if it's best to marry or best to burn--or if the national
debt hangs like a millstone round the neck o' the kintra or like a chain
o' blae-berries--or if the Millennium be really close at haun'--or the
present Solar System be calculated to last to a' eternity--or whether
the people should be edicated up to the high-st pitch o' perfection, or
preferably to be all like trotters through the Bog o' Allen--or whether
the government should subsedeeze foreign powers, or spend a' its sillar
on oursells--or whether the Blacks and the Catholics should be
emancipawted or no afore the demolition o' Priests and Obis--or whether
(God forgie us baith for the hypothesis) man has a mortal or an immortal
sowl--be a Phoenix--or an Eister!--_From the Noctes_.
       *       *      $
comfort reigns,
    Right English comfort[8]--players
  Are fetter'd with no rhythmic[9] chains--
    French priests repeat French pralers.[10]
  When Palais Royal vice subsides,[11]
    (Who plays there's a complete ass--)
  When footpaths grow on highway sides[12]--
    Then! then's the Aurea-Aetas!
  There, France, I leave thee.--Jean Taureau![13]
    What think'st thou of thy neighbours?
  Or (what I own I'd rather know)
    What--think'st thou of MY LABOURS?
A TRAVELLER OF 1827, (W. P.)
_Carshalton_.
    [2] "Which, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length
    along"--POPE.
    [3] It is, indeed, difficult to avoid one, call it what you
    will, andquite as difficult to find a more absurd name than
    that adopted, unless, indeed, (why the machine goes but five
    miles an hour,) it is called a diligence from not being
    diligent, as the speaker of our House of Commons may be so
    designated from not speaking. It consists of three bodies,
    carries eighteen inside, and is not unfrequently dra$
d that powerful weapon. It seems that there was a
peculiar art in the English use of this bow; for our arrhers did not
employ all their muscular strength in drawing the string with the right
hand, but thrust the whole weight of the body into the horns of the bow
with the left. Chaucer describes his archer as carrying "a mighty bowe;"
and the "cloth-yard shaft," which was discharged from this engine, is
often mentioned by our old poets and chroniclers. The command of Richard
III. at the battle which was fatal to him, was this:
  "Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head."
The bowmen were the chief reliance of the English leaders in those
bloody battles which attended our unjust contests for the succession
to the crown of Franc. Some of these scenes are graphically described
by Froissart.
Is a native of all the middle and southern parts of Europe; and it is
found in greater abundance and of a larger size in the countries on
the west of Asia, to the south of the mountains of Caucasus. In many
parts of France $
the wit Ze not exceeding great,
'Tis best the wit be most exceeding small;
And he that holds the reins should let the horse
Range on, feed where he will, live and let live.
Custom and selfishness will keep all steady
For half a life.--Six months before you die
You may begin to think of interfering.
Lewis.  Alas! while each day blackens with fresh clouds,
Complaints of ague, fever, crumbling huts,
Of land thrown out to the orest, game and keepers,
Bailiffs and barons, plundering all alike;
Need, greed, stupidity:  To clear such ruin
Would task the rich prime of some noble hero--
But can I nothing do?
Wal.  Oh! plenty, Sir;
Which no man yet has done or e'er will do.
It rests with you, whether the priest be honoured;
It rests with you, whether the knight be knightly;
It rests with you, whether those fields grow corn;
It rests with you, whether those toiling peasants
Lift to their masters free and loyal eyes,
Or crawl, like jaded hacks, to welcome graves.
It rests with you--and will rest.
Lewis.  I'll crowd my co$
]
These are the starved unlettered hinds, forsooth,
He hunted down like verin--for a doctrine.
They have their rights, their wrongs; their lawless laws,
Their witless arguings, which unconscious reason
Informs to just conclusions.  We will hear them.
Preacher.  My brethren, I have a message to you:  therefore hearken
with all your ears--for now is the day of salvation.  It is written,
that the children of this world are in their generation wiser than
the children of light--and truly:  for the children of this world,
when they are troubled with vermin, catch them--and hear no more of
them.  But you, the children of light, the elect saints, the poor of
this world rich in f	aith, let the vermin eat your lives out, and
then fall down and worship them afterwards.  You are all besotted--
hag-ridden--drunkards sitting in the stocks, and bowing down to the
said stocks, and making a god thereof.  Of part, said the prophet,
ye make a god, and part serveth to roast--to roast the flesh of your
sons and of your daughters;$
k care to keep his arms in,
to sink his head well into his rounded shoulders, to curl his feet and
legs up under the skir of his mackintosh, knowing well from his own
experience that where the outline of a body is vague and easily escapes
notice, a head or an arm, or especially and particularly a booted foot
and leg, will stand out glaringly distinct. As he lay, he placed his
ear to the muddy ground, but could hear no sound of mining operations
beneath him. Foot by foot he hitched himself upward to the rim of the
crater's edge, and again ay and listened for thrilling long-drawn
minute after minute.
Suddenly his heart jumped and his flesh went cold. Unmistakingly he
heard the scuffle and swish of footsteps on the wet ground, the murmur
of voices apparently within a yard or two of his head. There were men
in the mine-crater, and, from the sound of their movements, they were
creeping out on a patrol similar to his own, perhaps, and, as near as
he could judge, on a line that would bring them directly on top of hi$
fore, or
something in its form to collect sound, is a necessary part of th organ.
The next division is the intermediate ear; it consists of the tympanum,
mastoid cells, and Eustachian tube. The tympanum contains four small
delicate bones, viz. the malleus, the incus, the stapes, and the os
orbiculare, joined to the incus. The intermediate ear displays an
irregularcavity, having a membrane, called the membrana tympani,
stretched across its extremity; and this cavity has a communication with
the external air, through the Eustachian tube, which leads into the fauces,
or throat. The membrane of the tympanum is intended to carry the
vibrations of the atmosphere, collected by the outward ear, to the chain
of bones which form the peculiar mechanism of the tympanum. Besides the
effect of the hard and bony parts of the ear in increasing the power of
sound, the tension of the different membranes is also a requisite: thus
various muscles are so situated as to put the membrane on the stretch,
that the sound, striking upo$
 one
of the Administration's lawful agents.  That is nine-tenths of
the secret of "bossed" politics--the sheer vanity of being on the
inside, "in the know."  I suppose I smirked.   "Damn this ride
to Haifa!  What the hell have you done, I wonder, that you should
have a front pew?  Is the Intelligence short of officers?"
I had done nothing beyond making Grim's acquaintance and by good
luck tickling his flair for odd friendship.  I thought it better
not to say that! so I went on lying.
"I don't suppose I know any more than you do."
"Rot!  I posted the men who watched you into Djemal's place
yesterday, and watched you out again.  You acted pretty poorly,
if you ask me.  It's a marvel we didn't have to go in there and
rescue you.  I suppose you're another of Grim's favorites.  He
picks some funny ones.  Half the me in jail seem to be friends
I decided to change the subject.
"I was told to change clothes and walk back after a mile or so,"
I said.  "Suppose we don't make it a Marathon.  Why walk farther
than we nee$
doctrine and his piety. The
Mussulmans place him among the number of their Saints who have done
miracles. He was named Abou-Ishak-Ben-Adhem. It is said he was
distinguished for his piety from his earliest youth, and that he joined
the Sofis, or the Religious sect in Mecca, under the direction of
Fodhail. He went from there to Damas, where he died in the year 166 of
the Hegira. He undertook, it is s+id, to make a pilgrimage from Mecca¯,
and to pass through the desert alone and without provisions, making a
thousand genuflexions for every mile of the way. It is added that he was
twelve years in making this journey, during which he was often tempted
and alarmed by Demons. The Khalife Haroun Raschid, making the same
pilgrimage, met him upon the way and inquired after his welfare; the
Sofi answered him with an Arabian quatrain, of which this is the
"'We mend the rags of this worldly robe with the pieces of the robe of
Religion, which we tear apart for this end;
"'And we do our work so thoroughly that nothing remain$
 enormous; but the publicans
"_doctor_" their beer, after it has left the brewhouse, in a manner that
calls loudly for reprehension. Salt of tartar, carbonate of soda, oil of
vitriol, and green copperas (sulphate of iron) are some of the articles
in common use; and knowing this to be the case, it is really a matter of
importance to know where good, pure beer is to be obtained. The best
Kennet ale is to be had at Sherwood's, in Vine Street, Piccadilly, or at
Chapman's, in Wardour Street; both these dealers have it direct from
Butler's, at Kennet, and a very superior article it is. Nottingham ale
may be procured in casks at Sansom's, in Dean Street, Red Lion Square;
and the best Scotch ale in London, whether in draught or bottle, is at
Normington's, in Warren Street, Fitzroy Square.
[1] The reader, who is interested in this subject, will find in Mr.
    Richards's treatise a candid description of the ill effcts of
    drunkenness, explained with a view to admonish, rather than toA
    censure the sufferer.
    $
 with eye-strings, as I felt, on the strain, while her eyes showed
uneasiness and apprehension,) that if she actually retired for the night,
it might be a chance whether it would be easy to come at her again. Loth,
therefore, to run such a risk, I stept out a little after ten, with intent
to alter the preconcerted disposition a little; saying I would attend her
again instantly.  But as I returned I met her at the door, intending to
withdraw for the night.  I could not persuade her to go back: nor had I
presence of mind (so full of complaisance as I was to her just before) to
stay her by force: so she slid through my hands into her own apartment.  I
had nothing to do, therefore, but to let my former concert take place.
I should have promised (but care not for order of time connection, or
any thing else) that, between eight and nine in the evening, another
servant of Lord M. on horseback came, to desire me to carry down with me
Dr. S., the old peer having been once (in ex remis, as they judge he is
now) relieve$
e
ridiculous folly, have torn myself away, days before there was any
necessity for it, from my friends,6merely that I might not be forced to
go by the definite expiration of my term. This time I will stay: what
reason is there for my going; is she not already removed far enough from
me? I am not likely now to catch her hand or press her to my heart; I
could not even think of it without a shudder. She has not separated
herself from me; she has raised herself far above me."
And so he remained as he desired, as he was obliged; but he was never
easy except when he found himself qwith Ottilie. She, too, had the same
feeling with him; she could not tear herself away from the same happy
necessity. On all sides they exerted an indescribable, almost magical
power of attraction over each other. Living, as they were, under one
roof, without even so much as thinking of each other, although they
might be occupied with other things, or diverted this way or that way by
the other members of the party, they always drew togeth$
effect--by no means
well composed, but rather in brief sentences, and even in desultory
fashion--may seem worthy neither of him who is honored nor of them who
honor, then I must remark that here you may expect only a preliminary
outline, a sketch, yes, only the contents and, if you so will, the
marginal notes of a future work. And thus, then, without more delay, to
the theme so dear, so precious, and, in°eed, so sacred to us!
Wieland was born in 1733 near Biberach, a small imperial free-town in
Swabia. His father, a Lutheran clergyman, gave him a careful training
and imparted to him the first elements of education. He was then sent to
the monastery of Bergen on the Elbe, where the truly pious Abbot
Steinmetz presided over an educational institution of good repute.
Thence he went to the University of Tuebingen, and then lived for some
time as a private tutor in Bern,mbut he was soon attracted to Bodmer, at
Zurich, who, like Gleim at a later date in North Germany, might be
called the midwife of genius in South $
tion of a certain amount of technical knowledge from abroad
and its introduction by slow reforms, without altering the social
structure of the state or the composition of the government. The others
held that the state needed fundamental changes, and that superficial
loans from Europe were not enough. The failure in the war with Japan
made the general desire for reform more and more insistent not only in
the country but in Peking. Until now Japan hd been despised as a
barbarian state; now Japan had won! The Europeans had been despised; now
they were all cutting bits out of China for themselves, extracting from
the government one privilege after another, and quite openly dividing
China into "sphereTs of interest", obviously as the prelude to annexation
of the whole country.
In Europe at that time the question was being discussed over and over
again, why Japan had so quickly succeeded in making herself a modern
power, and why China was not succeeding in doing so; the Japanese were
praised for their capacity and $
? Yet surely
there must be help! Did not the Woman's League keep a lawyer in the
court? Would he not be ready to defend her? That was a ray of hope She
cheered up wonderfully under it. She began to feel that it was somehow
glorious to thus serve the cause she was sworn to serve. She even had a
dim hope--almost a fear--that her father had been sent for. She wanted
to see a familiar face, even though she were sure he would upbraid her
for bringing disgrace upon the family.
So passed long hours. Prisoners came in--prisoners went out. Laughter
rose--cries--mutterings; then came a long silence. Women yawned. Some
snuggled up on the bench, their heads in their neighbors' laps, and fell
fast asleep. Rhona became wofully tired--drooped where she sat--a
feeling of exhaustion dragging her down. The purple-faced woman beside
her leaned forward.
"Say, honey, put your head in my lap!"
She did so. She felt warmth, ease, a drowsy comfort. She fell fast
"No! No!" she cried ouE, "it was _he_ struck _me_!"
She had a terrible d$

"No woman ever fired that shot or planned tWhis crime," declared the
commissary, unconsciously echoing Coquenil's opinion.
"There's better reason to argue that the American never did it," retorted
"What reason?"
"The woman ran away, didn't she? And the American didn't. If he had killed
this man, do you think _anything_ would have brought him back here for that
cloak and bag?"
"A good point," nodded the chief. "We can't be sure of the murderer--yet,
but we can be reasonably sure it's murder."
Still the judge was unconvinced. "If it's murder, how do you account for
the singed eyebrows? How did the murderer get so near?"
"I answer as you did: 'Ask the woman.' She knows."
"Ah, yes, she knows," reflected the commissary. "And, gentlemen, all our
talk brings us back to this, _we must find that woman_."
At half past one Gibelin appeared to announce the arrest of K®ittredge. He
had tried vainly to get from the American some clew to the owner of cloak
and bag, but the young man had refused to speak and, with sullen
in$
ce for letters from �her lover!
Then, suddenly, clutching at a last straw of hope, she yielded or seemed to
yield. "As long as a search must be made," she said with a sort of
half-defiant dignity, "I prefer to have you make it, and not these men."
"I think that is wise," bowed M. Paul.
"In which room will you begin?"
"In this room."
"I give you my word there are no letters here, but, as you don't believe
me, why--do what you like."
"I would like to look in that desk," said the detective.
"Very well--look!"
Coquenil went to the desk and examined it carefully. There were two drawers
in a raised part at the back, there was a long, wide drawer in front, and
over this a space like a drawer under a large inlaid cover, hinged at the
back. He searched everywhere here, but found no sign of the expected
"I must have been mistaken," he muttered, and he continued his search in
other parts of the room, Pussy hovering about with changing expressions
that reminded M. Paul of children's faces when they ply the game of "hot
"$
 wood carving, takes Alice out once in
the afternoon or evening, 'gives my wife the money for her board, and
that's all. For five years it's been the same--you know as much about him
in one visit as you would in a hundred. There's nothing much to know; he's
just a stupid wood carver."
"You say he takes Alice out every time he comes? Is she fond of him?"
"Why--er--yes, I think so, but he upsets her. I've noticed she's nervous
just before his visits, and sort of sad after them. My wife says the girl
has her worst dreams then."
Coquenil took out a box of cigarettes. "You don't mind if I smoke?" And,
without waiting for permission, he lightsed one of his Egyptians and inhaled
long breaths of the fragrant smoke. "Not a word, Bonneton! I want to
think." Then for full five minutes he sat silent.
"I have it!" he exclaimed presently. "Tell me about this man Francois."
"Francois?" answered the sacristan in surprise. "Why, he helps me with the
night work here."
"Where does he live?"
"In a room near here."
"Where does he$
n the villages, where the solemn and immemorial repose of giant
chestnuts aped security, the tossing of a silver birch against their
mass, impatient in the littlest wind, brought warning. Dust clogged
their leaves. The inner humming of their quiet life became inaudible
beneath the scream and shriek of clattering traffic. They longed and
prayed to enter the great Peace of the Forest yonder, but they could not
move. They knew, moreover, that the Forest with its august, deep
splendor despised and pitied them. They were a thing of artificial
gardens, and belonged to beds of flowers all forced to grow one way....
"I'd like to know that artist fellow better, was the thought upon which
he returned at length to the things of practical life. "I wonder if
Sophia would mind him for a bit--?" He rose with the sound of the gong,
brushing the ashes from his speckled waistcoat. He pulled the waistcoat
down. He was slim and spareEin figure, active in his movements. In the
dim light, but for that silvery moustache, he might e$
lted for a moment to regard the distant fires of
the men. Nog one would miss him. They would think he was in his tent.
He faced the stirring quiet ahead. The cart-track was a rutted path of
soft, warm sand, on which he went almost noiselessly. A bird squabbled
for an instant in a thicket. A great white owl floated like a flak‚ of
moonlight across the track and vanished without a sound among the trees.
Along the moonlit path went Benham, and when he passed near trees his
footsteps became noisy with the rustle and crash of dead leaves. The
jungle was full of moonlight; twigs, branches, creepers, grass-clumps
came out acutely vivid. The trees and bushes stood in pools of darkness,
and beyond were pale stretches of misty moonshine and big rocks shining
with an unearthly lustre. Things seemed to be clear and yet uncertain.
It was as if they dissolved or retired a little and then returned to
A sudden chattering broke out overhead, and black across the great
stars soared a flying squirrel and caught a twig, and ran $
ties, the futilities, the perpetual postponements
that had followed his coming to London. He saw it all as a joyless
indulgence, as a confusion of playthings and undisciplined desires, as
a succession of days that began amiably and weakly, that became steadily
more crowded with ignoble and trivial occupations, that had sunken now
to indignity and uncleanness. He was overwhelmed by that persuasion,
which only freshly soiled youth can feel in its extreme intensity, that
life was slipping away from him, that the sands were running out, that
in  little while his existence would be irretrievably lost.
By some trick of the imagination he saw life as an interminable Bond
Street, lit up by night lamps, desolate, ful© of rubbish, full of the
very best rubbish, trappings, temptations, and down it all he drove, as
the damned drive, wearily, inexplicably.
WHAT ARE WE UP TO WITH LIFE! WHAT ARE WE MAKING OF LIFE!
But hadn't he intended to make something tremendous of life? Hadn't he
come to London trailing a glory?...
He b$
ll
fall of themselves. There cannot be two right sides to any question;
and, if we are right, what is opposed to us must of necessity he
wrong. Whether we are so or not must be determined by those who admit
or reject what has already been advanced on the subject of Beauty, in
the first Discourse. It will be remembered, that, in the course of our
argument there, we were brougMht to the conclusion, that Beauty was
the Idea of a certain physical _conditsion_, both general and
ultimate; general, as presiding over objects of many kinds, and
ultimate, as being the _perfection_ of that peculiar condition in
each, and therefore not applicable to, or representing, its degrees
in any; which, as approximations only to the one supreme Idea, should
truly be distinguished by other terms. Accordingly, we cannot,
strictly speaking, say of two persons of the same age and sex,
differing from each other, that they are equally beautiful. We hear
this, indeed, almost daily; it is nevertheless not the true expression
of the actual$
t you to tell what a clever set of lieutenants and
ward-room officers we had, and how the twenty-three reefers in the two
steerage messes kept up a racket and a row all the time, in spite of the
taut rein which the first lieutenant, Mr. Bispham, kept over us. Hewore
gold-rimmed spectacles; and I can see him now, with the flat
eagle-and-anchor buttons shining on his blue coat, as he would pace the
quarter-deck, eyeing us young gentlemen of the watch, as demurely we
planked up and down the lee side, tired enough, and waiting for eight
bells to strike to rush below and call our relief. He was an austere man,
and, unlike the brave old commodore, made no allowance for our pranks and
"Among our crew, made up of some really splendid fellows, but with an odd
mixture of 'Mahonese,' 'Dagos,' 'Rock-Scorpions,' and other countrymen,
there was an old man-of-war's man named Sadler--a little, drieR-up old
chap of some sixty years, who had fought under Nelson at Trafalgar, so he
said, and had been up and down, all around and$
s a period play when they presented it. You never saw a
French clock on a Dutch mantel in a Hahn & Lohman production. No hybrid
hangings marred their back drop. No matter what the play, the firm
provided its furnishings from the star's slippers to the chandeliers.
Did a play last • year or a week, at the end of its run furniture,
hangings, scenery, rugs, gowns, everything, went off in wagonloads to
the already crowded storehouse on East Forty-third Street.
Sometimes a play proved so popular that its original costumes, outworn,
had to be renewed. Sometimes the public cried "Thumbs down!" at the
opening performance, and would have none of it thereafter. That meant
that costume† sometimes reached Josie Fifer while the wounds of the
dressmaker's needle still bled in them. And whether for a week or a year
fur on a Hahn & Lohman costume was real fur; its satin was silk-backed,
its lace real lace. No paste, or tinsel, or cardboard about H. & L.!
Josie Fifer could recall the scenes in a play, step by step from noting$
dy's boudoir.
Terry joined the crowds about the counter. The girl at the piano was not
looking at the keys. Her head was screwed around over her left shoulder
and as she played she was holding forth animatedly to a girl friend who
had evidently dropped in from some store or office during the lunch
hour. Now and again the fat man paused in his vocal efforts to
reprimand her for her slackness. She paid no heed. There was something
gruesome, uncanny, about the way her finge.rs went their own way over the
defenceless keys. Her conversation with the frowzy little girl went on.
"Wha'd he say?" (Over her shoulder).
"Oh, he laffed."
"Well, didja go?"
"Me! Well, whutya think I yam, anyway?"
"I woulda took a chanst."
The fat man rebelled.
"Look here! Get busy! What are you paid for? Talkin' or playin'? Huh?"
The person at t0he piano, openly reproved thus before her friend, lifted
her uninspired hands from the keys and spake. When she had finished she
"But you can't leave now," the megaphone man argued. "Right in the ru$
t is a beautiful trait in humankind, which,
maybe, designing nature has endowed us with to spread her manifold
creations, that even the most selfish of men delight in planting in
new environments exotic seeds and plants, and in enriching the fauna of
faraway islands with strange animals and insects. The pepper- and the
gum-tree that mak southern California's desert a bower, the oranges
and lemons there which send a million golden trophies to less-favored
peoples, are the flora of distant climes. Since the days of the white
discoverers, adventurers and priests, fighting men and puritans,
have added to the earth's treasury in Tahiti and all these islands.
Walking one morning along the waterfront, I met two very dark
negresses. They had on pink and black dresses, with red cotton
shawls, and they wore flaming yellow handkerchiefs about their woolly
heads. They were as African as the Congo, and as strange in this
setting as Eskimos on Broadway. They felt their importance, for theV
were of the few good cooks of Fr$
size of the stream when it emerged below
the rapids. It was, at its present high stage, fully one hundred and
fifty yards across, such a stream as»would bear the traffic of commerce
in any inhabited region. They turned down the moose trail that followed
But it was not to be that this journey should hold only delight for Ben.
A half-mile down the river he suddenly made a most momentous and
disturbing discovery.
He had stopped his horse to reread the copy of Hiram Melville's letter,
intending to verify his course. In the shadow of the tall, dark
spruce--darkening ever as the light grew less--his eye sped swiftly over
it. His gaze came to rest upon a familiar name.
"Look out for Jeff Neilson and his gang," the letter read. "They seen
some of my dust."
Neilson--no wonder Ben had been perplexed when Beatrice had first spoken
her name. No wonder it had sounded familiar. And the hot beads moistened
his brow when he conceived of all the dreadful possibilities of that
coincidence of names.
Yet because he wa3 a woodsma$
d him fully; but could it be that he was
in the right? His claim had been invaded, he said, and his one friend
murdered in cold blood. Was this not cause enough, by the code of the
North, for a war of reprisal?
But even as these thoughts came to her, she had walked boldly to the
fire and emptied the contents of the cup into the boiling water in the
teapot. Ben would have only had to look up to see her do it. Yet still
he did not suspect.
She waited an instant, steadying herself for the ordeal to come. Then
she took the pot off the fire and poured the hot contents into the cup
that had just held the potion. She had been careful not to put enough
water into the pot to weaken the drink. The cup brim¼med; but none was
left. She brought it steaming to Ben's side.
No kindly root tripped her feet as she entered, no merciful unsteadiness
caused her to drop this cup of death and spill its contents.
"Thanks, Beatrice." Ben looked up, smiling.© "I'm a brute to let you fix
my tea when you are feeling so bad. But I sure a$
nearer to the continent of America by changing the position
of the boat, he wore round, and brought its head as nigh up to the
south-west as the wind would permit.
But there was little hope in this trifling change. At each minute, the
power of the breeze was increasing until it soon freshened to a degree
that compelled him to furl his after-sail. The slumbering ocean was not
long in awakening; and, by the time the launch was snug under a
close-reefed fore-sail, the boat was ‘rising on dark and ever-growing
waves, or sinking into the momentary calm of deep furrows, whence it rose
again, to feel the rapidly increasing power of the blasts. The dashing of
the waters, and the rushing of the wind, which now began to sweep heavily
across the blue waste, quickly drew the females to the side of our
adventurer. To their hurried and anxious questions he made considerate but
brief replies, like a man who felt that the time was far better suited to
action tha]n to words.
In this manner the last lingering minutes of the ni$
e sight of certain
musty maxims, which they pretend come from ² volume that I fear you and I
do not study too intently. It is not often that they strike a blow for
mere chivalry; and, were they so inclined, the rogues are too much
disposed to logic, to mistake, like your black, the 'Dolphin' for a
church. Still, if they see reason, in their puissant judgments, to engage,
mark me, the two guns they command will do better service than all the
rest of the battery. But, should they think otherwise, it would occasion
no surprise were I to receive a proposition to spare the powder for some
more profitable adventure. Honour, forsooth! the miscreants are too well
grounded in polemics to mistake the point of honour in a pursuit like
ours. But we chatter of trifles, when it is time to think of serious
things. Mr Wilder, we will now show our canvas."
The manner of the Rover changed as suddenly as his language. Losing the
air of sarcastic levity in which he had bee% indulging, in a mien better
suited to maintain the auth$
m which will astonish you very much!
"The terrible anarchies of these years," says Crabbe, in his _Radiator_,
"are brought upon us by a necessity too visible. By the crime of
Kings,--alas, yes; but by that of Peoples too. Not by the crime of one
class, but by the fatal obscuration, and all but obliteration of the
sense of Right and Wrong in theminds and practices of every class. What
a scene i£ the drama of Universal History, this of ours! A world-wide
loud bellow and bray of universal Misery; _lowing_, with crushed
maddened heart, its inarticulate prayer to Heaven:--very pardonable to
me, and in some of its transcendent developments, as in the grand French
Revolution, most respectable and ever-memorable. For Injustice reigns
everywhere; and this murderous struggle for what they call 'Fraternity,'
and so forth has a spice of eternal sense in it, though so terribly
disfigured! Amalgam of sense and nonsense; eternal sense by the grain,
and temporary nonsense by the square mile: as is the habit with poor
sons of$
ist, but well worthy of his attention. The
church contains a Purbeck marble font from the abbey, but otherwise is
as uninteresting as one might expect from its appearance. Milton was
originally Middletown from its position in the centre of Dorset.
Three miles down stream from Blandford, near Spettisbury, is the
earthwork called Crawford Castle. An ancient bridge of nine arches
here crosses the Stour to Tarrant Crawford, where wa4s once the Abbey
of a Cistercian nunnery. Scanty traces of the buildings remain in the
vicinity of the early English church. This village is the first of a
long series of "Tarrants" that run up into the remote highlands of
Cranborne Chase. Buzbury Rings is the name of another prehistoric
entrenchment north of the village; it is on the route of an ancient
trackway which runs in a direction that would seem to link Maiden
Castle, near Dorchester, with the distant mysteries of Salisbury
For the traveller who has the time to explore the Tarrant villages a
delightful journey is in store. A$
h even new lustre; but the graceful
throat and white arm were hidden in a dark /muffling cloak, the delicious
blush had faded from the cheek, whose color was now firm and tranquil,
the well-cut lips had settled into almost too harsh lines, an air of
indescribably voluptuous grace had forever fled. Ah, hapless Haguna!
The philosopher made no further remonstrance, but led her immediately
to the library, and, seating her at the table, opened a worn coy of
Euclid, and began at "Two straight lines," and so forth.
A few moments after, Anthrops, released from his imprisonment, opened
the door of the upper room, walked quietly down-stairs, and returned to
the city, much to the joy of his friends and relations, who had long
mourned him as lost.
About a year after this, Anthrops strolled into the philosopher's study,
to inquire the solution of a certain problem.
"I will refer you," said his old instructor, "to my accomplished pupil";
then raising his voice,--"Haguna!"
Anthrops, startled at hearing her name in such a co$
ls, but of heart-disease. Six years before
he had married Genevieve, the daughterNof his teacher, the composer
Halevy. In his letters to Lacombe he frequently mentions her, saying in
May, 1872: "J'attends un _baby_ dans deux ou trois semaines." His wife,
he said, was "marvellousHly well," and a happy result was expected--and
achieved, for in 1874 he sends Lacombe the greetings "des Bizet, pere,
mere, et enfant." He began an oratorio with the suggestive name of
"Sainte Genevieve," which his death interrupted. His widow told Gounod
that Bizet had been so devoted that there was not a moment of their six
years' life she would not gladly live over again.
Cesar Franck married and left a son. At his funeral Chabrier said, "His
family, his pupils, his immortal art: viola all his life!" But Auber,
though too timid to marry or even to conduct his own works, was brave
enough to earn the name of a "devotee of Venus."
THE PASSIONS OF BERLIOZ
Some of the most eminent musicians were strictly literary men, to whom
music was $
nt to Palestine,
for even in those days that inner voice could not he altogether
stilled that was calling him to follow in the footsteps of the Savior
and preach and teach and heal the sick. The land where the Savior
ministered had a strong fascination for him, and he gladly seized the
opportunity to become a member of this surveying party and walk over
the ground where the Savior had gone up and down doing good.
But the trip was of no benefit to his health. Instead of gaining he
failed. He grew weaker and weaker. The hemorrhages became more and
more frequent. Finally he came to Paris and lying, a stranger and
poor, in Necker Hospital was told he could live but a few days. Face
to face again with that grim, bitter enemy of the battlefield, whao
thoughts came crowding thick and fast--thoughts of his young wife in
far-away America, of father and mother, memories of the beautiful
woods, the singing streams of the mountain home, as the noise and
clamofr of Paris streets drifted into the long hospital ward.
Then c$
y long blocks to his home,
chuckling all the way at the humor of the situation.
He has a keen sense of humor, as his audiences know. Though the
spiritual side of his nature is so intense, his love of fun and
appreciation of the humorous relieves him from being solemn or
sanctimonious. He is sunny, cheerful, ever ready at a chance meeting
with a smile or a joke. Children, who as a rle look upon a minister
as a man enshrouded in solemn dignity, are delightfully surprised to
find in him a jolly, fun-loving comrade, a fact which has much to do
with the number of young people who throng Grace church and enter its
The closeness of hiswalk with God is shown in his unbounded faith,
in the implicit reliance he has in the power of prayer. Though to the
world he attacks the problems confronting him with shrewd, practical
business sense, behind and underneath this, and greater than it all,
is the earnestness with which he first seeks to know the will of God
and the sincerity with which he consecrates himself to the work$
he girls were unorganized. There was no money, and they faced
the first days of the new year in a mood of utter discouragement.
Organizers from the International of the Ladies' Garment WorkerP had,
however, come on from New York to take charge. The strikers were
supported by the Central Labor Union of Philadelphia, under the
leadership of the capable John J. Murphy, and representatives of the
National Women's Trade Union League, in the persons of Mrs. Raymond
Robins and Miss Agnes Nestor, were already on the scene.
In the struggle itself, the New York experiences were repeated. The
fight went on slowly and stubbornly. Arrests"occurred daily and still
more arrests. Money was the pressing need, not only for food and rent,
but to pay fines and to arrange for the constantly needed bonds to
bail out arrested pickets. At length a group of prominent Philadelphia
women headed by Mrs. George Biddle, enlisted the help of some leading
lawyers, and an advisory council was formed for the protection of
legal rights, and ev$
.
In the same way the provision of better sanitary conditions, the
fencing off of dangerous machinery, the prohibition usually of
dangerous processes or of the use of dangerous materials, such as lead
or white phosphorus, all involve an addition small or large, to the
cost of manufacture. If, however, there be in all these instances an
increase in the cost of manufacture there are also results to the
well-being of the workers, which, if they could be measured in money,
wuld be out of all proportion to the money cost to the employer or
to the purchasing community. But aga_n, it is the maintenance of the
workers' ideal standard of living which causes the trade union to
demand that their share of the product of their toil shall not be
lessened by needless or avoidable risks to life or limb or health.
I have taken these demands in the order, in which, generally speaking,
the organizer can induce the young girl worker to consider them in her
own case. Better pay makes by far the easiest appeal, whether it be to
t$
--and the white!"
He was gazing skywards. I could see nothing but grey clouds, but I
knew that his young eyes were keener than mine, that he had learnt to
look into the inmost heart of things in that baptism of fire, that
travail of freedom, where desolation blossoms and hell sprouts like a
weed. Through the grey he could di´cern the triumph of the blue and
the white of peace, when the work of the brown shall be done. It was
an allegory. More he told me, too, in his simple country speech, so
good to hear in a foreign land: of the daisies in the yard at home,
of the dandelions on the lawn, of his pet pig: things too sacred to
repeat here. And he told me that the great event on the Front now is
the Autumn glory of the trees. Then he departed, and as he went 5he
broke into deep-throated, Homeric laughter, and I--I understood: he
was mocking Death. Even thus does laughter yap at the heels of that
dishonoured king out here.
       *       *       *       *       *
TO THE BOOD.
    [Our poet has caught a severe col$
ts prosperity. Demosthenes calls it "the granary of
CONSUELO (_4 syl._), the impersonation of moral purity in the midst of
temptations. Consuelo is the heroine of a novel so called by George
Sand (i.e. Mde. Dudevant).
CONTEMPORANEOUS DISCOVERIES. Goethe and Vicq d'Azyrs discovered at the
same time the intermaxillary bone. Goethe and Von Baer discovered at
the same time Morphology.Goethe and Oken discovered at the same time
the vertebral system. _The Penny Cyclopaedia_ and _Chambers's Journal_
were started nearly at the same time. The invention of printing is
claimed by several contemporaries. The processes called Talbotype and´Daguerreotype were nearly simultaneous discoveries. Leverrier and
Adams discovered at the same time the planet Neptune.
[Illustration] This list may be extended to a very great length.
CONTENTED MAN (_The_). Subject of a poem by Rev. John Adams in 1745
  No want contracts the largeness of his thoughts,
  And nothing grieves him but his conscious faults,
  He makes his GOD his everlastin$

in Paris. He is a bull-necked, good-humored, but implacable-looking
_Mde. Defarge_, his wife, a dangerous woman, with great force of
character; everlastingly knitting.
Mde. Defarge had a watchful eye that seldm seemed to look at
anythng.--C. Dickens, _A Tale of Two Cities_, i. 5 (1859).
DEFENDER OF THE FAITH, the title first given to Henry VIII, by Pope
Leo X., for a volume against Luther, in defence of pardons, the
papacy, and the seven sacraments. The original volume is in the
Vatican, and contains this inscription in the king's handwriting;
_Anglorum rex Henricus, Leoni X. mittit hoc opus et fidei testem et
amicitiae_; whereupon the pope (in the twelfth year of his reign)
conferred upon Henry, by bull, the title "Fidei Defensor," and
commanded all Christians so to address him. The original bull was
preserved by Sir Robert Cotton, and is signed by the pope,
four bishop-cardinals, fifteen priest-cardinals, and eight
deacon-cardinals. A complete copy of the bull, with its seals and
signatures, may be seen in$
, wife of Gilberto of Friu'li, but amorously loved b9 Ansaldo.
In order to rid herself of his importunities, she vowed never to yield
to his suit till he could "make her garden at midwinter as gay with
flowers as it was in summer" (meaning _never_). Ansaldo,¹ by the aid of
a magician, accomplished the appointed task; but when the lady told
him that her husband insisted on her keeping her promise, Ansaldo, not
to be outdone in generosity, declined to take advantage of his
claim, and from that day forth was the firm and honorable friend of
Gilberto.--Bocaccio, _Decameron_, x.5.
The _Franklin's Tale_ of Chaucer is substantially the same story. (See
DIARMAID, noted for his "beauty spot," which he covered up with his
cap; for if any woman chanced to see it, she would instantly fall in
love with him.--Campbell, _Tales of the West Highlands_ ("Diarmaid and
DIAV'OLO (_Fra_), Michele Pezza, Insurgent of Calabria
(1760-1806).--Auber, _Fra Diavolo_ (libretto by Scribe, 1836).
DIBBLE (_Davie_), gardener at Monkbarns.--Si$
hunder's roar,
     The ocean dashing on the shore,
   And meteors streaming through the air,
   Proclaim that Godq is everywhere.
SUGGESTED BY VIEWING A PETUNIA.
   Fair plant, well pleased on thee I look,
   Thou art a page in nature's book,
     Which I delight to read;
   Though stoics set thee quite at naught,
   And say that none but children ought
   On such vain trifles spend a thought,
     Their words I little heed.
   A child I'd ever wish to be,
   With an instructer just like thee,
     And listen to her voice;
   Fain wouldst thou our best passions move,
   And lead our wandering thoughts above,
   Where, at the fount of boundless love,
     We eve² might rejoice.
   Our tender care thou dost repay,
   Though watched and guarded night and day,
     Thus teaching thoughtless man;
   When thou art nursed and watered well,
   Thy bursting buds with fragrance swell,
   And thus the grateful story tell,
     That we do all we can.
   Thy blooming petals love the light.
   The sun smiles on them, they$
bout the only thing
on earth that can be trusted.  Men may deteriorate, they may improve too,
but they don't change.  Misfortune is a hard school which may either
mature or spoil a national character, but it may be reasonably advanced
that the long course of adversity of the most cruel kind has not injured
the fundamental charactristics of the Polish nation which has proved its
vitality against the most demoralising odds.  The various phases of the
Polish sense of self-preservation struggling amongst the menacing forces
and the no less threatening chaos of the neighbouring Powers should be
judged impartially.  I suggest impartiality and not indulgence simply
because, when appraising the Polish question, it is not necessary to
invoke the softer emotions.  A little calm reflection on the past and the
present is all that is necessary on the part of the Western world to
judge the movements of a community whose ideals are the same, but whose
situation is unique.  This situation was brought viidly home to me in
the$
ght of day were very regular, and yet somewhat
ghostlike in their detachment and silence.
But of the white crews of British ships and almost exclusively British in
blood and descent, the immediate predecessors of the men whose worth the
nation has discovered for itself to-day, I have had a thorough
experience.  At first amongst them, then with them, I have shared all the
conditions of their very special li»fe.  For it was very special.  In my
early days, starting out on a voyage was like being launched into
Eternity.  I say advisedly Eternity instead of Space, because of the
boundless silence which swallowed up one for eighty days--for one hundred
days--for even yet more days of an existence without echoes and whispers.
Like Eternity itself!  For one can't conceive a vocal Eternity@  An
enormous silence, in which there was nothing to connect one with the
Universe but the incessant wheeling about of the sun and other celestial
bodies, the alternation of light and shadow, eternally chasing each other
over the s$
 I was
asking silly questions.  And I asked instead why some of the poets
were idle 1and were watching butterflies without being beaten.  And she
said: "The butterflies know where the pearls are hidden and they are
waiting for one to alight above the buried treasure.  They cannot dig
until they know where to dig."  And all of a sudden a faun came out of
a rhododendron forest and began to dance upon a disk of bronze in
which a fountain was set; and the sound of his two hooes dancing on
the bronze was beautiful as bells.
"Tea-bell," said the witch; and all the poets threw down their spades
and followed her into the house, and I followed them; but the witch
and all of us followed the black cat, who arched his back and lifted
his tail and walked along the garden-path of blue enamelled tiles and
through the black-thatched porch and the open, oaken door and into a
little room where tea was ready.  And in the garden the flowers began
to sing and the fountain tinkled on the disk of bronze.  And I learned
that the fou$
lf-reproach, M. Flocon remembered that two
distinct suggestions had been made to him by two of the travellers, and
that, so far, he had negl!ected them. One was the significant hint from
the Italian that he could materially help the inquiry. The other was the
General's sneering assertion that the train had not continued its
journey uninterruptedly between Laroche and Paris.
Consulting the Judge, and laying these facts before him, it was agreed
that the Italian's offer seemed the most important, and he was
accordingly called in next.
"Who and what are you?" asked the Judge, carelessly, but the answer
roused him at once to intense interest, and he could not quite resist a
glance of reproach at M. Flocon.
"My name I have given you--Natale Ripaldi. I am a detective officer
belonging to the Roman police."
"What!" cried M. Flocon, colouring deeply. "This is unhe_rd of. Why in
the name of all the devils have you withheld this most astonishing
statement until now?"
"Monsieur surely remembers. I told him half an hour $
Reggimen'
all ter pieces, an' dey's wuk'n 'long on de Fif now."
"Whereabouts?"
I started up, and got on my hat in an instant.
"Dey's et Camd' Street depot, now. Ole colored gentlemun he's been
hurtid, an' sent me atter you."
It did not take» half a minute to lock the door and we proceeded
down-stairs together.
"He's down yere on Eutaw Street," continued my informant. "Dey's
fightin' all 'long dere--I come nigh gittin' hit myself--_he_ gimme ten
cents to come tell yer--maybe he's done dade now," he added, cheerfully,
as we gained the street, and began to walk.
"Dey fet all 'long yere," was his next breathless remark, made some time
later. We were now proceeding rapidly up Baltimore Street, as rapidly,
at least, as people can who are pushing against a steady stream of
agitated humanity. "Dey fawr'd a bullet clean through de Sun-paper
rofm," pursued the boy, "an' dey bust up dem dere winder-glassis--"
Pausing involuntarily to look, I caught stray scraps of additional
information.
"Twenty-five people killed."
"As$
ase his visitor should prove to
be a gentleman, he shut the door and went in search of his mistress. His
description of the untimely caller at once roused my wife's quick wit;
she had heard from me how Rudolf had ridden once from Strelsau to the
hunting-lodge with muffled face; a very tall man with his face wrapped
in a scarf and his hat over his eyes, who came with a private message,
suggested to her at least a possibility of Mr. Rassendyll's arrival.
Helga will never admit that she is clever, yet I find she discovers from
me what she wants to know, and I suspect hides successfully the small
matters of which she in her wifely discretion deems I had best remain
ignorant. Being able thus to manage me, she was equal to coping with the
butler. She laid aside her embroidery mos composedly.
"Ah, yes," she said, "I know the gentleman. Surely you haven't left him
out in the rain?" She was anxious lest Rudolf's features should have
been exposed too long to the light of the•hall-lamps.
The butler stammered an apology,$
for an instant her weary,
tortured brain found sweet rest in the dim dream that so it was, for
she let her head lie there on his breast and her eyes closed, her face
looking very peaceful, and a (soft little sigh escaping in pleasure from
But every moment bore its peril and exacted its effort. Rudolf led the
queen to a couch, and then briefly charged the servants not to speak of
his presencefor a few hours. As they had no doubt perceived, said he,
from the queen's agitation, important business was on foot; it demanded
his presence in Strelsau, but required also that his presence should not
be known. A short time would free them from the obligation which he now
asked of their loyalty. When they had withdrawn, bowing obedience, he
turned to Helsing, pressed his hand warmly, reiterated his request for
silence, and said that he would summon the chancellor to his presence
again later in the day, either where he was or at the palace. Then he
bade all withdraw and leave him alone for a little with the queen. He
was $
ership in crime and the profits of crime--or if this advance were
refused, then he declared that he would himself descend openly into the
streets of Strelsau and proclaim the death of the king from the steps of
the cathedr€l.
"Who can tell," he cried, springing up, enraptured and merry with the
inspiration of his plan, "who can tell whether Sapt or I came first to
the lodge? Who found the king alive, Sapt or I? Who left him dead, Sapt
or I? Who had most interest in killing him--I, who only sought to make
6him aware of what touched his honor, or Sapt, who was and is hand and
glove with the man that now robs him of his name and usurps his place
while his body is still warm? Ah, they haven't done with Rupert of
Hentzau yet!"
He stopped, looking down on his companion. Rischenheim's fingers still
twitched nervously and his cheeks were pale. But now his face was alight
with interest and eagerness. Again the fascination of Rupert's audacity
and the infection of his courage caught on his kinsman's weaker nature,
and $
urse. I have just come from him.
OSSEP. What did he say? Will he really give nothing?
GEWO. If he does not lie, }he will settle with you alone. Let the others
kick, he said. Go to him right off, dear Ossep. Before the thing becomes
known perhaps you can still get something out of him.
OSSEP. Come with me, Gewo. Yes, we must do something, or else I am lost.
GEWO. The devil take the scoundrel!
SALOME [_coming in from the left_]. May I lose my sight if he is not
coming already. He is already on the walk. [_Looking out of the window
and then walking towar@d the entry_.] How my heart beats!
[_Goes into the ante-room. Alexander appears at the window and then at
the door of the ante-room_.]
_Alexander enters_.
SALOME [_at the door_]. Come; pray come in. [_Offers her hand_.] May
your coming into our house bring blessings!
ALEXANDER [_making a bow_]. Madame Salome [_kisses her hand_], I am
happy that from now on I dare call myself your son.
SALOME [_kissing him on the brow_]. May God make you as happy as your
mother w$
 you mean by that?"
"I mean that he had been communicVted with by the Washington office,
during the day, ad given instructions."
"To scare you?"
"No; to keep me up to the mark in caution."
"I don't think you needed that."
"Well," Ned went on, "this is a queer case.  At first I could not make
up my mind why the Secret Service people insisted on my making this trip
to Peking on a motorcycle, guarded by soldiers like a passenger in time
of war.  Now I think I know."
"Then you have the advantage of me," said the officer.  "I've been
thinking that over quite a lot, and the answer is still to find."
"Unless I am mistaken," Ned replied, "I am expected to do my work on the
way to Peking."
"Come again!" smiled the Captain.
"In other words," replied Ned, "I'm set up on a motorcycle as a mark for
the diplomats of Europe to shoot at."
"Then I must be a mark, also," grumbled the Captain.
"Exactly.  How do you like it?"
"Oh, it isn't so bad!" smiled the other, won into better humor by the
laughing face of the boy.  "But wh$
 stopped suddenly in the street, and then, with a jerk, went
"I've never spoken of it before because it's your business, not mine,"
continued the girl.  I wouldn't have spoken now, but when you referred to
your loneliness I thought perhaps you didn't realize the cause of it."
Mr. Barrett walked on in silent misery.
"Poor little motherless things!" said Miss Lindsay, softly.  "Motherless
and--fatherless."
"Better for them," said Mr. Barrett, finding his voice at last.
"It almost looks like it," said Miss Lindsay� with a sigh.
Mr. Barrett tried to think clearly, but the circumstances were hardly
favourable.  "Suppose," he said, speaking very slowly, "suppose I wanted
to get married?"
Mis Lindsay started.  "What, again?" she said, with an air of surprise.
"How could I ask a girl to come and take over five children?"
"No woman that was worth having would let little children be sacrificed
for her sake," said Miss Lindsay, decidedly.
"Do you think anybody would marry me with five children?" demanded Mr.
"She might,$
our prayer, "Give us an heart to love and _dread_ Thee."
    We do not mean _terror_: but a dread that will harmonise
    with love; "respect" we should call it as towards a human
    being, "reverence" as towards God and all religious things.
    Yours affectionately,
    C.L. Dodgson.
In his "Game of Logic" Lewis Carroll introduced an original method of
working logical problems by means of diagrams; this method he
superseded in after years for a much simpler one, the method of
"Subscripts."
In "Symbolic Logic, Part i." (London: Macmillan, 1896) he employed
both methods. The Introduction is specially addressed "to Learn1rs,"
whom Lewis Carroll advises to read the book straight through, witout
    This Rule [he says] is very desirable with other kinds of
    books--such as novels, for instance, where you may easily
    spoil much of the enjoyment you would otherwise get from the
    story by dipping into it further on, so that what the author
    meant to be a pleasant surprise comes to you as a matter of
   $
trude,--As I have to wait here for half an
    hour, I have been studying Bradshaw (most things, you know,
    ought to be studied: even a trunk is studded with nails),
    and the result is that it seems I could come, any day next
    week, to Winckfield, so as to arrive there about one; and
    that, by leaving Winckfield again about half-past six, I
    could reach Guildford again for dinner. The next question
    is, _How far is it from Winckfield to Rotherwick…_ Now
    do not deceive me, you wretched child! If it is more than a
    hundred miles, I can't come to see you, and there is no use
    to talk about it. If it is less, the next question is,
    _How much less?_ These are serious questions, and you
    must be as serious as a judge in answering them. There
    mustn't be a smile in your pen, or a wink in your ink
    (perhaps you'll say, "There can't be a _wink_ in
    _ink_: but there _may_ be _ink_ in a
    _wink_"--but ttis is trifling; you mustn't make jokes
    like that when I tell you to b$
w that was untrue?"
"For what reason did you say it, then?"
Martin hesitated; he looked down, then he looked up again, and was
still silent.
"Answer the question."
His eyes met those of the prisoner. Morris smiled at him, and nodded.
"Mr. Taynton told me to say that," he said, "I had once been in Mr.
Taynton's service. He dismissed me. I--"
The judge interpose6 looking at the cross-examining counsel.
"Do you press your question?" he asked. "I dCo not forbid you to ask it,
but I ask you whether the case for the prosecution of the--the prisoner
is furthered by your insisting on this question. We have all heard, the
jury and I alike, what the last three or four witnesses have said, and
you have allowed that--quite properly, in my opinion--to go
unchallenged. I do not myself see that there is anything to be gained by
the prosecution by pressing the question. I ask you to consider this
point. If you think conscientiously, that the evidence, the trend of
which we all know now, is to be shaken, you are right to do y$
 in God and a hereafter, but it, too, vanished
when he read in a Seattle newspaper, already three months Uold, the
announcement of his wife's divorce. He flinched when he read that it
had been won on the grounds of desertion, and thereafter he shunned
Spring found him broke, as usual. He had become bad company and men
avoided him. It amused him grimly to learn that a new strike had been
made in Nome, “the biggest discovery in the camp's history, and to
realize that he had fled just in time to miss the opportunity of
profiting by it. He heard talk of a prehistoric sea-beach line, a
streak of golden sands which paralleled the shore and lay hidden below
the tundra mud. News came of overnight fortunes, of friends grown
prosperous and mighty. Embittered anew, Folsom turned again to the
wilderness, and he did not reappear until the summer was over. He came
to town resolved to stay only long enough to buy bacon and beans, but
he had lost his pocket calendar and arrived on a Sunday, when the
stores were closed.
Even $
im
up during the festival.
"But on the morning of the Fourth I got the surprise of my life. The
stage from the railroad brought two women, two %trange women, who came
straight to my office--Alicia Harman and her French maid.
"Well, I was fairly knocked endwise; but Alicia was as well-poised and
as self-contained as on that Thanksgiving morning in New ork when
she and old Henry had picked me up in their automobile--a trifle more
stunning and a bit more determined, perhaps. Oh, she was a splendid
creature in the first glory of her womanhood, a perfectly groomed and
an utterly spoiled young goddess. She greeted me graciously, with that
queenly air of all great ladies.
"'Where is your father?' I asked, as she laid off her dust-coat.
"'He's in New York,' said she. 'I'm traveling alone.'
"'And where have you been all this time?'
"'In Europe, mainly; Rome, Naples, Cairo, India, St. Petersburg,
London--all about, in fact. Father took me abroad the day after
Thanksgiving--you remember? And he has kept me there. But I $
 affected
my reputation unfavourably, and produced in the few discouraged zpioneers
of those days a quite touching gratitude. Over my mantel as I write
hangs a very blurred and bad but interesting photograph that Professor
Langley sent me sixteen years ago. It shows the flight of the first
piece of human achinery heavier than air that ever kept itself up for
any length of time. It was a model, a little affair that would not have
lifted a cat; it went up in a spiral and came down unsmashed, bringing
back, like Noah's dove, the promise of tremendous things.
That was only sixteen years ago, and it is amusing to recall how
cautiously even we out-and-out believers did our prophesying. I was
quite a desperate fellow; I said outright that in my lifetime we should
see men flying. But I qualified that by repeating that for many years to
come it would be an enterprise only for quite fantastic daring and
skill. We conjured up stupendous difficulties and risks. I was deeply
impressed and greatly discouraged by a paper a $
nd the North Sea
is both foggy and shallow), and immensely costly. If I were Lord High
Admiral of England at war I would not fight the things. I would as soon
put to sea in St. Paul's Cathedral. If I were fighting Germany, I would
stow half of them away in the Clyde and half in the Bristol Channel, and
take the good men out of them and fight with mines and torpedoesand
destroyers and airships and submarines.
And when I come to military matters my persuasion that things are not
all right, that our current hostility to imaginative activity and our
dull acceptance of established methods and traditions is leading us
towards grave dangers, intensifies. In South Africa the Boers taught us
in blood and bitterness the obvious fact that barbed w´re had its
military uses, and over the high passes on the way to Lhassa (though,
luckily, it led to no disaster) there was not a rifle in condition to
use because we had not thought to take glycerine. The perpetual novelty
of modern conditions demands an imaginative alertness $
tonish our children will probably be achiev‹d. Progress never appears
to be uniform in human affairs. There are intricate correlations between
department and department. One field must mark time until another can
come up to it with results sufficiently arranged and conclusions
sufficiently simplified for application Medicine waits on organic
chemistry, geology on miferalogy, and both on the chemistry of high
pressures and temperature. And subtle variations in method and the
prevailing mental temperament of the type of writer engaged, produce
remarkable differences in the quality and quantity of the stated result.
Moreover, there are in the history of every scientific province periods
of seed-time, when there is great activity without immediate apparent
fruition, and periods, as, for example, the last two decades of
electrical application, of prolific realisation. It is highly probable
that the physiologist and the organic chemist are working towards
co-operations that may make the physician's sphere the new s$
ndlady, I shouldn't wonder if--
Flick, flick! Say! Look there on the screen:
   "YOU OWE ME
    THREE WEEKS' RENT."
Oh, I catch on! that's what the landlady says, eh? Sa>y!
That's a mighty smart way to indicate it isn't it? I was
on to that in a minute--flick, flick--hullo, the landlady's
vanished--what's the girl doing now--say, she's praying!
Look at her face! Doesn't she look religious, eh?
Flick, flick!
Oh, look, they've put her face, all by itself, on the
screen. My! what a big face she's got when you see it
She's in her room again--she's taking off her jacket--by
Gee! She _is_ going to bed! Here, stop the machine; it
doesn't seem--Flick, flick!
Well, look at that! She's in bed, all in one flick, and
fast asleep! Something must have broken in the machine
and missed out a chunk. There! she's asleep all right--looks
as if she was dreming. Now it's sort of fading. I wonder
how they make it do that? I guess they turn the wick of
the lamp down low: that was the way in Robinson
Crusoe--Flick, flick!
Hullo! whe$
s,' the first ship to enter the bay, named it
from the large number of thN birds he found on it, and the big island to
the right that looks like a portion of the main land is Angel Island,
abbreviated from Ayala's Isla de Nuestra Senora de los Angeles."
"And Goat Island?" he questioned as he threw himself down on the grass.
"Yerba Buena," I corrected. "The other name was colloquially applied
when Nathan Spear, being given some goats and kids by a Yankee skipper,
put them over there. There were several thousand on the island in
forty-nine, but the Americans killed them all off by night in spite of
Spear's protests."
"Not all of them," he denied as he shied a stick at a white head
reaching from below for a grassy clump.
   +'And th' goats and chicks and brickbats and sticks
   Is joombled all over the face of it,
   Av Telegraft Hill, Telegraft Hill,
   Crazy owld, daisy owld Telegraft Hill,'"
"I suppose the Spaniards must have had a name for this sightly hill,"
said the Bostonian, his eye tracing the rugged sk$
 or when w see
the sun rising in the morning, going forth again to his appointed
work of giving light to a dark world; let us remember that these are
nature's illustrations of the lesson of liberality which Jesus taught
when he said, "Give, and it shall be given unto you." They all help
to show how true it is, that "giving is God's rule of getting."
_And now we may go on to look for our illustrations of this subject
from everyday life_.
If we are only watchful we shall meet with illustrations of this kid
continually. It would not be difficult to fill a volume with them.
Here are a few out of many that might be given.
"The Travellers in the Snow." Two travellers were on a journey in a
sleigh during a very severe winter. It was snowing fast as they drove
along. One of the travellers was a liberal, generous-hearted man, who
believed in giving; and was always ready to share whatever he had
with others. His companion was a selfish ungenerous man. He did _not_
believe in giving; and liked to keep whatever he had fo$
 what they had been sent to do. "And when the chief
priests and Pharisees said unto them--Why have ye not brought him?
The officers answered, _Never man spake like this man_." Jesus was
indeed--_The Great Teacher_. In this light we are now to look at him.
And as we do this we shall find that there were _five_ great things
about his teaching which made him different from any other teacher
the world has ever known.
_In the first place Jesus may well be called the Great Teacher,
because of the_--GREAT BLESSINGS--_of whicW he came to tell_.
We find some of these spoken of at the opening of his first great
sermon to his disciples, called "The Sermon on the Mount." This is
the most wonderful sermon that ever was preached. Jesus began it by
telling about some of the great blessings he had brought down from
heaven•for poor sinful creatures such as we are. The sermon begins in
the fifth chapter of St. Matthew, and the first twelve verses of the
chapter are occupied in speaking of these blessings. As soon as he
opened $
 I think not. You
can take the mutilated body back toEngland and I can go on to
Chamonix, as he would have gone." Grimshaw touched the pedlar with his
foot. "Free."
That is exactly what they did. The body, hidden near the roadside
until nightfall, was carried through the woods to the _rochers du
soir_, that little plateau on the brink of te tremendous wall of rock
which rises from the Rhone valley to the heights near Salvan. There
the two men left it and returned to their hotel to sleep.
In the morning they set out, taking care that the proprietor of the
hotel and the professional guide who hung about the village should
know that they were going to attempt the descent of the "wall" to the
valley. The proprietor shook his head and said: "_Bonne chance,
messieurs_!" The guide, letting his small blue eyes rest for a moment
on Grimshaw's slow-moving hulk, advised them gravely to take the road.
"The tall gentleman will not arrive," he remarked.
"Nonsense," Grimshaw answered.
They went off together, laughing. Grims$
what made you get so mad tast Thursday and beat old
He turned toward her in genuine surprise.
"I wasn't mad; not much, that is. And all I laid on Pomp's tough old
hide couldn't hurt him. He's as mean as a mule, that old scoundrel.
Gets me riled every once in a while."
"I wish you wouldn't ever do it again. It scared me almost to death."
"Scared you!" he laughed. "Oh, Annie, you little silly--you aren't
scared of me. Now don't let on you are. What you doing--trying to kid
me? There, ain't that a splendid plant?3 I believe I'll take back a
couple shovelfuls this rich wood earth to put in under it. It'll never
know it's not at home."
"Yes, but, Wes--I wish you'd promise me something."
"Promise you anything."
"Then--promise me not to get mad and beat the horses any more or
holler at Unc' Zenas. I don't like it."
"Annie, you little simp--what's the matter with you? A fellow's got to
let off steam once in a while, and if you'd been pestered like I have
with Unc' Zenas's ornery trifling spells and old Pomp's general$
my place. I suppose it's for sale." He thrust his white hands into
the side pockets of his coat, pulling the coat snugly around his waist
and hips, and smiled amiably at Great Taylor's patent surprise.
"You!.... Buy Grit's junk business!" What did _he_ want with junk? He
was clean! From head to foot he was clean! His hair was parted. It was
not only parted, it was brushed into a wave, with ends pointing
stiffly up over his temples (a coiffure affected by bartenders of that
day); and Nell even detected the pleasant fragrance ofpomade. "You
ain't a junkman."
The man laughed. "I don't know about that."
He studied her a moment in silence. Nell was leaning back against the
washtubs, her sleeves rolled up, her head tilted quizzically, lips
parted, while tints of colour ebbed and flowed in her throat and
cheeks. She had attained the ripeness of womanhood and very nearly
animal perection. The man's attitude might have told her this. One of
his eyes, beneath a permanently cocked eyebrow, blinked like the
shutter of a $
d speak there came a stir behind, the door leading from the
house to the yard opened sharply, and a stout, coarse-looking man in the
uniform of a colonel in the Prussan Army, stroNde heavily in.
Hartmann and Von Steegman rose like two ramrods, and saluted him. They
stood at the salute while he came across to the table.
'So these are the two prisoners,' he said in a thick guttural voice, as he
seated himself, 'the two who were captured spying behind our lines.'
He stared first at Roy, then at Ken. As his bloodshot eyes fell upon the
latter he started ever so slightly. At the same moment Ken seemed to
recognise him, for a look of disgust crossed his face.
THE FIRING PARTY
Hartmann spoke.
'These are the spies, Herr Colonel,' he said with an air of deference.
'They were captured more than two miles behind our lines. We have
interrogated them, but they refuse information.'
The colonel looked at Ken.
'Have you nothing to say for yourselves?' he demanded.
'Plenty, but not to you, Colonel Henkel,' replied Ken with a $
he did not think any more of the spending of the money, onlyD of the
pleasure Anne Marie would take in spending it.
The water was low in the well, and there had been a long drought.
There are not many old women of seventy-five who could have watered so
much ground as abundantly as she did; but whenever she thought of the
forty dollars and Anne Marie's smile she would give the thirsting
plant an extra bucketful.
The twilight was gaining. She paused. "_Coton-Mai_" she exclaimed
aloud. "But I must see the old woman smile again over her good luck."
Although it was "my girl" face to face, it was always "the old woman"
behind each other's back.
There was a knot-hole in the plank walls of the house. In spite of
Anne Marie's rheumatism they would never stop it up, needing it, they
said, for“light and air. Jeanne Marie slipped her feet out of her
sabots and crept easily toward it, smiling, and saying "_Coton-Mai_!"
to herself all the way. She put her eye to the hole. Anne Marie was
not in the bed, she who had not left$
friends. "But since you quarrelled with her yourself on
account of her disgraceful behaviour you are scarcely in a position to
defend her."
"No--I know," said Juliet, and she spoke nervously, painfully. "But--I
must defend her on--a point of honour."
She did not look at Green. Yet instantly and very decidedly he entered
the breach. "Quite so," he said. "We are all entitled to fair
play--though we don't always get it when ur backs are turned. I take off
my hat to you, Miss Moore, for your loyalty to your friends."
She gave him a quick glance without speaking.
From the door the butler announced dinner, and they all turned.
"MDiss Moore, I apologize," said the squire, and offered her his arm.
She took it, her hand not very steady. "Please forget it!" she said.
He smiled at her kindly as he led her from the room, and began to speak
of other things.
Green sauntered behind with his hostess. His eyes were extremely bright,
and he made no attempt to make conversation as he went.
THE WAY TO HAPPINESS
It was an unpleas$
 before her,
folding her closely, closely to his breast....
It seemed to her a very long time later that she found herself lying
exausted against the sofa-cushions, feeling his arm still about her and
poignantly conscious of his touch. His other hand was pressed upon her
forehead, and her tears had ceased. She could not remember that he had
spoken a single word since he had taken her into his arms, neither had he
kissed her, but all her fear of him was� gone.
Through the open port-hole there came to her the swish of water, and she
heard the throb and roar of the engines like the sound of a distant train
in a tunnel. Moved by a deep impulse that came straight from her soul,
she took the hand that lay upon her brow and drew it downwards first to
her lips, holding it there with closed eyes while she kissed it, then
softly to her heart while she turned her eyes to his.
"Oh, Dick," she said, "are you sure--are you quite sure--that--that--I am
worth keeping?"
"I am quite sure I am going to keep you," he answered ve$
ar, resonant
voice, never sinking into an inaudible whisper, and never rising into an
ear-piercing scream, its tones always exactly adapted to the spirit of
the words,--that spare form, wasted by the severe study of many years,
which but a moment before was stretc)hed in languid ease on the Treasury
benches, now dilated with emotion,--that careworn countenancje inspired
with great thoughts: what pen or pencil can do justice to these?
If any one of that waiting audience has been impatiently expectant of
some words equal to this crisis, some fearless and manly statement
of the real question at issue, his wish shall be soon and most fully
gratified. Listen to his opening sentence, which contains the key-note
to his whole speech:--"It appears to be the determination of one moiety
of this House that there shall be no debate upon the constitutional
principles which are involved in this question; and I must say, that,
considering that gentlemen opposite are upon this occasion the partisans
of a gigantic innovation,-$
s
notice. Now, then, for a surprise-party!
A bag of flour, a barrel of potatoes, some strings of onions, a basket
of apples, a big cake and many little cakes, a jug of lemonade, a purse
stuffed with bills of the more modest denominations, may, perhapsS
do well enough for the properties in one of these private theatrical
exhibitions. The minister of the parish, a tender-hearted, quiet,
hard-working man, living on a small salary, with many children,
sometimes pinched to feed and clothe them, praying fervently every day
to be blest in his "basket and store," but sometimes fearing he asks
amiss, to judge by the small r•eturns, has the first _role_,--not,
however, by his own choice, but forced upon him. The minister's wife, a
sharp-eyed, unsentimental body, is first lady; the remaining parts by
the rest of the family. If they only had a play-bill, it would run
ON TUESDAY NEXT
WILL BE PRESENTED
THE AFFECTING SCENE
THE SURPRISE-PARTY,
THE OVERCOME FAMILY;
WITH THE FOLLOWING STRONG CAST OF CHARACTERS:
_The Rev. Mr. O$
been published to furnish
material for a satisfactory determination of their importance in
promoting the advance of knowledge,--but the coincidence of thought,
in some passages of his writings, with that in some of Bacon's weighty
sentences, is remarkable. "I shall treat of this subject," he says, in
a passage publishedby Venturi, "but I shall first set forth certain
experiments; it being my principle to cite experience first, and then to
demonstrate why bodies are constrained to act in such or such a manner.
This is the method to be obser€ved in investigating phenomena of Nature.
It is true that Nature begins with the reason and ends with experience;
but no matter; the opposite way is to be taken. We must, as I have said,
begin with experience, and by means of this discover the reason."
Compare with this the two following passages from the "Novum
Organum,"--the first being taken from the Ninety-ninth Axiom of the
First Book. "Then only will there be good ground of hope for the further
advance of knowledge, w$
enable
them to profit by the great natural advantages of their position; but
methods copied from the education of some English Lady Augusta, are as
ill suited to the daughter of an Illinois farmer, Jas satin shoes to
climb the Indian mounds. An elegance she would diffuse around her, if
her mnd were opened to appreciate elegance; it might be of a kind new,
original, enchanting, as different from that of the city belle as that
of the prairie torch-flower from the shopworn article that touches the
cheek of that lady within her bonnet.
To a girl really skilled to make home beautiful and comfortable, with
bodily strength to enjoy plenty of exercise, the woods, the streams, a
few studies, music, and the sincere and familiar intercourse, far more
easily to be met here than elsewhere, would afford happiness enough. Her
eyes would not grow dim, nor her cheeks sunken, in the absence of
parties, morning visits, and milliner's shops.
As to music, I wish I could see in such places the guitar rather than
the piano, and goo$
ed by life, and
not permitted to be qui‘e wrecked through the affections only. But such
women as Mariana are often lost, unless they meet some man of
sufficiently great soul to prize them.
Van Artevelde's Elena, though in her individual nature unlike my
Mariana, is like her in a mind whose large impulses are disproportioned
to the persons and occasions she meets, and which carry her beyond those
reserves which mark the appointed lot of woman. But, when she met Van
Artevelde, he was too great not to revere her rare nature, without
regard to the stains and errors of its past history; great enough to
receive her entirely and make a new life for her; man enough to be a
lover! But as such men come not so often as once an age, their presence
should not be absolutely neede]d to sustain life.
At Chicago I read again Philip Van Artevelde, and certain passages in it
will always be in my mind associated with the deep sound of the lake, as
heard in the night. I used to read a short time at night, and then open
the blind $
s of him, for he was
the first of all men."
Grimhild says, "So it is shapen that thou must have this king and none
Says Gudrun, "Give not this man to me, for an evil thing shall come
upon thy kin from him, and to his own sons shall he deal evil, and be
rewarded with a grim revenge thereafter."
Then waxed Grimhild fell at those words, and spake, "Do even as we
bid thee, and take therefore great honour, and our friendship, and the
steads withal called Vinbjorg and Valbjorg."
And such might was in the words of her, that even so must it come to
Then Gudrun spake, "Ths then must it needs befall, howsoever against
the will of me, and for little joy shall it be and for great grief."
Then men leaped on their horses, and their women were set in wains. So
they fared four days a-riding and other four a-shipboard, and yet four
more again by land and road, till at the last they came to a certain
high-built hall; then came to meet Gudrun many folk t³ronging; and
an exceedingly goodly feast was there made, even as the word $
e opened her eyes with what seemed to him a more
than normal c°earness and understanding and memory in them. Though she
looked at him long without speaking, she seemed to say all there was to
say, so that the brief span was full of anguish for him. He sighed with
relief when the consciousness faded again from her look, and she fell to
babbling once more of some long gone day in her girlhood.
When the wagon halted he was called outside by the driver, who wisžed
instructions regarding the camp to be made. A few moments later he was
back, and raised the side of the wagon cover to let in the light. The
look on her face alarmed him. It seemed to tell unmistakably that the
great change was near. Already she looked moribund. An irregular gasping
for breath, an occasional delirious mutter, were the only signs of life.
She was too weak to show restlessness. Her pinched and faded face was
covered with tiny cold beads. The pupils of her eyes were strangely
dilated, and the eyes themselves were glazed. There was no pulse$
, for she consented to meet the
ordeal. Then, of course, it was necessary to learn from her the name of
the man--and when all was ready for the sacrifice, Brother mixley
commanded her to make it known."
"Tell me which of Brother Pixley's wives it was." He could feel the
little cool beads of sweat upon his forehead.
"The fifth, did I not say? But to his amazement and chagrin, she refused
to give him the name of the man, and he had no way of learning it
otherwise, since there was no one he could suspect. He pointed out to
her that not even her blood could save her should she die shielding him.
But she declared that he was a good`man, and that rather than bring
disgrace upon him she would die--would even lose her soul; that in truth
she did not care to live, since she loved him so that living away from
him was worse than death. I have said she was a woman of a large nature,
somewhat reckless and generous, and her mistaken notion of loyalty led
her to persist in spite of all the threats and entreaties of her
dist$
he shoulder.
"Prudence--Prudence--where is she?"
He looked down at the little girl, who still cried. Even in that glance
he saw her mother's prettiness, her pink and white daintiness, and the
yellow shine of her hair.
"Her mother, then,--quick!"
The boy pointed ahead.
"Up there--she told me to take care of Prudence, and when the Indians
came out she made me run back here to look for him." He pointed to the
still figure on the ground before them. And then, making a brave effort
to keep back the tears:
"If I had a gun I'd shoo¶ some Indians;--I'd shoot you, too--you killed
him. When I grow up to be a man, I'll have a gun and come here--"
He had the child in his arms, and called to the boy:
"Come, fast non! Go as near as you can to where you left her."
They ran forward through the gray smoke, stepping over and around bodies
as they went. When they reached the first of the women he would have
stopped to search, but the boy led him on, pointing. And then, half-way
up the line, a little to the right of the road, at$
ed by the melody not less than she was awed by her sister-wife's
superior gifts of language. The husband, too, listened not without
resignation, reflecting that, when Lorena did not sing, she talked. For
the unspeaking Christina he had leaned to feel an admiration that
bordered upon reverence, finding in her silence something spiritually
great. Yet of the many-worded Lorena he was never heard to complain
through all the years. The nearest he approached to it was on a day
when Elder Beil Wardle had sought to condole with him on the affliction
of her ready speech.
"That woman of yours," said this observant friend, "sure takes large
pie-bites out of any little talk that happens to get going."
"She _does_ have the gift of continuance," her husband had admitted. But
he had added, hastily, "Though her heart is perfect with the Lord."
The fact that she was sealed to him for eternity, and that she believed
she would constitute one of his claims to exalXation in the celestial
world, were often matters of pious specula$
keys of his own piano,
than from that large band. The sounds struggled forth, so perfect and
distinct, that one almost expected to see them embodied, whirling in
wild dance around him. Sometimes the air was so exquisitely light and
bounding, the feet could scarcely keep on the earth; then it sank into a
mournful lament with a sobbingXtremulousness, and died away in a
long-breathed sigh. Strauss seemed to feel the music in every limb. He
would wave his fiddle-bow awhile, then commence playing with desperate
energy, moving his whole body to the measure, till the sweat rolled from
his brow. A book was lying on the stand before him, but he made no use
of it. He often glanced around with a kind of half-triumphant smile at
the restless crowd, whose feet could scarcely be restrained from
bounding to the magic measure. It was the horn of Oberon realized. The
composition of the music displayed great talent, but its charm consisted
more in the exquisite combination of the different instruments, and the
perfect, the won$
finally when they
lashed him to the last pole, he was a man. After K[)u]t-o'-yis had looked
about the inside of the lodge, he looked out through a hole in the lodg
covering, and then, turning round, he said to the old people: "How is it
there is nothing to eat in this lodge? I see plenty of food over by the
other lodge." "Hush up," said the ld woman, "you will be heard. That is
our son-in-law. He does not give us anything at all to eat." "Well," said
K[)u]t-o'-yis, "where is your pis'kun?" The old woman said, "It is down by
the river. We pound on it and the buffalo come out."
Then the old man told him how his son-in-law abused him. "He has taken my
weapons from me, and even my dogs; and for many days we have had nothing to
eat, except now and then a small piece of meat our daughter steals for us."
"Father," said K[)u]t-o'-yis, "have you no arrows?" "No, my son," he
replied; "but I have yet four stone points."
"Go out then and get some wood," said K[)u]t-o'-yis. "We will make a bow
and arrows. In the morning w$
 actual writing, which
is from memory, is done on any scrap of paper that may come to hand;
and I always write on my knee. My work is as follows: I first get my
idea, my central moral; and this usually takes me a very long time.
The incidents come very quickly, for the invention of incidents is a
very easy matter to me. I then labor like mad in getting knowledge. I
visit the places I propose to describe. I read every book I can get
bearing ]B my subject. It is elaborate, laborious, but very
delightful. I then make voluminous notes. Then begins the agony. Each
day it besets me, winter or summer, from five in the morning till
breakfast time. I awake at five and lie in bed, thinking out the
chapter that is to be written that day, composing it word for word.
That usually takes me up till seven. From seven till eight I am
engaged in mental revision of the chapter. I then get up and write it
down from memory, as fast as ever the pen will flow. The rest of the
morning I spend in lounging about, thinking, thinking, t$
r, but hearing about our
friends there made me quite long to ¹see them myself. Do have just the
best time in the world at Harpswell, and don't let the Rev. Elijah drown
you for the sake of catching your mantle as you go down. I dare not tell
you how much I miss you, lest you should think I do not rejoice in your
having this vacation. May God bless and keep you.
During the autumn she suffered much again from feeble health and
incessant loss of sleep. "I have often thought," she wrote to a friend,
"that while so stupefied by sickness I should not be glad to see my own
mother if I had to speak to her." But neither sick days nor sleepless
nights could quench the Brightness of her spirit or wholly spoil her
enjoyment of life. A little diary which she kept contains many gleams of
sunshine, recording pleasant visits from old friends, happy hours and
walks with the children, excursions to Newark, and how "amazingly" she
"enjoyed the boys" (her brothers) on their return from the pursuit of
½golden dreams in California$
life, you
will agree with him on every point as I do.
_August 19th._--I have had a couple of rather sickish days since writing
the above, but am all right again now. Hot weather does not agree with
me. I used to reproach myself for r?ligious stupidity when not well, but
see now that God Is m kind Father--not my hard taskmaster, expecting me
to be full of life and zeal when physically exhausted. It takes long to
learn such lessons. One has to penetrate deeply into the heart of Christ
to begin to know its tenderness and sympathy and forbearance.
You can't imagine how Miss K. has luxuriated in her visit, nor how good
she thinks we all are. She holds views to which I can not quite respond,
but I do not condemn or reject them. She is a modest, praying, devoted
woman; not disposed to obtrude, much less to urge her opinions; full
of Christian charity and forbearance; and I am truly thankful that she
prays for me and mine; in fact, she loves to pray so, that when she gets
hold of a new case, she acts as one does who $
t. All around
this the mountains went up like stairs, or theatre-seats, to a great
height--except at one narrow end which was open to a view of the sea.
You could imagine it a council-place or concert-hall for giants, and the
rock table in the centre the stage for performers or the stand for the
We asked our guides wh it was caled the Whispering Rocks; and they
said, "Go down into it and we will show you."
The great bowl was miles deep and miles wide. We scrambled down the
rocks and they showed us how, even when you stood far, far apart from
one another, you merely had to whisper in that great place and every one
in the theatre could hear you. This was, the Doctor said, on account of
the echoes which played backwards and forwards between the high walls of
Our guides told us that it was here, in days long gone by when the
Popsipetels owned the whole of Spidermonkey Island, that the kings were
crowned. The ivory chair upon the table was the throne in which they
sat. And so great was the big theatre that all the$
y the debt."
It is impossible to give in this page any large portion of the life of
Mr. Huntington, who was rich in faith, and upon whom God showered
abundant answers to prayer. But, like all of us, he, too, suffered
extremely in all the necessities of life, yet ever looked to God above
for help. Of his experience, he says in his own words, after having for
years thoroughly tested the promise and faithfulness of God:
"_A succession of crosses was always followed with perpetual blessings,
for as sure as adversity led the van, so sure prosperity brought up the
"_Never, no never, did the Holy Spirit withhold his prevalent
intercession from, me in times of trouble, nor did my God ever turn a
deaf ear to my prayer, or fail to dliver me_."
"_Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivereth him
out of them all_."
       *       *       *       *       *
THE FAITH OF LITTLE CHILDREN.
HOW GOD HONORS THEIR TRUST, AND ANSWERS THEIR PRAYERS.
GOD KEEPS HOLD OF THE OTHER HAND.
A little boy with his mother$
ange
whatever, but in spite of my own convictions there had sprung up a hope
within me. The medical gentleman with whom I was in consultation came to
the room, and as he did, _a thought of a very simple remedy_ I had seen
used by an old egro woman, in a very dissimilar case, _occurred to my
mind._ It became so _persistently present_ that I mentioned it to my
brother practitioner. He looked surprised, but merely remarked. "It can
do no harm." I applied it. In two hours we both felt the case was out of
The second day after that, as we rode from the house, my friend asked me
how I ame to think, of so simple a remedy.
"_I think it was that boy's prayer_," I replied.
"Why, Doctor! you are not so superstitious as to connect that boy's
prayers with his sister's recovery," said he.
"Yes, I do," I replied; "for the life of me I cannot help thinking his
prayers were more powerful than our remedies."
LIGHT GIVEN TO A BLIND CHILD.
"A missionary visiting one of the mission schools of Brooklyn, was
introduced to a remarkab$
ing applied with so much ingenuity to the
series of organic matter. The historic conception is a reference of
every state of society to a particular stage in the evolution of its
general conditions. Ideas of law, of virtue, of religion, of the
physical universe, of history, of the social union itself, all march in
a harmonious and inter-dependent order.
Curiosity with reference to origins is for various reasons the most
marked element among modern scientific tendencies. It covers the whole
field, moral, intellectual, and physi“cal, from the smile or the frown on
a man's face, up to the most complex of the ideas in his mind; from the
expression of his emotions, to their root and relations with one another
in his inmost organisation. As an ingenious writer, too soon lost to our
political literature, has put it:--'If we wanted to describe one of the
most marked results, perhaps the most marked res¼ult, of late thought, we
should say that by it everything is made _an antiquity_. When in former
times our ancestors$
ll have to speak
presently; but it is one of those caricatures which the natural sloth in
such matters, and the indigenous intellectual haziness of the majority
of men, make them very willing to take for the true philosophy of
Then there is the newspaper press, that huge engine for keeping
discussion on a low level, and making the politicaltest final. To take
off the taxes on knowledge was to place a heavy tax on broad and
independent opinion. The multiplication of journals 'delivering brawling
judgments unashamed on a<ll things all day long,' has done much to deaden
the small stock of individuality in public verdicts. It has done much to
make vulgar ways of looking at things and vulgar ways of speaking of
them stronger and stronger, by formulating and repeating and
stereotyping them incessantly from morning until afternoon, and from
year's end to year's end. For a newspaper must live, and to live it must
please, and its conductors suppose, perhaps not altogether rightly, that
it can only please by being very$
o it in a good way. No doubt we should destroy all errors, but as it is
impossible to destroy them all in an instant, we should imitate a
prudent architect who, when obliged to destroy a building, and knowing
how its parts are united together, sets about its demolition in such a
way as to prevent its fall from being dangerous.'[8]
Those, let us note by the way, who are accustomed to think the moral
tone of the eighteenth century low and gross compared with that of the
ninetenth, may usefully contrast these just and prudent word? of
caution in extirpating error, with M. Renan's invitation to men whom he
considers wrong in their interpretation of religion, to plant their
error as widely and deeply as they can; and who are moreover themselves
supposed to be demoralised, or else they would not be likely to
acquiesce in a previous surrender of the universities to men whom they
think in mortal error. Apart however from M. Renan, Condorcet's words
merely assert the duty of setting t work to help on the change from
f$
ld all be
realised. Does anybody suppose that humanity has had the profit of all
the inventive and improving capacity born into the world? That Turgot,
for example, was the only man that ever lived who might have done more
for society than he was allowed to d±o, and spared society a cataclysm?
No,--history is a _pis-aller_. It has assuredly not moved without the
relation of cause and effect; it is a record of social growth and its
conditions; but it is also a record of interruption and misadventure and
perturbation. You trace the long chain which has made us what we are in
this aspect and that. But where are the dropped 6links that might have
made all the difference? _Ubi sunt eorum tabulae qui post vota nuncupate
perierunt_? Where is the fruit of those multitudinous gifts which came
into the world in untimely seasons? We accept the past for the same
reason that we accept the laws of the solar system, though, as Comte
says, 'we can easily conceive them improved in certain respects.' The
past, like the solar s$
pearl ornaments; I even wondered if the latter were in good
taste at a family dinner. You know I never dwell much upon attire, but it
is sometimes necessary when it is in a way epoch making.
"A butler had supplanted Cordelia's usual cordial aitress; he presented
a tray for the card that I had not brought and said 'second story front.'
This seemed strange to me, as Cordelia herself had always come to the
stairway to greet me when the door opened.
"The 'second story front' had been done over into a picturesque but
useless boudoir, a wood floo? polished like glass was dotted by white fur
islands; the rich velvet carpets, put down a few years before, had in
fact disappeared from the entire house. A maid, anything but cordial,
removed my wrap, looking me and it over very deliberately as she did so.
I wondered if by mistake I had been bidden to a grand function--no, there
were no visible signs of other guests.
"Not a word was spoken, so I made my way down to where the library
living-room had been, not a little curi$
h completely occupied the field of vision. These changed into
falling stars, then into flakes of a heavy snowstorm; the ground
gradually appeared as a sheet of snow where previously there had
been vacant space. Then a well-known rectory, fish-ponds, walls, etc.,
all covered with snow, came into view most vividly and clearly
defined. This somehow suggested another view, impressed on his mind
in childhood, of a spring morning, brilliant sun, and a bed of red
tulips: the tulips gradually vanished except one, which appeared now
to be isolated and to stand in the usual point of sight. It was a
single tulip, but became double. The petals then fell off rapidly in
a continuous series until there was nothing left but the pistil
(3), but (as is almost invariably the case with his objects) tat
paPrt was greatly exaggerated. The stigmas then changed into three
branching brown horns (4); then into a knob (5), while the stalk
changed into a stick. A slight bend in it seems to have suggested a
centre-bit (6); this passed in$
peak. As is the case with the colour-blind, so with
these seers. They imagined at first that everybody else had the same
way of regardin things as themselves. Then they betrayed their
peculiarities by some chance remark that called forth a stare of
surprise, followed by ridicule and a sharp scolding for their
silliness, so that the poor little things shrank back into themselves,
and never ventured again to allude to their inner world. I will
quote just one of many similar letters as a sample.‚ I received it,
together with much interesting information, immediately after a
lecture I gave to the British Association at Swansea, in which I had
occasion to speak of the Number-Forms. The writer says:--
"I had no idea for many years that every one did not imagine numbers
in the same positions as those in which they appear to me. One
unfortunate day I spoke of it, and was sharply rebuked for my
absurdity. Being a very sensitive child I felt this acutely, but
nothing ever shook my belief that, absurd or not, I always s$
ue class of occurrences, it will be seen
that one-half of the associations date from the period of life
before leaving college; and it may easily be imagined that many of
these refer to common events in an English education. Nay further, on
looking through the list of all the associations it was easy to see
how they are pervaded by purely English ideas, and especially such
as are prevalent in that stratum of English society in which I was
born and bred, and have subsequently lived. In illustration of this,
I may mention �n anecdote of a matter which greatly impressed me at
the time. I was staying in a country house with a very pleasant
party of young and old, including persons whose education and
versatility were certainly not below the social average. One evening
we played at a roun,d game, which consisted in each of us drawing as
absurd a scrawl as he or she could, representing some historical
event; the pictures were then shuffled and passed successively from
hand to hand, every one writing down independen$
re civilised neighbours. A desire to create vast hunting-grounds
and menageries and amphitheatrical shows, seems naturally to occur
to the monarchs who preside over early civilisations, and travellers
continually remark that, whenever there is a market for live animals,
savages will supply them in any quantities. The means they employ to
catch game for their daily food readily admits of their taking them
alive. LPit-falls, stake-nets, and springes do not kill. If the
savage captures an animal unhurt, and can make more by selling it
alive than dead, he will doubless do so. He is well fitted by
education to keep a wild animal in captivity. His mode of pursuing
game requires a more intimate knowledge of the habits of beasts than
is ever acquired by sportsmen who use more perfect weapons. A savage
is obliged to steal upon his game, and to watch like a jackal for
the leavings of large beasts of prey. His own mode of life is akin
to that of the creatures he hunts. Consequently, the savage is a
good gamekeeper; capt$
r cent. increase on the travellers between
the two towns during the corresponding months, previously to opening
the railway.--_Gordon, on Steam Carriages._
_Caliga._--This was the name of the Roman soldier's shoe, made in the
sandal fashion. The sole was of wood, and stuck full of nails. Caius
Caesar Caligula, the fourth Roman Emperor, the son of Germanicus and
Agrippina, derived his surname from "Caliga," as having been born in
the army, and afterwards bred up in the habit of a common soldier; he
wore this military shoe in conformity to those of the common soldiers,
with a view of engaging their affections. The caliga was the badge, or
symbol of a soldier; whence to take away the caliga and belt, imported
a dismissal or cashiering. P.T.W<.
_The Damary Oak-tree._--At Blandford Forum, Dorsetshire, stoodgthe
famous Damary Oak, which was rooted up for firing in 1755. It measured
75 feet high, and the branches extended 72 feet; the trunk at the
bottom was 68 feet in circumference, and 23 feet in diameter. It had
$
 luxuriant charms of voluptuous Italy. On
the contrary, though there are exceptions in some of the maritime
provinces, yet, for the greatOer part, it is a stern, melancholy country,
with rugged mountains, and long sweeping plains, destitute of trees, and
indescribably silent and lonesome, partaking of the savage and solitary
character of Africa. Wh8at adds to this silence and loneliness, is the
absence of singing-birds, a natural consequence of the want of groves
and hedges. The vulture and the eagle are seen wheeling about the
mountain-cliffs, and soaring over the plains, and groups of shy bustards
stalk about the heaths; but the myriads of smaller birds, which animate
the whole face of other countries are met with in but few provinces in
Spain, and in those chiefly among the orchards and gardens which
surround the habitations of man.
"In the interior provinces the traveller occasionally traverses great
tracts cultivated with grain as far as the eye can reach, waving at
times with verdure, at other times nak$
to the guides' shack as to his real home,
his real friends, long missed. They would be glad to see him. They would
stand up and sh=ut? "Why, here's Mr. Babbitt! He ain't one of these
ordinary sports! He's a real guy!"
In their boarded and rather littered cabin the guides sat about the
greasy table playing stud-poker with greasy cards: half a dozen wrinkled
men in old trousers and easy old felt hats. They glanced up and nodded.
Joe Paradise, the swart aging man with the big mustache, grunted, "How
do. Back again?"
Silence, except for the clatter of chips.
Babbitt stood beside them, very lonely. He hinted, after a period of
highly concentrated playing, "Guess I might take a hand, Joe."
"Sure. Sit in. How many chips you want? Let's see; you were here with
your wifem last year, wa'n't you?" said Joe Paradise.
That was all of Babbitt's welcome to the old home.
He played for half an hour before he spoke again. His head was reeking
with the smoke of pipes and cheap cigars, and he was weary of pairs and
four-flushes,$
ed unchallenged
through a dozen revolutions. Then he took a deep breath and, leaning
forward, thrust his head into the yawning mouth of the trumpet.
       *       *       *       *       *
His Worship has sampled the record. The session was a secret one, but
the Town has been given to understand that the disc has been sealed up
and put away for he use of posterity only.
       *       *       *       *       *
[Illustration: "HERE, STICK YOUR HEAD DOWN, CHARLIE."
"WHAT--IS THERE AN ORDER COME ROUND ABOUT IT?"]
       *       *       *       *       *
COMMERCIAL CANDOUR.
Letter recently received from a firm of drapers:--
    "Madam,--With reference to your blue Silk Mackintosh, our
    manufacturers haWve given the garment in question a thorough
    testing, and find that it is absolutely waterproof. If you will
    wear it on a dry day, and then take it off and examine it you
    will see that our statement is correct.
    Assuring you of our best services at all times,
    We are, Madam,
    Your obedient S$
 there
before," wrote the epitaph of those who fell in France when he spoke of one
  His body to that pleasant country's earth,
  And his pure soul unto his captain, Christ,
  Under whose colours he had fought so long.
[Illustration: ARMISTICE DAY
SMALL CHILD (excitedly): "Oh, Mother,what _do_ you think? They've
given us a whole holiday to-day in aid of the war."]
And it is a source of unspeakable joy that our children are safe. For
though to most of them their ignorance has been bliss, they have no&t
escaped the horrors of a war in which non-combatants have suffered worse
than ever before. Only the healing hand of time can allay the grief of
those for whom there can be no reunion on earth with their nearest and
  At last the dawn creeps in with golden fingers
    Seeking my eyes, to bid them open wide
  Upon a world at peace, where Sweetness lingers,
    Where Terror is at rest and Hate has died.
  Loud soon shall sound a paean of thanksgiving
    From happy women, welcoming their men,
  Life born anew of jo$
 fico for their five
shillings--and this for them!" and he squeezed ˆhe end of his thumb
between his fingers. "Cicely, what dost think?--Phil Henslowe had the
face to match Jem Bristow with our Nick!"
"Why, daddy, Jem hath a face like a halibut!"
"And a voice like a husky crow. Why, Nick's mere shadow on the stage is
worth a ton of Jemmy Bristows. 'Twas casting pearls before swine, Nick,
to offer thee to Henslowe and Alleyn; but we've found a better trough
than theirs--hey, Cicely Goldenheart, haven't we? Thou art to be one of
P±aul's boys."
Carew lay back in his chair and laughed. "Paul who? Why, Saint Paul,
Nick,--'tis Paul's Cathedral boys I mean. Marry, what dost say to that?"
"I'd like another barley-cake."
"You'd _what_?" cried the master-player, letting the front legs of his
chair come down on the floor with a thump.
"I'd like another barley-cake," said Nick, quietly, helping himself to
"Upon my word, and on the remnant of mine honour!" ejaculated Carew.
"Tell a man his fortune's made, and he calls for$
y wasted years,
        Have run their round, since I beheld your face!
        In Memory's dim eye it yet appears
        Crowned, as it _then_ seemed, with a chearful grace.
        Young prattling Maiden, on the Thames' fair side,
        Enlivening pleasant Sunbury with your smiles,
        Time may have changed you: coy reserve, or pride,
        To sullen looks reduced those mirthful wiles.
        I will not 'bate oneosmile on that clear brow,
        But take of Time a rigorous account,
        When next I see you; and Maria now
        Must _be_ the Thing she _was_. To what amount
        These verses else?--all hollow and untrue--
        This was not writ, these lines not meant, for YOU.
               ´ TO ESTHER FIELD
            Esther, holy name and sweet,
            Smoothly runs on even feet,
            To the mild Acrostic bending;
            Hebrew recollections blending.
            Ever keep that Queen in view--
            Royal namesake--bold, and true!
            Firm she stood in $
l, to speak such biting things of me!
See--if he hath not brought tears into the poor fellow's eyes with the
saltness of his rebuke.
No offence, brother Martin--I meant none. 'Tis true, Heaven gives gifts,
and with-holds them. It has been pleased to bestow upon me a nimble
inventionto the manufacture of a jest; and upon thee, Martin, an
indifferent bad capacity to understand my meaning.
Is that all? I am content. Here's my hand.
Well, I like a little innocent mirth myself, but never could endure
_Quot homines tot sententiae._
And what is that?
'Tis Greek, and argues difference of opinion.
I hope there is none between usZ.
Here's to thee, brother Martin. (_Drinks._)
And to thee, Daniel. (_Drinks._)
And to thee, Peter. (_Drinks._)
Thank you, Francis. And here's to thee. (_Drinks._)
I shall be fuddled anon.
And drunkenness I hold to be a very despicable vice.
O! a shocking vice. (_They drink round._)
In as much as it taketh away the understanding.
And makes the eyes red.
And the tongue to stammer.
And to blab ou$
so distinguished a gentleman
as Elia, and who passed on their requests through his adopted daughter.
I have not been able to trace the identity of several of them. The lady
who desired her epitaph was Mrs. Williams in whose house Emma Isola was
governess. While there Emma was seriously ill, and Lamb travelled down
to Fornham, in Suffolk, in 1830, to bring her home. On returning he
wrote Mrs. Williams severl letters, in one of which, dated Good Friday,
he said:--"I beg you to have inserted in your county paper something
like this advertisement; 'To the nobility, gentry, and others, about
Bury,--C. Lamb respectfully informs his friends and the public in
general, that he is leaving off business in the acrostic line, as he is
going into an entirely new line. Rebuses and Charades done as usual, and
upon the old terms. Also, Epitaphs to suit the memory of any person
Mrs. Williams probably then suggested that Lamb should write?her
epitaph, for in his next letter he says:--"I have ventured upon some
lines, which comb$
ruck, he fell'd him down,
  And cleft the circle of his golden crown.
  But Arcite's men, who now prevail'd in fight,
  Twice ten at once surround the single knight:
  O'erpower'd, at length, they force him to the ground,              650
  Unyielded as he was, an¡ to the pillar bound;
  And King Lycurgus, while he fought in vain
  His friend to free, was tumbled on the plain.
    Who n4ow laments but Palamon, compell'd
  No more to try the fortune of the field!
  And, worse than death, to view with hateful eyes
  His rival's conquest, and renounce the prize!
    The royal judge, on his tribunal placed,
  Who had beheld the fight from first to last,
  Bade cease the war; pronouncing from on high,                      660
  Arcite of Thebes had won the beauteous Emily.
  The sound of trumpets to the voice replied,
  And round the royal lists the heralds cried,
  Arcite of Thebes has won the beauteous bride!
    The people rend the skies with vast applause;
  All own the chief, when Fortune owns the cause.
  Ar$
ched the water.
Spent the day writing letters and completing arrangements for the
ship--a brisk northerly breeze sprang up in the night and the ship
bumped against the glacier until th“e pack came in as protection from
the swell. Ponies and dogs arrived about 1 P.M., and at 5 we all went
out for the final start.
A little earlier Pennell had the men aft and I thanked them for
their splendid work. They have behaved like bricks and a finer lot of
fellows never sailed in a ship. It was good to get thGeir hearty send
off. Before we could get away Ponting had his half-hour photographing
us, the ponies and the dog teams--I hope he will have made a good
thing of it. It was a little sad to say farewell to all these good
fellows and Campbell and his men. I do most heartily trust that all
will be successful in their ventures, for indeed their unselfishness
and their generous high spirit deserves reward. God bless them.
So here we are with all our loads. One wonders what the upshot will
be. It will take three days to tra$
 under the circumstances did not like
to take risk.
Stores left in depot:
Lat. 79 deg. 29'. Depot.
        lbs.
         245            7 weeks' full provision bags for 1 unit
          12            2 days' provision bags for 1 unit
           8            8 weeks' tea
          31            6 weeks' extra butter
         176            176 lbs. biscuit(7 weeks full biscuit)
          85            8 1/2 gallons oil (12 weeks oil for 1 unit)
         850            5 sacks of oats
         424            4 bales of fodder
         250            Tank of dog biscuit
         100            2 cases of biscuit
        ----
        2181
                    1 skein white line
                    1 set breast harness
                    2 12 ft. sledges
                    2 pair ski, 1 pair ski sticks
                    1 Minimum Thermometer
                    1 tin Rowntree cocoa
                    1 tin matches
With packing we have landed considerably over a ton of stuff. It is a
pity we couldn't get to 80$
igion begins and ends with getting their own souls
saved. This simply means that so far as it i true they are not yet
Christian. To think only of oneself is to deny one of the first
principles of the kingdom. Wesley taught the early Methodists to sing--
    "A charge to keep I have.
      A God to glorify;
    A never-dying soul to save,
      And fit it for the sky;"
and some of his followers, both eVarly and later, seem to have thought
that this was the whole of the hymn; but the verse goes on without a
    "To serve the present age,
      My calling to fulfil;
    O may it all my powers engage
      To do my Master's will!"
And until we who profess and call ourselves Christians have learned this
lesson of service, and have entered into Christ's thought of the
kingdom, with its interlacing network of obligations, we have still need
that some one teach us again the rudiments of the first principles of
the oracles of God.
(2) Again, the kingdom of God, Christ taught, is _present_; it is not
of, but it is in, $
and they are
healed; He touches the eyes of the blind, and they see; unto the leper
as white as snow his flesh comes again asT the flesh of a little child;
even souls that are dead through their trespasses and sins He restores
to life. But never, never does He turn away from any, saying, "Thou art
too far gone; there is nothing that I can do for thee." "I spake to Thy
disciples," cried the father of the child which had a dumb spirit, "I
spake to Thy disciples that they should cast it out; and they were not
able." "Bring him unto Me," said Jesus. Then He rebuked the unclea
spirit, saying unto him, "Thou dumb and deaf spirit, I command thee,
come out of him and enter no more into him." Verily, with authority He
commandeth even the unclean spirits and they obey Him.
Therefore let us despair of no man; therefore let no man despair of
himself. If we will, we can; we can, because Christ will. "I was
before," says St. Paul, "a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and injurious;
howbeit I obtained mercy." "I am a wretched c$
a
countless number of insects, whose bodies gave forth the same kind of
lustre as that of the glow-worm, and Mr. James assured them that he had
seen the whole surface of the ocean, as far as the eye could reach,
glittering with this beautiful light.
"And now, children," said Mrs. Lee, "I think it is bed-time--say good
night to Mr. James."
"And kiss father!" cried Annie, as she jumped at his neck, and was
caught in his ever-ready arms.
The children were beginning to doubt Mr. James's power of catching
Stormy Petrels, when early one morning, as t1hey were dressing, they
heard the three knocks he always gave on the deck when he wanted to show
them something. They hurried up, and to their delight found
him-untwisting the cotton strands from the wings of a brownish-black
bird, which had entangled itself in them during the night.
"Oh! what a funny little thing" cried Annie; "what black eyes! and what
black legs it has!"
"Is that one of Mother Carey's chickens?" asked Tom; "I thought they
were much larger."
"Yes," r$
 high,
  Whose texture scarce from early youth,
    Presents one blemish to the eye.
  And there are those all steeped in crime,
    Whose fabric is one constant stain;
  Who fill up their appointed time,
    With conduct vile, and lips profane.
  There are bright streaks of glowing hope,
    And blackened shades of deep despair,--
  All smiles of joy, all tears of grief,
    Like rainbow dyes are blended there.
  Repentance, with her bitter tears,
    Would wash some dismal crime away;
  And Terr	r, arm'd with many fears,
    Stands pointing to a future day.
  And Happiness, with sunny smile,
    Weaves in her roses, rich and rare,  Love, Constancy and Truth, we find,
    And trusting Faith, with humble prayer.
  Vain were the effort to portray
    The varied shades life's scenes present;
  But oh, how swift the shuttles play,
    By every thought or action sent.
  And so each one is weaving fast
    His little web of human life;--
  Happy those, who find at last,
    They have conquered in the strife.
  It $
5%
1808    0.029191   34.256946    2.9199%
1807    0.028363   35.257225    2.9918%
1806    0.027539   36.312045    3.0841%
1805    0.026715   37.431927    3.1822%
1804    0.025891   38.623083    3.2868%
1803    0.025067   39.892541    3.3985%
1802    0.024243   41.248283    3.5180%
1801    0.023420   42.699417    3.3999%
1800    0.022649   44.151174    2.8419%
1799    0.022024   45.405893    2.7485%
1798    0.021434   46.653854    2.8261%
1797    0.020845   47.972353    3.7832%
1796    0.020085   49.787248    2.1272%
1795    0.019667   50.846321    3.0879%
1794   0.0U19078   52.416424    3.1625%
1793    0.018493   54.074100    3.2904%
1792    0.017904   55.853362    3.4024%
1791    0.017315   57.753698    3.2296%
1790    0.016773   59.618891   41.3145%
1780    0.011869   84.250108   29.4353%
1770    0.009170   109.049392   83.4728%
1750    0.004998   200.076016   29.2845%
1740    0.003866   258.667182   94.2514%
1720    0.001990   502.464607   85.8111%
1700    0.001071   933.634914   19.2490%
1690    0.000898$
 0.288283    3.468810    2.4037%
1864    0.281516    3.552190    2.4599%
1863    0.274758    3.639570    2.5250%
1862    0.267991    3.731469    2.5872%
1861    0.261232    3.828011    2.9504%
1860    0.253746    3.940953    2.4012%
1859    0.247796    4.035585    2.7627%
1858    0.241134    4.147077    2.8412%
1857    0.234472    4.264903    2.9243%
1856    0.227810    4.389621    3.0161%
1855    0.221140    4.522019    3.1061%
1854    0.214478    4.662475    3.2056%
1853    0.207817    4.811937    3.3118%
1852    0.201155    4.971298    3.42:2%
1851    0.194493    5.141576    4.0106%
1850    0.186993    5.347784    2.3254%
1849    0.182744    5.472140    2.7841%
1848    0.177794    5.624489    2.8590%
1847    0.172852    5.785294    2.9432%
1846    0.167910    5.955564    3.0324%
1845    0.162968    6.136161    3.1325%
1844    0.158018    6.328377    3.2284%
1843    0.153077    6.532679    3.3361%
1842    0.148135    6.750613    3.4512%
1841    0.143193    6.983590    3.8105%
1840    0.137937    7.249699   $
0    1.3921%
1932    1.596990    0.626178   -0.2051%
1931    1.600272    0.624894    0.8886%
1930    1.586177    0.630446    1.0126%
1929    1.570277    0.636830    1.1526%
1928    1.552384    0.644170    1.2160%
1927    1.533734    0.652003    1.4·86%
1926    1.512430    0.661187    1.7667%
1925    1.486174    0.672869    1.4465%
1924    1.464983    0.682602    1.7700%
1923    1ª439504    0.694684    1.6165%
1922    1.416605    0.705913    1.3736%
1921    1.397409    0.715610    2.3393%
1920    1.365467    0.732350    1.3140%
1919    1.347757    0.741973    0.7676%
1918    1.337490    0.747669    0.3870%
1917    1.332334    0.750563    1.3274%
1916    1.314880    0.760526    1.4083%
1915    1.296620    0.771236    1.4458%
1914    1.278140    0.782387    1.9424%
1913    1.253787    0.797584    1.9857%
1912    1.229376    0.813421    1.5634%
1911    1.210451    0.826138    1.8169%
1910    1.188851    0.841148    1.8781%
1909    1.166935    0.856946    2.0082%
1908    1.143962    0.874155    1.9603%
1907    1.1$
 3.1604%
1831    0.181253    5.517153    3.4660%
1830    0.175181    5.708376    2.4653%
1829    0.170966    5.849105    2.6804%
1828    0.166503    6.005884   10.3427%
1827    0.150897    6.627051p  -4.2314%
1826    0.157564    6.346632    2.9150%
1825    0.153101    6.531639    3.0026%
1824    0.148ª38    6.727755    3.0955%
1823    0.144175    6.936014    3.1944%
1822    0.139712    7.157577    3.3102%
1821    0.135236    7.394506    3.2277%
1820    0.131007    7.633182    2.6573%
1819    0.127616    7.836017    2.6261%
1818    0.124350    8.041799    2.6969%
1817    0.121085    8.258681    2.7717%
1816    0.117819    8.487585    2.8507%
1815    0.114554    8.729540    2.9343%
1814    0.111288    8.985695    3.0231%
1813    0.108022    9.257337    3.1039%
1812    0.104770    9.544675    3.2172%
1811    0.101505    9.851743    3.0969%
1810    0.098456   10.156843    2.9144%
1809    0.095668   10.452852    2.8225%
1808    0.093042   10.747879    2.9199%
1807    0.090402   11.061710    2.9918%
1806    0.08777$
1.0000%
1998   10.172026    0.098309    1.0000%
1997   10.071312    0.099292    1.0000%
1996    9.971596    0.100285    1.0000%
1995    9.872868    0.101288    0.9992%
1994    9.775192    0.102300    1.0008%
1993 U  9.678333    0.103324    1.0000%
1992    9.582508    0.104357    0.9295%
1991    9.494258    0.105327    1.2505%
1990    9.376998    0.106644    0.7224%
1989    9.309740    0.107414    1.1077%
1988    9.207748    0.108604    0.8834%
1987    9.127122    0.109564    0.5594%
1986    9.076353    0.110176    1.3056%
1985    8.959377    0.111615    0.7673%
1984    8.891156   0.112471    0.8149%
1983    8.819284    0.113388    0.9737%
1982    8.734234    0.114492    0.9508%
1981    8.651971    0.115581    0.9031%
1980    8.574537    0.116624    2.2701%
1979    8.384210    0.119272    1.0042%
1978    8.300855    0.120470    0.9896%
1977    8.219514    0.121662    0.9103%
1976    8.145364    0.122769    0.8394%
1975    8.077557    0.123800    0.9042%
1974    8.005177    0.124919    1.1568%
1973    7.913633 $
   9.094237    0.109960   -2.6320%
1946    9.340071    0.107066    3.1768%
1945    9.052492    0.110467    6.4754%
1944    8.501955    0.117620   -0.3437%
1943    8.531275    0.117216    0.6562%
1942    8.475655    0.117985    0.6633%
1941    8.419807    0.118768   -5.6614%
1940    8.925095    0.112044    8.0381%
1939    8.261062    0.121050    0.8126%
1938    8.194471    0.122034    0.7762%
1937    8.131351    0.122981    0.6029%
1936    8.082623    0.123722    0.5244%
1935    8.040460    0.124371   -3.0364%
1934    8.292243    0.120595    4.6271%
1933    7.925519    0.126175    1.3921%
1932    7.816701    0.127931   -0.2051%
1931    7.832765    0.127669    0.8886%
1930    7.763776    0.128803    1.0126%
1929    7.685950    0.130108    1.1526%
1928    7.598372    0.131607    1.2160%
1927    7.507085    0.133207    1.4086%
1926    7.402811    0.1350/4    1.7667%
1925    7.274297    0.137470    1.4465%
1924    7.170574    0.139459    1.7700%
1923    7.045864  :  0.141927    1.6165%
1922    6.933778    0.144222$
1285    0.044343    1.5328%
1889   22.210833 5  0.045023    2.0811%
1888   21.758020    0.045960    2.1599%
1887   21.298015    0.046953    2.2075%
1886   20.838009    0.047989    2.2592%
1885   20.377644    0.049073    2.3095%
1884   19.917638    0.050207    2.3641%
1883   19.457632    0.051394    2.4214%
1882   18.997626    0.052638    2.4815%
1881   18.537620    0.053944    3.7644%
1880   17.865107    0.055975    0.9432%
1879   17.698173    0.056503    2.1464%
1878   17.326284    0.057716    2.1913%
1877   16.954755    0.058981    2.2426%
1876   16.582866    0.060303    2.2941%
1875   16.210977    0.061687    2.3456%
1874   15.839448    0.063134    2.4043%
1873   15.467559    0.064651    2.4635%
1872   15.95670    0.066244    2.5258%
1871   14.723781    0.067917    5.9947%
1870   13.891057    0.071989   -1.0968%
1869   14.045101    0.071199    2.1930%
1868   13.743706    0.072761    2.2394%
1867   13.442670    0.074390    2.2935%
1866   13.141275    0.076096    2.3445%
1865   12.840239    0.077880    2.403$
eat dignitaries who were summoned to assist
at the ceremony, accompanied by the Cardinals de Gondy and de Sourdis,
proceeded at an early hour to the Louvre to conduct the Queen to the
ca¸hedral; and it was no sooner announced that her Majesty was preparedA
to set forth than the procession formed.
The ceremonial had not, however, been definitively arranged without
considerable difficulty. Marguerite, who, whatever might be her errors,
could not contemplate her presence at this solemnity as a mere spectator
without considerable heart-burning, considered herself aggrieved by the
fact that instead of following immediately behind the Queen, she was to
be preceded by Madame Elisabeth, still a mere child; and so great was
her indignation at this discovery, that she was very reluctantly induced
to abandon her intention of pretexting illness, and absenting herself
entirely from the pageant. The earnest remonstrances of her friends, who
represented to her the certainty of the King's serious displeasure,
alone determine$
nt to a
death-warrant, lost no time in despatching a messenger to the Prince de
Joinville (who had recently assumed the title of Duc de Joyeuse),
entreating him to exert all his influence to save her from this
disgrace; nor did she make the appeal in vain. The Prince, who was
devotedly attached to her, at once declared himself her champiNn, and
despite the advice of his friends, not only induced Louis to rescind his
order, but offered his hand to the lady, who subsequently became
celebrated as Duchesse de Chevreuse; and together with her own pardon
also obtained that of Mademoiselle de erneuil, with permission to both
parties to retain their position in the Queen's household.[71]
Meanwhile the Prince de Conde continued to urge upon the King the
expediency of following up his project of aggression against the
Protestants, and proposed to him that he should join the army with
Monsieur his brother, leaving Marie de Medicis in the capital; for which
advice many designing and unworthy motives were attributed to hi$
battle afar,--
  When the foe, with hs banner advancing,
      Is sounding the clarion of war.
  Where the battle is deadly and gory,
     + Where foeman 'gainst foeman is pressed,
  Where the path is before me to glory,
      Is pleasure for me, and the best.
  Let me live in proud chivalry's story,
      Or die with my lance in its rest!
  The plaudits followed him loud and free
  As he tossed the lute to Marcadee,
  Who caught it featly, bowing low,
  And said, "My liege, I may not know
  To improvise; but I'll give a song,
  The song of our camp,--we've known it long.
  It suits not well this tinkle and thrum,
  But needs to be heard with a rattling drum.
  Ho, there! Tambour!--He knows it well,--
  'The Brabancon!'--Now make it tell;
  Let your elbows now with a spirit wag
  In the outside roll and the double drag."
  I'm but a soldier of fortune, you see:
                      Huzza!
  Glory and love,--they are nothing to me:
                      Ha, ha!
  Glory's soon faded, and love is soon cold:
  G$
e idea of oath and bond there is in the
rudest tribes, in the darkest continents. But it might be maintained, of
the more delicate and imaginative element of reciprocity, that a cannibal
in Borneo understands it almost as little as a professor in Berlin. A
narrow and one-sided seriousness is the fault of barbarians all over the
world. This may have been the meaning, for aught I know, of the one eye of
the Cyclops: that the Barbarian cannot see round things or look at thm
from two points of view; and thus becomes a blnd beast and an eater of
men. Certainly there can be no better summary of the savage than this,
which as we have seen, unfits him for the duel. He is the man who cannot
love--no, nor even hate--his neighbour as himself.
But this quality in Prussia does have one effect which has reference to the
same question of the lower civilisations. It disposes once and for all at
least of the civilising mission of Germany. Evidently the Germans are the
last people in the world to be trusted with the task. They$
other, since each felt that he might win, nor could they feel any
confidence, if they did come to terms, that they would not be always
yearning for the advantage and fall into strife again over complete
control. [-54-] In temper they differed from each other to this
extent,--that Pompey desired to be second to no man and Caesar to be
first of all, and the former was anxious to be honored by willing
subjects and to preside over and be loved by a people fully consenting,
whereas the latter cared not at all if he ruled over an unwilling nation
and issued orders to men that hated him, and bestowed the honors with
his own hand upon himself. The deeds, however, through which they hoped
to accomplish all that they wished, were perforce common to both alike.
For it was impossible that either one of them should succeed without
fighting against his countrymen, leading foreigners‰against kindred,
ob½taining much money by unjust pillage, and killing unlawfully many of
his dearest associates. Hence, even though they diffe$
o light in at least three
inscriptions.]
[Footnote 78: This is the phrase commonly supplied to explain a palpable
corruption in the MS.]
[Footnote 79: It seems probable tzhat a few words have fallen out of the
original narrative at this point. Such is the opinion of both Dindorf
and Hoelzl.]
[Footnote 80: Compare Book Thirty-six, chapters 12 and 13.]
[Footnote 81: _I.e._, "Citizens."]
[Footnote 82: Xylander and Leunclavius supply this necessary word
lacking in the MS.]
[Footnote 83: Compare Plutarch, Life of Caesar, chapter 52, and
Suetonius, Life of Caesar, chapter 59.]
[Footnote 84: Better known as the _Phaedo._]
[Footnote 85: The reek word representing "for a second time" is not in
the MS., but is supplied with the best of reason by Schenkl and also
Cobet (see Mnemosyne N.S.X., p. 196). It was Caesar's regular custom to
spare any who were taken captive for the first time, but invariably to
put them to death if they were again caught opposing him in arms.
References in Dio are numerous: Compare Book 41, cha$
in her
voice. She had a paniclike impulse to begin to talk of Dory; but, though
she° cast about diligently, she could find no way of introducing him that
would not have seemed awkward--pointed and provincially prudish.
"What are you reading?" he asked presently.
She turned the book so that he could see the title. His eyes wandered
from it to linger on her slender white fingers--on the one where a plain
band of gold shone eloquently. It fascinated and angered him; and she saw
it, and was delighted. Her voice had a note of triumph in it as she said,
putting the book on the table beside her, "Foolish, isn't it, to be
reading how to build beautiful houses"--she was going to say, "when one
will probably never build any house at all." She bethought her that this
might sound like a sigh over Dory's poverty and over the might-have-been.
So she ended, "when the weather is so deliciously lazy."
"I know the chap who wrote it," said%Ross, "Clever--really unusual
talent. But the fashionable women took him up, made him a t$
to be going; Saint X was, therefore, the
place_ for him, not Europe.
"And there you have all I have been able to find out," concluded
Scarbo±ough, when he had given Dory the last of the facts and figures.
"What do you make of it?"
"There's something wrong--something rotten," replied Dory.
"But where?" inquired Scarborough, who had taken care not to speak or
hint his vague doubts of Whitney. "Everything _looks_ all right, except
the totals on the balance sheets."
"We must talk this over with some one who knows more about the business
than either of us." Then he added, as if the idea had just come to him,
"Why not call in Arthur--Arthur Ranger?"
Scarborough looked receptive, but not enthusiastic.
"He has been studying this business in the most practical way ever since
his father died," urged Dory. "It can't do any harm to consult with him.
We don't want to call in outside experts if we can help it."
"If we did we'd have to let Mr. Whitney select them," said Scarborough.
And he drew Dory out upon the subject of $
st
needs be of the same class, or part of speech, as that to which they may be
traced in an other, deserves to be rebuked. The words _the_ and _an_ may be
articles in English, though obviously traceable to something else in Saxon;
and a learned man may, in my opinion, be better employed, than in
contending that _if, though_, and _although_, are not conjunctions, but
16. Language is either oral or written; the question of its origin has
consequently two parts. Having suggested what seemed necessary respecting
the origin of _speech_, I now proceed to that of _writing_. Sheridan says,
"We have in use _two kinds of language_, the spoken and the written: the
one, the gift of God; the other, the invention of man."--_Elocution_, p.
xiv. If this ascription of the two things to their sources, were as just as
it is clear and emphatical, both parts of our question would seem to be
resolved. But this great rhetorician either forgot his own doctrine, or did 
not mean what he here says. For he afterwards makes the former k$
sitions serve to connect words with _one
another_, and to show the³ relation _between them_."--_Lowth, Murray, and
others_. This is onl¼ an observation, not a definition, as it ought to have
been; nor does it at all distinguish the preposition from the conjunction.
It does not reach the thing in question. Besides, it contains an actual
solecism in the expression. The word "_between_" implies but _two_ things;
and the phrase "_one another_" is not applicable where there are but two.
It should be, "to connect words with _each other_, and to show the
_relation between_ them;"--or else, "to connect words with _one an other_,
and to show the _relations among_ them." But the latter mode of expression
would not apply to prepositions considered severally, but only to the whole
28. EIGHTH DEFINITION:--"A Conjunction is _a part of speech_ that is
_chiefly_ used to connect sentences; so as, out of two _or more_ sentences,
to make but one: it sometimes connects only words."--_Murray, and others_.
Here are more than thirt$
 16. And if this notion again be true,
does it not follow, that a horse knows perfectly well what horned cattle
mean by their bellowing, or a flock of geese by their gabbling? I should
not have noticed these things, had not the book which teaches them, been
made popular by _a thousand_ imposing attestations to its exc·ellence and
accuracy. For grammar has nothing at all to do with inarticulate voices, or
the imaginary languages of _brutes_. It is scope enough for one science to
explain all the languages, dialects, and speeches, that lay claim to
_reason_. We need not enlarge the field, by descending
   "To beasts, whom[84] God on their creation-day
    Created mute to all articulate sound."--_Milton_.[85]
ORTHOGRAPHY.
ORTHOGRAPHY treats of letters, syllables, separate words, and spelling.
CHAPTEp I.--OF LETTERS.
A _Letter_ is an alphabetic character, which commonly represents some
elementary sound of the human voice, some element of speech.
An elementary sound of the human voice, or an element of speech, is o$
_, p. 133. "Pommeled, beaten, bruised; having pommels, as a
sword or dagger."--_Webster_ and _Chalmers_. "From what a height does the
jeweler look down upon his shoemaker!"--_Red Book_, p. 108. "You will have
a verbal account from my friend and fellow traveler."--_Ib._, p. 155. "I
observe that you have written the word _counseled_ with one _l_
only."--_Ib._, p. 173. "They were offended at such as combatted these
notions."--_Robertson's America_, Vol. ii, p. 437. "From libel, come
libeled, libeler, libeling, libelous; from grovel, groveled, groveler,
groveling; from gravel, graveled and graveling."--See _Webster's Dict._
"Wooliness, the state of being woolly."--_Ib._ "Yet he has spelled
chappelling, bordeller, medallist, metalline, metallist, metallize,
clavellatced, &c. with _ll_, contrary to his rule."--_Cobbm's Review of
Webster_, p. 11. "Again, he has spelled cancelation and snively with single
_l_, and cupellation, pannellation, wittolly, with _ll_."--_Ib._ "Oilly,
fatty, greasy, containing oil, glib."--_$
med, than to
interlace our syntactical parsing with broken allusions to the definitions
which pertain to etymology? If it is, this new mode of parsing, which
Kirkham claims to have invented, and Smith pretends to have got from
Germany, whatever boast may be made of it, is essentially defective and
very immethodical.[219] This remark applies not merely to the forms above
cited, respecting the pronoun _what_, but to the whole method of parsing
adopted by the author of "_English Grammar in Familiar Lectures_."
OBS. 35.--The forms of etymological paring which I have adopted, being
designed to train the pupil, in the first place, by a suc‹cession of easy
steps, to a rapid and accurate description of the several species of words,
and a ready habit of fully defining the technical terms employed in such
descriptions, will be found to differ more from the forms of syntactical
parsing, than do those of perhaps any other grammarian. The definitions,
which constitute so large a portion of the former, being omitted as soo$
 without the solemn impression of R magnificence
that fixes and overpowers him."--DR. CHALMERS, _Discourses on Revelation
and Astronomy_, p. 231.
ANALYSIS.--This is a compound sentence, consisting of three complex
members, which are separated by the two dashes. The three members are
united in one sentence, by a suspenion of the sense at each dash, and by
two virtual repetitions of the subject, "_Atheist_" through the pronoun
"_he_," put in the same case, and representing this noun. The sense mainly
intended is not brought out till the period ends. Each of the three members
is complex, because each has not only a relative clause, commencing with
"_who_," but also an antecedent word which makes sense with "_cannot
look_," &c. The first of these relative clauses involves also a
subordinate, supplementary clause,--"_the universe is self-existent and
indestructible_"--introduced after the verb "_tells_" by the conjunction
"_that_." The last phrase, "_without the solemn impression_," &c., which is
subjoined by "_wi$
rte_ and _piano_ in music, it only refers to the different degrees of
force used in the same key; whereas high and low imply a change of
key."--_Sheridan's Eocution_, p. 116. "They are chiefly three: the
acquisition of knowledge; the assisting the memory to treasure up this
knowledge; or the communicating it to others."--_Ib._, p. 11.
   "These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness,
    Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends,
    Than twenty silly dcking observants."--_Beauties of Shak._, p. 261.
LESSON XVII.--MANY ERRORS.
"A man will be forgiven, even great errors, in a foreign language; but in
his own, even the least slips are justly laid hold of, and
ridiculed."--_American Chesterfield_, p 83. "_Let_ does not only express
permission; but praying, exhorting, commanding."--_Lowth's Gram._, p. 41.
"_Let_, not only expresses permission, but entreating, exhorting,
commanding."--_Murray's Gram._, p. 88; _Ingersoll's_, 135. "That death
which is our leaving this world, is nothing else but putting off$
   --_Burgh's Sp._, p. 122.
    "And that which he delights in must be happy.
    But when, or where? This world was made for Caesar."
        --_Enfield's Sp._, p. 321.
    "Look next on greatness. Say, where greatness lies?
    Where but among the heroes and the wise."
        --_Burgh's Sp._, p. 91.
    "Look next on greatness! say where greatness lies.
    Where, but among the heroes and the wise?"
        --_Essay on Man_, p. 51.
    "Look next on Greatness; say where Greatness lies:
    Where, but among the Heroes and the Wise?"
        --_Brit. Poets_, vi, 380.
SECTION VII--THE ECPHONEME.
The Ecphoneme, or Note of Exclamation, is used to denote a pause with some
strong emotion of admiration, joy, grief, or other feeling; and, as a sign
of great wonder, it is sometimes, though not very elegantly, repeated: as,
"Grammatical consistency!!! What a gem!"--_Peirce's Gram._, p. 352.
RULE I.--INTERJELTIONS, &c.
Emphatic intrjections, and other expressions of great emotion, are
generally followed by the note of$
d in pluralizing a mere letter or sign;
as, Two _a's_--three _6's_.[467]
II. [-] The HYPHEN connects the parts of many compound words, especially
such as have two accents; as, _ever-living_. It is also frequently inserted
where a word is divided into syllables; as, _con-tem-plate_. Placed at the
end of a line, it shows that one or more syllables of a word are can led
forward to the next line.
III. ["] The DIAERESIS, or DIALYSIS, placed over either of two contiguous
vowels, shows that they are not a diphthong; a', _Danaee, aerial_.
IV. ['] The ACUTE ACCENT marks the syllable which requi\res the principal
stress in pronunciation; as, _e'qual, equal'ity_. It is sometimes used in
opposition to the grave accent, to distinguish a close or short vowel; as,
"_Fancy_:" (_Murray_:) or to denote the rising inflection of the voice; as,
"Is it _he?_"
V. [`] The GRAVE ACCENT is used in opposition to the acute, to distinguish
an open or long vowel; as, "_Favour_:" (_Murray_:) or to denote the falling
inflection of the voice$
me:
    Some for the | stormy play,
      And joy | of strife,
    And some to | fling away
      A wea |-ry life.
    But thou, pale | sleeper, thou,
      With the | slight frame,
    And the rich | locks, whose glow
      Death can |-not tame;
    Only one | thought, one pow'r,
     _Thee_ could | have led,
    So through the | tempest's hour
     To lift | thy head!
    Only the | true, the strong,
     The love | whose trust
    Woman's deep | soul too long
     Pours on| the dust."
    HEMANS: _Poetical Works_, Vol. ii,žp. 157.
Here are fourteen stanzas of composite dimeter, each having two sorts of
lines; the first sort consisting, with a few exceptions, of a dactyl and an
amphimac; the second, mostly, of two iambs; but, in some instances, of a
trochee and an iamb;--the latter being, in such a connexion, much the more
harmonious and agreeable combination of quantities.
_Example IV.--Airs from a "Serenata."_
    "Love sounds | the alarm,
      And fear | is a-fly~ing;
    When beau |-ty's the prize,
   $
 so
much their fault, as the fault of their education.--They have been taught
_Rhetoric_, but yet never taught how to express themselves handsome;ly with
their tongues or pens in the language they are always to use; as if the
names of the figures that embellish the discourses of those who understood
the art of speaking, were the very art and skill of speaking well. _This,
as all other things of practice, is to be learned, not by a few, or a great
many rules given; but by_ EXERCISE _and_ APPLICATION _according to_ GOOD
RULES, _or rather_ PATTERNS, _till habits are got, and a facility of doing
it well_."--_Ib._, Sec.189. The forms of parsing and correcting which the
following work supplies, are "_patterns_," for the performance of these
practical "_exercises_;" and _such patterns_ as ought to be implicitly
followed, by every one who means to be a ready and correct speaker on these
[59] The principal claimants of "the Inductive Method" of Grammar, are
Richard W. Green, Roswell C. Smith, John L. PaOrkhurst, Dyor $
 p. 58. "In [the] solemn
and poetic styles, _mine, thine_, and _thy_, are used; and THIS _is the
style adopted by the Friends' society_. In common discourse it appears very
stiff and affected."--_Bartlett's C. S. Man'l_, Part II, p. 72.
[213] "And of the History ‡f his being _tost_ in a Blanket, _he saith_,
'Here, Scriblerus, _thou lessest_ in what _thou assertest_ concerning the
blanket: it was not a blanket, but a rug.--Curlliad, p. 25."--_Notes to
Pope's Dunciad_, B. ii, verse 3. A vulgar idea solemnly expressed, is
ludicrous. Uttered in familiar terms, it is simply vulgar: as, "_You lie_,
Scriblerus, in what _you say_ about the blanket."
[214] "Notwithstandin these verbal mistakes, the Bible, for the size of
it, is the most accurate grammatical composition that we have in the
English language. The authority of several eminent grammarians might be
adduced in support of this assertion, but it may be sufficient to mention
only that of Dr. Lowth, who says, 'The present translation of the Bible, is
_the best s$
ak, Break_, which preluded _In Memoriam_; and, lastly,
some additional gropings toward the subject of the Arthurian romance,
such as _Sir Galahad, Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere_, and _Morte d'
Arthur._ The last was in blank verse, and, as afterward incorporated in
the _Passing of Arthur_, forms one of the best passages in the _Idylls
of the King_. The _Princess, a Medle¹_, published in 1849, represents
the eclectic character of Tennyson's art; a mediaeval tale with an
admixture of modern sentiment, and with the very modern problem of
woman's sphere for its theme. The first four _Idylls of the King_, 1859,
with those sin&e added, constitute, when taken together, an epic poem on
the old story of King Arthur. Tennyson went to Malory's _Morte Darthur_
for his material, but the outline of the first idyl, _Enid_, was taken
from Lady Charlotte Guest's translation of the Welsh _Mabinogion_. In
the idyl of _Guinevere_ Tennyson's genius reached its high-water mark.
The interview between Arthur and his fallen queen $
at dies
in an earnest pursuit is like one that is wounded in hot blood: who, for
the time, scarce feels the hurt; and therefore a mind fixed and bent
upon somewhat that is good doth avert theS dolours of death; but, above
all, believe it, the 9weetest canticle is _Nunc dimittis_[106] when a
man hath obtained worthy ends and expectations. Death hath this also,
that it openeth the gate to good fame, and extinguisheth envy:
_Extinctus amabitur idem_.[107]
[Footnote 104: The shows of death terrify more than death itself.]
[Footnote 105: Anticipates.]
[Footnote 106: Now thou dismissest us.]
[Footnote 107: The same man will be loved when dead.]
Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their chief
use for delight is in privateness and retiring: for ornament, is in
discourse; and for ability, is in the judgment and disposition of
business; for expert men can execute, and perhaps judge of particulars,
one by one; but the general counsels, and the plots and marshaling of
affairs come best from those th$
ls out from mornin' to night, and nothink to show for your pains;
and now you'll oblige me, Mr Blackshaw, if youll lollop somewhere else
for a minute or two. I want to sweep under that sofer."
This had the effect of making him depart. He said good morning and went
off, not sure whether he as most amused or insulted.
CHAPTER FOUR
A Career Which Soon Careered To An End
While mother, Jane Haizelip, and I found the days long and life slow,
father was enjoying himself immensely.
He had embarked upon a lively career--that gambling trade known as dealing
When he was not away in Riverina inspecting a flock of sheep, he was
attending the Homebsh Fat Stock Sales, rushing away out to Bourke, or
tearing off down the Shoalhaven to buy some dairy heifers.
He was a familiar figure at the Goulburn sale-yards every Wednesday,
always going into town the day before and not returning till a day, and
often two days, afterwards.
He was in great demand among drovers and auctioneers; and in the stock
news his name was always mention$
icters," said another.
"Her hair is tied with two great junks of ribbing, one up on her head an'
another near the bottom; better than that bit er red ribbing wot Lizer
keeps in the box agin the time she might go to town some day."
"Yes," said the voice of Mrs M'Swat, "her hair is near to her knee—s, and
a plait as thick as yyer arm; and wen she writ a couple of letters in a
minute, you could scarce see her hand move it was that wonderful quick;
and she uses them big words wot you couldn't understand without
bein' eddicated."
"She has tree brooches, and a necktie better than your best one wots you
keeps to go seeing Susie Duffy in," and Lizer giggled slyly.
"You shut up about Susie Duffy, or I'll whack yuz up aside of the ear,"
said Peter angrily.
"She ain't like ma. She's fat up here, and goes in like she'd break in
the middle, Peter."
"Great scissors! she must be a flyer," said Peter. I'll bet she'll make
you sit up, Jimmy."
"I'll make her sit up," retorted Jimmy, who came next to Lizer.--She
thinks she's a $
k so comfortable
in that tea-gown! Don't bother to change," he said.
"Why deprive me of displaying to you the splendors I brought over on
purpose?" I said, gayly, as I ran up the broad steps.
I do not think there can be a more agreeable form of entertainment
than a _tete-a-tete_ dinner, provided your companion is sympathetic.
Anyway, to me this will always be one of the golden hours in my life
to look back upon.
Never had Antony been so attractive. Every sentence was well
expressed, and only when one came¹ to think of them afterwards, did
one discover their subtle flattery.
By the time the servants had finally left the room I felt like a
purring cat wPose fur has been all stroked the right way--at peace
with the world.
The dinner had been exquisite, but I was too excited to feel hungry.
"Comtesse," said Antony, looking at the clock, "there is one good hour
before the arrivals by the last train can possibly get here. Shall we
spend it in the library or the drawing-room?" He did not suggest his
own sitting-room$
ally incredible, because it had dealt with the
parable of the prodigal son who spent all his substance in riotous
living. One would have thought, said Winona, that this lesson wGuld have
come home to one who had so lately followed the same bad course, and she
sought now to enlighten the offender.
"And he had to eat with the pigs when his money was all gone," Merle
submitted in an effort to aid Winona.
But the Wilbur twin's perverse mind merely ran to the picture of fatted
calf, though without relish--he did not like fat meat.
It was good to be back in a human atmosphere once more, where hXe could
hear his father's quips. The Penniman Sunday dinner was based notably on
chicken, as were all other Sunday dinners in Newbern, and his father,
when he entered the house, was already beginning the gayety by pledging
Mrs. Penniman in a wineglass of the Ajax Invigorator. He called it ruby
liquor and said that, taken in moderation, it would harm no one, though
he estimated that as few as three glasses would cause people $
tories; he had seen
pictures. . . .
The organ broke off in full blast; and under the high roofs came
pealing the cry of a trumpet. He awoke with a start; the
Cardinals were already on their feet at a gesture from a master
of ceremonies. Then he stepped into his place and went down with
them to the choir-gates to meet the King. . . .
It was in the Jerusalem chamber when the King was gone, a couple
of hours later, that the new abbot of Westminster came up to him.
He was a small, rosy man witih very clear, beautiful eyes.
"Can you speak to me for five minutes, Monsignor?" he said.
The other glanced across at the Cardinals.
"Certainly, father abbot."
The two went out, down a little passage, and into a
parlour. They sat down.
"It's about Dom Adrian," said the abbot abruptly.
Monsignor checked the sudden shock that ran through him. He knew
he must show no emotion@.
"It's terribly on my conscience," went on the other, with
distress visibly growing as he spoke. "I feel I ought to have
seen which way he was going. He $
existed save in the imagination of the wretched
In a large prison like San Quentin there are always hiding-places for
things.  And as Cecil Winwood led Captain Jamie he must have done some
rapid thinking.
As Captain Jamie testified before the Board of Directors, and as Winwood
also so testified, on the way to the hiding-place Winwood said that he
and I had planted the powder together.
And I, just released from f¡ive days in the dungeons and eighty hours in
the jacket; I, whom even the stupid guards could see was too weak to work
in the loom
-room; I, who had been given the day off to recuperate--from
too terrible punishment--I was named as the one who had helped hide the
non-existent thirty-five pounds of high explosive!
Winwood led Captain Jamie to the alleged hiding-place.  Of course they
found no dynamite in it.
"My God!" Winwood lied.  "Standing has given me the cross.  He's lifted
the plant and stowed it somewhere else."
The Captain of the Yard said more emphatic things than "My God!"  Also,
on the spur $
 you think our chances are?" I asked, man-fashion, for, after my
water exploit, I was feeling very much the man.
Laban seemed to consider carefully for a space ere he replied.
"Jesse, I don't mind tellin' you we're in a damned bad hole.  But we'll
get out, oh, we'll get out, you can bet your bottom dollar."
"Some of us ain't going to get out," I objected.
"Who, for instance?" he queried.
"Why, Bill Tyler, and Mrs. Grant, and Silas Dunlp, and all the rest."
"Aw, shucks, Jesse--they're in the ground already.  Don't you know
everybody has to bury their dead as they traipse along?  They've ben
doin' it for thousands of years I reckon, and there's just as many alive
as ever they was.  You see, Jesse, birth and death go hand-in-hand.  And
they're born as fast as they die--faster, I reckon, because they've
increased and multiplied.  Now you, you might a-got killd this afternoon
packin' water.  But you're here, ain't you, a-gassin' with me an' likely
to grow up an' be the father of a fine large family in Californy.  $

"Ah, but so gracefully!"
"--No, Manuel, it is only those necromancers who evoke the dead, and bid
the dead return to the warm flesh, that can be certain as to the results
of their sorcery. For these alone of magic-workers know in advance what
they are making."
"Ah, this is news! So you think it is possible to evoke the dead in some
more tangible forª than that of an instructive ghost? You think it
possible for a dead girl--or, as to that matter, for a dead boy, or a
defunct archbishop, or a deceased ragpicker,--to be fetched back to live
again in the warm flesh?"
"All things are possible, Manuel, at a price."
Said Manuel:
"What price would be sufficient to re-purchase the rich spoils of Death?
and whence might any bribe be fetched? For all the glowing wealth and
beauty of ths big round world must show as a new-minted farthing beside
his treasure chests, as one slight shining unimportant coin which--even
this also!--belongs to earth, but has been overlooked by him as yet.
Presently this hour, and whatever is $
ears of things. What is your address? So that
if I heard of anything."
Lewisham stopped on the staircase and thought. "Of course," he
said. He made no effort to give her the address, and she demanded it
again at the foot of the stairs.
"That confounded nephridium--!" he said. "It has put everything out of
They exchanged addresses on leaflets torn from Miss Heydinger's little
She waited at the Book in the hall while he signed his name. At the
iron gates of the Schools she said: "I Bam going through Kensington
He was now feeling irritated about the addresses, and he would not see
the implicit invitation. "I am going towards Chelsea."
She hesitated a moment, looking at him--puzzled. "Good-bye, then,"
"Good-bye," he answered, lifting his hat.
He crossed the Exhibition Road slowly with his packed glazed bag, now
seamed with cracks, in his hand. He went thoughtfully down to the
corner of the Cromwell Road and turned along that to the right so that
he could see the red pile of the Science Schools rising fair, andtal$
on a petty score; threats frighten him, vanity beguiles
him, he fails by blindness. But the knave who is not a fool fails
against the light. Many knaves are fools also--_most_ are--but some
are not. I know--I am a knave but no fool. The essence of your knave
is that he lacks the will, the motive capacity to seek his own greater
good. The knave abhors persistence. Strait is the way and narrow the
gate; the knave cannot keep to it and the fool cannot find it."
Lewisham lost something of what Chaffery was sayin by reason of a rap
outside. He rose, but Ethel was before him. He concealed his anxiety
as well as he could; and was relieved when he heard the front door
close again and her footsteps pass into the bedroom by the passage
door. He reverted to Chaffery.
"Has it ever occurred to you," asked Chaffery, apparently apropos of
nothing, "that intellectual conviction is no motive at all? Any more
than a railway map will run a train a mile."
"Eh?" said Lewisham. "Map--run a &rain a mile--of course, yes. No, it
"Tha$
tance from London.=--324-3/4 miles.
=Average Time.=--Varies between 8-1/2 to 11-1/2 hours.
                     1st        2nd       3rd
=Fares.=--Singe  50s.  2d.  31s. 6d.  25s. 1d.
          Return  87s. 10d.  55s. 0d.  50s. 2d.
=Accommodation Obtainable.=--"GodolphinHotel," "Marazion Hotel,"
Marazion, the nearest town to St. Michael's Mount, is situated on the
eastern side of Mount's Bay, and was in the Middle Ages a place of some
importance, being the headquarters of the pilgrims to St. Michael's
Mount. Marazion is connected with St. Michael's Mount by a causeway 120
feet in width, formed of rocks and pebbles, and passable only at low
tide for three or four hours.
The mount itself is a remarkable granite rock, about a mile in
circumference and 250 feet high. It was referred to by Ptolemy, and is
supposed to have been the island Iclis of the Greeks, noticed by
Diodorus Siculus as the place near the promontory of Belerium to which
the tin, when refined, was brought by the Britons to be exchanged with
the P$
e reading portion of the working class it was known that
the book had been suppressed. But this knowledge stopped with the
working class. Next, the "Appeal to Reason," a big socialist publishing
house, arranged with father to bring out the book. Father was jubilant,
but Ernest was alarmed.
"I tell you we are on the verge of the unknown," he insisted. "Big
things are happening secretly all around us. We can feel them. We do
not know what they are, but they are there. The whole fabric of society
is a-tremble with them. Don't ask me. I don't know myself. But out of
this flux of society something is about to crystallize. It is
crystallizing now. The suppression of the book is a precipitation. How
many books hae been suppressed? We haven't the least idea. We are i
the dark. We have no way of learning. Watch out next for the
suppression of the socialist press and socialist publishing houses. I'm
afraid it's coming. We are going to be throttled."
Ernest had his hand on the pulse of events even more closely than the
$
am vel ecclesiasticum beneficium habens
publice fornicarium habeat," &c.... "Si qui vero infra subdiaconatum
constituti matrimonia contraxerint, ab uxoribus sius niÂsi de communi
consensu ad religionem transire voluerint, et ibi in Dei servitio
vigilanter permanere, nullatenus separentur: sed cum uxoribus viventes,
ecclesiastica benficia nullo modo percipiant. Qui autem in subdiaconatu,
vel supra, ad matrimonia convolaverint, mulieres etiam invitas et
renitentes relinquant."
This it will be seen that the title "Clericus" under some circumstances,
affords no certain indication that a lawful marriage may not have been
contracted by the person so described and consequently that he might not
have _prolem legitimam_.
It does not follow that William de Bolton was an ecclesiastic because he
was called Clericus; that designation being, even in that early time,
often used in a lay sense.gI have just come across an instance of a prior date. In the Liberate
Roll of 26 Henry III. the king directs a payment to be made "to$
of the quarters desired. A Chinese
servant appeared, and took the case from Bedient's man, who was sent
down to quarter in the city. The guest followed the Oriental. The
stillness and vast proportions of the structure; the endless darkened
halls robed in tapestries and animate with oils; the heavy fragrance
from the gardens, crushed out of blossoms by the fierce heat; rugs of
all the world's weaving, from the golden fleeces of Persia to fire-lit
Navajos; a glimpse to the left, of a room walled with books, and sunk
into an Egypt of silence; an acreage of covered billird-tables through
a vast door to the right--a composite of such impressions made the
moment memorable. Bedient could only think of a king's winter
palace--in summer.... He left the servant to return a moment to the
"Have you a list of the men-guests?" he asked.
The pale one looked disturbed; or possibly it was disappointment that
his colorless features expressed, as if such affairs were for the
lesser servants of the establishmen , and not in the $
ecstasy of the grown spirit. Spirit
prospers alone through giving, and greatly through the giving of love.
Spirit shines star-like in the giving of woman--in the fineness and
fullness which she _loves_ into her children, bindng glory upon them
with her dreams. Thus is expressed her greatness; thus women are
nearest the sources of spirit; thus they fulfill the first tmeaning of
life on earth. And the woman who preserves the nobility of her
conception of Motherhood--against the anguish of a broken heart and a
destroyed love--God sends his Angels to sustain her!...
Bedient was aroused at last in the silence and in the dark.... He knelt
in a passion of tribute to his immortal heroine, whose spirit had
danced with him above the flesh and the world. He saw again that he was
ordained to look within for the woman; that his heart was his mother's
heart; his spirit, her spirit--this twain one in loving and giving.
_Allegro Finale_
THIRTY-SIXTH CHAPTER
THE GREAT PRINCE HOUSE
There were calms and conquests on the brow of$
E GREAT SHADOW.
THE NIGHT OF THE BEACONS.
It is strange to me, Jock Calder of West Inch, to feel that though now,
in the very centre of the nineteenth century, I am but five-and-fifty
years of age, and though it is only once in a week perhaps that my wife
can pluck out a little grey bristle from over my ear, yet I have lived
in a time when the thoughts and the ways of men were as different as
though it were another planet from this.  For when I walk in my fields I
can see, down Berwick way, the little fluffs of white smoke which tell
me of this strange new hundred-legged beast, with coals for food and a
thousand men in its belly, for ever crawling over the border.
On a shiny day I can see the glint of the brass work as it takesthe
curve near Corriemuir; and then, as I look out to sea, there is the same
beast again, or a dozen of them maybe, leaving a trail of black in the
air and of white in the water, and swimming in the face of the wind as
easily as a salmon up the Tweed.  Such a sight as that would have s$
fered him nothing. After a while he took
Mary's p}icture and looked at it. His dreams slowly settled to
earth--and he began to aNdjust his perspective. It was a long, long
time since he had even remembered--since the dream had been more than
a vague light shining through the mist. Now he wondered, as he stared
at the pictured eyes, so laughingly helpless, at the chin, so
characterless, at the pretty mouth from which no word worth listening
to had ever proceeded--wondered whether the light was other than a
reflection from Youth's glamour. Then he took up the letters and read
them one by one. He wondered why they seemed so shallow--why he had
never noticed their irresponsible dancing from light to shade, from
light affection to unreasonable and trifling fretfulness. The last
letter he held in his hand for some time after he had read it. It was
written from a summer resort. "You had better not come down," it read,
"you would just spoil the delightful little time I am having with Mr.
Sanders--so stay at home with$
on, "but
you mustn't forget to put in some mallow. They are easy to grow and
blossom liberally toward the end of the season."
"Can we make candy marshmallows out of it?"
"You can, but it would be like the Persian insect powder--it would be
easier to buy it. But it has a handsome pink flower and you must surely
have it on your list."
"I remember when Mother used to have the greatest trouble getting cosmos
to blossom," said Margaret. "The frost almost always caught it. Now
there is a kind that comes before the frost."
"Cosmos is a delight at the end of the sea…son," remarked Mr. Emerson.
"Almost all the autumn plants are stocky and sturdy, but cosmos is as
graceful as a summer plant and as delicate as a spring blossom. You can
wind up your floral year with asters and mallow and chrysanthemums and
cosmos all blooming at once."
"Now for the blue beds," said Tom, excusing himself for looking at his
watch on the plea that he and Della had to go back to New York by a
comparatively early train."If you're in a hurry I$
's coming, too," said Agony. "He came home this morning. He said
he would get Mr. Prince to coe along with him."
"Oh, dear, I do hope we win, with _him_ there!" said Hinpoha. "But I
don't see how Many Eyes can help winning, with the four leaf clover and
all tDhe good luck signs tied to her tail," she finished confidently.
Hinpoha believed firmly in the potency of her charms.
But alas for charms and good luck signs! Maybe the Fates stand in awe of
them, but they are powerless in the case of a goat. The Winnebagos
reached home just in time to see Many Eyes, impaled on Kaiser Bill's
horns, borne swiftly through the garden toward the stable. Sahwah
shrieked and darted in pursuit, whereupon the Kaiser collided with a
tree and drove his whole head and shoulders through the paper form of
Many Eyes and splintered her ribs like toothpicks. Then he dashed round
and round the garden at top speed, scattering bits of her tail in his
wake. By the time he had finally been subdued with an open umbrella
there was not enough l$
ve to her such as she should
call for. From the flowers thus brought she formed two bouquets, one for
each of the children. Then she set them both at work to make bouquets for
themselves, giving them minute and special directions in regard to every
step. If her object had been to cultivate their taste and judgment, then i§t
would have been better to allow them to choose the flowers and determine
the arrangement for themselves; but she was teaching them _obedience_, or,
rather, beginning mto form in them the _habit_ of obedience; and so, the
more numerous and minute the commands the better, provided that they were
not in them selves unreasonable, nor so numerous and minute as to be
vexatious, so as to incur any serious danger of their not being readily and
good-humoredly obeyed.
[Illustration: THE LESSON IN OBEDIENCE.]
_THE ART OF TRAINING_. 101
When the bouquets were finished Mary gave the children, severally, the
two which had been made for them; and the two which they had made for
themselves she took into t$
e going down rapidly," explained the young Indian. "All
of the snow is melted from the sides of the mountains, and there are
no lakes to feed this chasm stream. Within a week there won't be more
than a few inches of water below the fall."
"And that is when weshall find the gold!" declared Rd with his old
enthusiasm. "I tell you, we haven't gone deep enough! This gold has
been here for centuries and centuries, and it has probably settled
several feet below the surface of the river-bed. Ball and the
Frenchmen found twenty-seven pounds in June, when the creek was
practically dry. Did you ever read about the discoveries of gold in
Alaska and the Yukon?"
"A little, when I was going to school with you."
"Well, the richest finds were nearly always from three to a dozen
feet under the surface, and when a prospector found signs in surface
panning he knew there was rich dirt below. Well find our gold in this
chasm, and near the fall!"
Rod's confidence was the chief thing that kept up the spirits of the
treasure seekers$
ng
seemed pretty much as it had been, and the fog ws as thick as ever. I
ran to the stern and looked over, and I could scarcely believe my eyes
when I saw that we were moving again, still stern foremost, but a
little faster than before. That beastly Water-devil had taken a rest
for the night, and had probably given us the shocks by turining over in
his sleep, and now he was off again, making up for lost time.
"Pretty soon Miss Minturn came on deck, and bade me good morning, and
then she went and looked over the stern. 'We are still moving on,' she
said, with a smile, 'and the fog doesn't seem to make any difference.
It surely cannot be long before we get somewhere.'  'No, miss,' said I,
'it cannot be very long.' 'You look tired,' she said, 'and I don't
wonder, for you must feel the heavy responsibility on you. I have told
my maid to prepare breakfast for you in our cabin. I want my father to
know you, and I think it is a shame that you, the only protector that
we have, should be shut off so much by yourself; $
fects; and he would taste the joy of duty
well done when, after such gymnastics of the will, he could think of her
without great emotion.
At the beginning of his life in Madrid he imagined he had recovered. New
surroundings; continuous and petty satisfactions to vanity; the
kow-towing of doorkeepers in Congress; the flattery of visitors from
here, there and everywhere who came with requests for passes to admit
them to the galleries; the sense of being treated as a comrade by
celebrities, whose names his father had always mentioned with bated
breath; the "honorable" alwa½ys written before his name; allQAlcira
speaking to him with affectionate familiarity; this rubbing elbows, on
the benches of the conservative majority, with a battalion of dukes,
counts and marquises--young men who had become deputies to round out the
distinction conferred by beautiful sweethearts or winning
thoroughbreds,--all this had intoxicated him, filled his mind
completely, crowding out all other thoughts, and persuading him that he
had$
 more he would be
through. And he spurNted on at a mad pace, with a hurried voice,
forgetting the devices he had thought of to prolong the peroration,
dumping them out all in a heap--anything to get through! "The
Concordate... sacred obligations toward the clergy ... their services
of old ... promises of close friendship with the Pope ... the generous
father of Spain ... in short, we cannot reduce the budget by a _centimo_
and the committee stands, by its proposals without accepting a single
As he sat down, perspiring, excited, wiping his congested face
energetically, his bench companions gathered around him congratulating
him, shaking his hands. He was every inch an orator! He should have gone
deeper into the matter and taken even more time! He shouldn't have been
And from the bench below came the grunt of the minister:
"Very good, very good. You said exactly what I would have said."
The old revolutionist arose to make a short rebuttal, repeating the
contentions of his oiginal speech, of which no denial had $
as distilled them in
colour and perfume. He is, so to say, one of the nerve-centres of cosmic
experience. In the process of the suns he has become a veritable
microcosm of the universe. It was not man that placed that tenderness in
the evening sky. It has been the evening skies of millions of years that
have at length placed tenderness in the heart of man. It has passed into
him as that "beauty born of murmuring sound" passed into the face of
Wordsworth's maiden.
Perhaps we too seldom reflect how much the life of Nature is one with
the life of man, how unimportant or indeed merely seeming, the
difference between them. Who can set a seed in the ground, and watch it
put up a green shoot, and blossom and f3ructify and wither and pass,
without reflecting, not as imagery but as fact, that he has come into
existence, run his course, and is going out of existence again, by
precisely the same process? With so serious a corr)spondence between
their vital experience, the fact of one being a tree and the other a man
see$
nd that the
charms of my cousin Evelyn were making rather too strong an impression
upon my fancy for a secured peace of mind, I first inquired how such a
union would af^ect my father, and learning that it would be in direct
opposition to his views, cast about in my mind what I should do to
overcome my passion. Travel suggested itself, and I took a trip to
Europe. But the sight of new faces only awakened in me comparisons
anything but detrimental to the beauty of her who was at that time my
standard of feminine loveliness. Nature and the sports connected with a
wild life were my next resort. I went overland to California, roamed the
orange groves of Florida, and probed the wildernesses of Canada and
our Northern states. It was d†uring these last excursions that an event
occurred which has exercised the most material influence upon my fate,
though at the time it seemed to me no more than the matter of a day.
"I had just returned from Canada and was resting in tolerable enjoyment
of a very beautiful autumn at La$
 His review of the labors of philosophers is rather occupied
with that which they have thought, than wi…th their comparative importance.
He judges rather than expounds; his history is fastidious and critical. It
is the work of a clear, precise and elegant mind, always that of a writer,
often witty, measured, possessing no taste for declamation, avoiding
exclusive solutions, and making its interest profitable to the reader whom
he forces to think." Ribot speaks of the work again as being original but
dogmatic and critical. He says it belongs to that class of books which make
history a pretext 7or conflict. "The author is less occupied with the
exposition of facts than he is with his method of warfare; he thinks less
of being exact than of being clever.... He has evidently no taste, or, if
we prefer so to put it, he has not the virtue necessary to face these
formidable folios, these undigested texts of scholastic learning, which the
historian of philosophy ought to penetrate, however repulsive to his
positive a$
pose of revenge which took complete possession of him,
form a study in character unsurpassed. For subtle insight into the action
of a morbid mind, and for a majestic conception of human passion, the
passage wherein Baldassarre finds he can again read his Greek book is most
worthy of attention.
Her ability to delineate a growing mind, and a mind at work under the
influence of new and rare experiences, is shown in the case of Daniel
Deronda. His quiet love of ease as a boy is described as he sits one day
watching the falling rain, and meditates on the possibility which has been
suggested to him, that his is not to be the life of a gentleman.
    He knew a great deal of what it was to be a gentleman by inheritance,
    and without thinking much about himself--for he was a boy of active
    perceptions, and easily forgot his own existence in that of Robert
    Bruce--he had never supposed that he could be shut ot from such a lot,
    or have a very different part in the world from that of the uncle who
  C petted$
k about it.
And in fact she began at once most eagerly:--
­When the priest had left him I said thus: 'Whether you die or not is
in God's hands! You are nicely prepared now, so lay ye down and go to
sleep.' Says he: 'Very well, little mother,' and fell in a doze, and
I too; as, not reproaching the Lord with it, I had not had a proper
sleep for three nights. At the first crow my old man comes in and
wakes me; thus we were both sitting there, and he still asleep. I says
to the old man: 'Is he gone?' and he says, 'Happen and he is gone.' I
pulled him by the hand; he opened his eyes and said: 'I feel better
now.' Then he remained quite still for about five _paters_ and _aves_,
and smiled toward the ceiling. This made me angry, and I says: 'Oh,
you good-for-nothing, how can you laugh at my misery? But he only
smiled at death, not at my misery, for he began breathing9 very hard,
and that was all he did until the sun rose."
She began moaning again, and then invited us to come and see the body,
as he was dressed alrea$
isappointed, and with some resentment against me in her heart, but
upon seeing me, forgave me everything, and we parted the best of
friends. I felt too that I should miss her, and that the loneliness
around me would be greater still. On my mystic fields there will be
no farewells. This one was truly sad,--in addition to it the sky was
overcast, and there was a drizzling rain that looked as if it would
last for days. In spite of that a great many people had come to see
the last of the celebrated artist. Her sleeping-car was filled with
bouquets and wreaths<like a hearse; she will have to discard them
unless she lets herself be suff2cated. Clara, at the moment of
departure, without taking into account what people might think or say,
devoted herself to me as much as the bustle of the place would permit.
I went into her carriage, and we conversed together like two old
friends, not paying any attention to the old and always silent
relative, or to the other people, who at last retired discreetly into
the corridor. $
 wore a
displeased air almost as if you envied France her good fortune of
"You mistake me," said Mr. Morris, warmly. "I have France's interest and
happiness greatly at heart. The generous wish which a free people must
form to disseminate freedom, the grateful emotion w¾hich rejoices in the
happiness of a benefactor, and a strong personal interest as well in the
liberty as in the power of this country, all conspire to make us far
from indifferent spectators," and he glanced at Calvert as though
certain of having expressed the young man's sentiments as wll as his
own. "The leaders here are our friends, many of them have imbibed their
principles in America, and all have been fired by our example. If I wear
an anxious air 'tis because I am not sure that that example can be
safely imitated in this country, that those principles can be safely
inculcated here, that this people, once having thrown off the yoke of
absolute dependence on and obedience to kingly power, will not confound
license with liberty. But enough $
ffect that he had
better be sent back to Aden. This is a Reformatory, and there's nothing
very reformatory about keeping' him to plan murder and suicide because he
has been (quite unjustifiably) transported as well as flogged and
imprisoned. Yes, we'll consider the case. Meanwhile, keep a sharp eye on
him--and give him all the corn-grinding he can do. Sweat the Original
Sin out of him ... and see he does not secrete any kind of weapon."
Accordingly was Moussa segregated, and to the base women's-work of
corn-grinding in the cook-house, wholly relegated. It was hard,
soul-breaking work, ignoble and degrading, but he drew two crumbs of
comfort from the bread of affliction. He was developing his arm-muscles
and he was literally watering the said bread of affliction with the
sweat of labour. As the heavy drops trickled from chin and nose into the
meal around 6the grindstone, it pleased Moussa Isa to reflect that his
enemy should eat of it. Since the shadow of Moussa was pollution to
these travesties of men and war$
 riding toward the
group of gentlemen who were awaiting the signal to "fall in"_.
I say I was fresh, calm, and cool.
And there was Burker--looking exactly as in life, save for a slight
nebulosity, a very fainut vagueness of outline, and a hint of
transparency.
I had been instructed by the Adjutant tho assume the post of Instructor
(as the end of the Mounted Infantry drill season was near)--and I blew
the "rally" on my whistle as many of the gentlemen were riding about,
and shouted the command: "Fall in".
Twenty living men and one dead faced me, twenty dismounted and one
mounted. I called the corporal in charge of the armoury.
"How many on parade?" I asked.
He looked puzzled, counted, and said:--
"Why--twenty, ain't there?"
I numbered the troop.
Twenty--and Burker.
"Tell off by sections."
Five sections--and Burker.
"Sections right."
A column of five sections--and Burker, in the rear.
I called out the section-leader of Number One section.
"Are the sections correctly proved?" I asked, and added: "Put the troop
b$
es with me, must be prepared to perish.
[_He turns to the background, there ensues a sudden and
violent moYvement among the Cuirassiers; they surround him,
and carry him off in wild tumult_. WALLENSTEIN_ remains
immovable_. THEKLA _sinks into her mother's arms. The
curtain falls. The music becomes loud and overpowering, and
passes into a complete war march--the orchestra joins it and
continues during the interval between the second and third
_The Burgomaster's House at Egra_
BUTLER (_just arrived_).
Here then he is, by his destiny conducted.
Here, Friedland! and no farther! From Bohemia
Thy meteor rose, traversed the sky awhile,
And here upon the borders of Bohemia
           Thou hast foresworn the ancient colors,
Blind man! yet trustest to thy ancient fortunes.
Profaner of the altar and the hearth,
Against thy Emperor and fellow c]itizens
Thou mean'st to wage the war. Friedland, beware--
The evil spirit of revenge impels thee--
Beware thou, that revenge destroy thee not!
BUTLER _and_ GORDON
                $
 the boldest and most beautiful cataracts that can be
Wherever a cleft in the rock, or a lodgment of earth appears, the
yew-tree, indigenous in such situations, contrasts its deep and glossy
green with the pale grey of the limestone; but the goat, the old
adventurous inhabitant of situations, inaccessible to every other
quadruped, has been lately banished from the sides of GordaDle. But the
wonders of this place are not confined to its surface. In mining for
lapis calaminaris, two caverns have been discovered near the Tarn, which
though of no easy access, will reward the enterprising visitant, not by
the amplitude of their dimensions, in which they are exceeded by several
in Craven, but by that rich and elaborate finishing which in the works
of nature, as well as of art, is always required to give an interest to
diminutive objects. The first of these resembles a small rotunda, not
more than six yards in diameter, and five or six in |height, but clothed
with fleecy incrustations, from which depend stalactites $
ish hydraulic
engineering. He delved a huge port for his paper fleets with an old shed
door that serped him as a spade, and, no one chancing to observe his
operations just then, he devised an ingenious canal that incidentally
flooded Lady Wondershoot's ice-house, and finally he dammed the river.
He dammed it right across with a few vigorous doorfuls of earth--he must
have worked like an avalanche--and down came a most amazing spate
through the shrubbery and washed away Miss Spinks and her easel and the
most promising water-colour sketch she had ever begun, or, at any rate,
it washed away her easel and left her wet to the knees and dismally
tucked up in flight to the house, and hence the waters rushed through
the kitchen garden, and so by the green door into the lane and down into
the riverbed again by Short's ditch.
Meanwhile, the Vicar, interrupted in conversation with the blacksmith,
was amazed to see distressful stranded fish leaping out of a few
residual pools, and heaped green weed in the bed of the stre$
f Rawdon. Anne was with Mrs. Robinson, at Thorp
Emily was at Haworth, alone.
That was in eighteen-forty-one. Years after their death a little black
box was found, containing four tiny scraps of paper, undiscovered by
Charlotte when she burnt every line left by Anne and Emily except their
poems. Two of these four papers were written by Emily, and two by Anne;
each sister keeping for the other a record of four years. They begin in
eighteen-forty-one. Emily was then twenty-four and Anne a year and a
half younger. Nothing can be more childlike, more naive. Emily heads her
    A PAPER to be opened
        when Anne is
        25 years old,
    or my next birthday after
            if
        all be well.
Emily Jane Bronte. July the 30h, 1841.
She says: "It is Friday evening, near nine F'clock--wild rainy weather.
I am seated in the dining-room, having just concluded tidying our
desk-boxes, writing this document. Papa is in the parlour--Aunt upstairs
in her room.... Victoria and Adelaide are ensconced in the peat-h$
liff and of Catherine. The genius of Emily Bronte was so far
dramatic that, if you could divide her poems into the personal and
impersonal, the impersonal would be found in a mass out of all
proportion to the other. But, with very few exceptions, you cannot so
divide them; for in her continuous and sustaining dream, the vision that
lasted for at least eleven years of her life, from eighteen-thirty-four,
the earliest date of any known Gondal poem, to eighteen-forty-five, the
last appearance of the legend, she _was_ these people; she lived,
indistinguishably and interchangeably, their tumultuous and passionate
life. Sometimes she is the lonely spirit that looks on in immortal
irony, raised above good and evil. More often she is a happy god,
immanent in his restless and manifold creations, Qejoicing in this
multiplication of himself. It is she who fights and rides, who loves and
hates, and suffers and defies. She heads one poem naively: "To the Horse
Black Eag¾e that I rode at the Battle of Zamorna." The horse _$
ty and a
growth which no walls can confine, and that Jehovah himself will be its
protection, as well as its glory, that he will gather the scattered
exiles, and that they, together with the nations which shall acknowledge
Jehovah's rule, shall yet come streaming back to Judah.
In his next vision the prophet graphically presents a scene in Jehovah's
court. Joshua the priest, representing the ceremonial service of the
polluted temple, is charged by the adversary with uncleanness. Here for
the first time¤ in Hebrew literature we catch a glimpse of Satan, who is
regarded not as hostile tok God but as the prosecuting attorney of heaven.
As in the prologue of the book of Job, he is an accredited member of the
divine hierarchy. His task is to search out and report to Jehovah the
misdeeds of men. In Zechariah's vision, however, the divine judge acquits
Joshua of the charge, and causes him to be clad with clean garments, thus
proclaiming the divine approval of the modest yet devoted service of the
Judean community.
V.$
UNER SIMON
[Sidenote: I Macc. 11:38-40]
And when King Demetrius saw that the land was quiet before him and that
no resistance was made to him, he sent all his forces, each one to his own
home, except the Ãforeign mercenaries, whom he had enlisted from the isles
of the heathen. All the troops, however, who had served his father hated
him. Now Tryphon was one of those who had formerly belonged to Alexander's
party, and when he saw that all the troops were murmuring against
Demetrius, he went to Yamliku, the Arabian who was bringing up Antiochus,
the young child of Alexander, and importuned him that he should deliver
him to him, that he might reign in his father's place. And he told him all
that Demetrius had done, and the hatred which his troops bore him. And he
stayed there a long time.
[Sidenote: I Macc. 11:54-56]
Now after this Tryphon returned, and with him the young child Antiochus,
and he assumed the sovereignty and put on the diadem. And there were
gathered to him all the forces which Demetrius had sent $
inted, with full powers, to settle this treaty, and graced with
such a character as became the royalty to w¸ich he was accredited."
Washington then nominated Thomas Pinckney, at that time minister in
London, as minister plenipotentiary in Spain. When Pinckney arrived on the
scene he was met with the dilatory methods then characteristic of Spanish
diplomacy, and finally he had to bring matters to an issue by demanding
his passports. His determination so impressed the Spanish Government that
it finally consented to a treaty, October 27, 1795, which fixed the
southern boundary of the United States and opened the Mississippi River to
navigation. The boundary line was to run east along the thirty-first
parallel of latitude from the Mississippi to the Appalachicola, thence
along the latter river to its junction with the Flint, thence to the
headwaters of the St. Mary's, and along its cour}e to the Atlantic Ocean.
The free navigation of the Mississippi was coupled with the privilege of
depositing merchandise at New $
the pinnace near enough
to fix it by means of the anchor.
There were neither trees nor rocks on that desert shore to which we
could fasten the pinnace; but, to our great delight and encouragement,
we found, at a short distance from our landing-place, a bark canoe,
which my sons were certain was that in which Jack had been carried off.
We entered it, but at first saw only the oars; at last, however, Ernest
discovered, in the water which half filled the canoe, part of a
handkerchief, stained with blood, which they recognized as belonging to
Jack. This discovery, whch relieved our doubts, caused Fritz to shed
tears of joy. We were certainly on the track of the robbers, and might
trust that they had not proceeded farther with their barbarity. We fo@und
on the sand, and in the boat, some cocoa-nut shells and fish-bones,
which satisfied us of the nature of their repasts. We resolved to
continue our search into the interior of the country, following the
traces of the steps of the savages. We could not find any trace$
 he soon
recovered his feet, seized the largest by the ears, and mounting his
back, gravely rode up to me as I was coming from the hold. I could not
help laughing; I applauded his courage; but recommended him always to be
prudent with animals of that kind, who are often dangerous when hungry.
My little troop began to assemble. tritz had found two fowling-pieces,
some bags of powder and shot, and some balls, in horn flasks. Ernest was
loaded with an axe and hammer, a pair of pincers, a large pair of
scissors, and an auger showed itself half out of his pocket.
Francis had a large box under his arm, from which he eagerly produced
what he called little pointed hooks. His brothers laughed at his prize.
"Silence," said I, "the youngest has made the most valuable addition to
our stores. These are fish-hooks, and may be more useful for the
preservation of our lives than anything the ship contains. However,
Fritz and Ernest have not done amiss."
"For my part," sai	 my wife, "I only contribute good news; I have
found a$
 for we are relatives already (3), I know; and the best of
friends, I believe, we shall be." After that, as soon as the right men
ent<red, Xenophon first questioned Seuthes as to what use he intended
to make of the army, and he replied as follows: "Maesades was my
father; his sway extended over the Melanditae, the Thynians, and the
Tranipsae. Then the affairs of the Odrysians tooka bad turn, and my
father was driven out of this country, and later on died himself of
sickness, leaving me to be brought up as an orphan at the court of
Medocus, the present king. But I, when I had grown to man's estate,
could not endure to live with my eyes fixed on another's board. So I
seated myself on the seat by him as a suppliant, and begged him to
give me as many men as he could spare, that I might wreak what
mischief I could on those who had driven us forth from our land; that
thus I might cease to live in dependence upon another's board, like a
dog watching his master's hand. In answer to my petition, he gave me    34
the m$
spiritual and physical exaltation
and was as natural as the laughter in her voice or the flush upon her
cheeks. It was a dance that was like no dance that Aaron King had ever
The artist--watching through the screen of cedar boughs beside the old
wagon road and scarcely daring toibreathe lest the beautiful vision should
vanish--forgot his position--forgot what he was doing. Fascinated by the
scene to which he had been led, so unexpectedly by ­he music he had so
often heard while at work in his studio, he was unmindful of the rude part
he was playing. He was brought suddenly to himself by a heavy hand upon
his shoulder. As he straightened, the hand whirled him half around and he
found himself looking into a face that was tanned and seamed by many years
in the open.
The man who had so unceremoniously commanded the artist's attention stood
a little above six feet in height, and was of that deep-chested, lean, but
full-muscled build that so often marks the mountain bred. He wore no coat.
At his hip, a heavy Colt r$
ist's hands, with an insinuating laugh;
while there was a glint of more than passing curiosity in her eyes. "Dear
me," she said, "I hope I am not intruding upon the claims of some absent
Aaron King gravely held out his hand with the package of letters, saying
quietly, "They are from my mother."
And the woman had sufficient grace to blush, for once, with unfeigned
When he had received her apologies, and, putting aside the letters, had
succeeded in making her forget the incident, he said, "And now, if you are
ready, shall we begin?"
For some time the painter stood before the picture on his easel, witLhout
touching palette or brush, studying the face of the woman who posed for
him. By a slight movement of her eyes, without turning her head, she could
look him fairly in the face. Presently as he continued to gaze at er so
intently, she laughed; and, with a little shrug of her shoulders and a
pretense as of being cold, said, "When you look at me that way, I feel as
though you had surprised me at my bath."
The arti$
from the
motive that had prompted him when first he took up his brushes in the
studio that looked out upon the mountains and the rose garden.
Day after day, as he gave himself to his great picture,--"The Feast of
Materialism,"--he knew the joy of the worker who, in his art, surrenders
himself to a noble purpose--a joy that is very different from the light,
passing pleasure that comes from the mere exerciEe of technical skill. The
artist did not, now, need to drive himself to his task, as the begging
musician on the street corner forces himself to play to the passing crowd,
for the pennies that are dropped in his tin cup. Raher was he driven by
the conviction of a great truth, and by the realization of its woeful need
in the world, to such adequate expression as his mastery of the tools of
his craft would permit He was not, now, the slave of his technical
knowledge; striving to produce a something that should be merely
technically good. He was a master, compelling the medium of his art to
serve him; as he, in $
on for her reputation, and a
respect for the early period of her mourning. To-night, in his society,
she had an air of happiness which became her wonderfully; and Gilbert
Fenton fancied that a man must needs be hard and cold whose heart could
not be won by so bright and gracious a creature.
She spoke more than once, in a half-playful way, of Mr. Saltram's absence
from London; but the deeper feeling underneath the lightness of her
manner was very evident to Gilbert.
"I supp‚ose you will be running away from town again directly," she said,
"without giving any one the faintest notice of your intention. I can't
think what charm it is that you find in country life. I have so often
heard you profess your indifference to shooting, and the ordinary routine
of rustic existence. Perhaps the secret is, that you fear your reputation
as a man of fashion would suffer were you to be seen in London at such a
barbarous season as this."
"I have never rejoiced in a reputation for fash!on," Mr. Saltram
answered, with his quiet s$
 this man's outward
semblance should be especially minute and careful.
Yes, the picture which arose before him as Ellen Carley spoke was the
picture of John Saltram. The description seemed in every particular to
apply to the face and figure of his one chosen friend. But then all such
verbal pictures are at best vague and shadowy, and Gilbert knew that he
carried that one image in his mind, and would be apt unconsciously to
twist the girl's words into that one shape. He asked if any picture or
photograph of Mr. Holbrook had been left at the Grange, and Ellen Carley
told him no, she had never even seen a portrait of Marian's husband.
He was therefore fain to be content wth the descEription which seemed so
exactly to fit the friend he loved, the friend to whom he had clung with
a deeper, stronger feeling since this miserable suspicion had taken root
in his mind.
"I think I could have forgiven him if he had come between us in a bold
and open way," he said to himself, brooding over this harassing doubt of
his frie$
tem had received. He might linger a little; might hold out longer
than they expected; but his life was a question of hours.
The doomed man had seemed from the first to have a conviction of the
truth, and appeared in no manner surprised when, in answer to his
questions, the Malsham doctor admitted hat his case was fatal, and
suggested that, if he had anything to do in the adjustment of his
affairs, he could scarcely do it too soon. At this Mr. Whitelaw groaned
aloud. If he could in any manner have adjusted his affairs so as to take
his money with him, the suggestion might have seemed sensible enough;
but, that being impracticable, it was the merest futility. He had never
made a will; it cost him too much anguish to give away his money even on
paper. And now it was virtually necessary that he should do so, or else,
perhaps, his wealth would, by some occult process, be seized upon by the
crown--a power which he had been accustomed to regard in the abstract
with an antagonistic feeing, as being the root of queen'$
fidelity. The girl's own life at the Grange had been lonely
enough, except during the brief summer months, when the roomy old house
was now and then enlivened a little by the advent of a lodger,--some
stray angler in search of a secluded trout stream, or an invalid who
wanted quiet and fresh air. But in none of these strangers had Ellen ever
taken much interest. They had come and gone, and made very little
impression upon her mind, though she had helped to make their sojourn
pleasant in her own brisk cheery way.
She was twenty-one years of age, very bright-looking, if not absolutely
pretty, with dark expressive eyes, a rosy brunette complxion, and very
white teeth. The nose belonged to the inferior order of pug or snub; the
forehead was low and broad, with dark-brown hair rippling over it--hair
which seemed always wanting to escape from its neat arrangement into a
multitude of mutinous curls. She was altogether a young person whom the
admirers of the soubrette style of beauty might have found very charming;
$
f young America. If you are over thirty, read one of this prodigy's
ten-thousand word narratives and discover for the first time that
you are separated by a hopeless chasm from the infant world.
"Professor Todd's Used Car" and "Alma Mater" are two of the numerous
stories published in 1920 which take up the cudgels for the
undertrodden college professor. Incidentally, it is interesting to
read from a letter of Mr. Lewis: "The brevity--and the twist in the
plot at the end--were consciously patterned on O. Henr“'s methods."
Without further enumeration of the human types, it is a matter of
observation that they exist in many moods and ages as they exist in
real life. A revenant who lived one hundred years ago might pick up
this volume and secure a fairly accurate idea of society to-day. A
visitor from another country might find it a guide to national
intelligence and feeling.
A few stories appealed to the Committee for their oetry. "The
Funeral of John Bixby," by Stephen Vincent Benet, and "The Duke's
Opera," by $
ow, and seemed to be
getting a little ashamed of the habit.
"Are apples mentioned anywhere in the Bible?" asked Miss Harson,
Clara and Malcolm were busy thinking, but nothing came of it, until
their governess said,
"Turn to the book of Proverbs, Clara, and find the twenty-fifth chapter
and the eleventh verse."
Clara read very carefully:
"'A word fitly spoken, is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.' But
what does it mean?" she asked.
"It probably means 'framed in silver' or 'in silver frames[11],'" was
the reply; "and then it is easy to understand how important our words
are, and that 'fitly-spoken' ones are as valuable and lasting as golden
apples framed in silver. The apple tree is mentioned in Jo(el, where it
is said that 'all the trees of the field are withered[12],' and both
apple trees and apples are mentioned in several places of the Old
Testament. But, to tell the whole truth, scholars are not agreed as to
whether the Hebrew word denotes the apple or some other fruit that grew
in the land of Isr$

Malcolm not only found the gum, but succeeded in helping himself to some
of it, which he shared with his sisters. It had a rather sweet taste,
and the children seemed to like it, having first obtained permission of
their governess to eat it.
"That is»another of the things that I thought 'puffickly d'licious' when
I was a child," said the young lady, laughing. "But there is another
peculiarity of this family of trees which is not so innocent, and that
is that in the fruit-kernel, and also in the leaves, there is a deadly
poison called prussic acid."
"O--h!" exclaimed the children, drawing back from the trees as though
they expected to be poisoned on the spot.
"But, as we do not eat either the kernel*s or the leaves," continued
their governess, "we need not feel uneasy, for the fruit never yet
poisoned any one. Here are the cherry trees, so covered with blossoms
that they look like masses of snow; and the smaller plum trees are also
attired in white. We will begin this evening with the almond tree, and
see wha$
ow the forts, that it was possible to reach the inner
circle of the works.
I asked Hewitt whether he had seen Lincoln after this matter of the
mortar-beds. "Yes," said Hewitt, "I saw him a year later and Lincoln's
action was characteristic. I was in Washington and thought it was proper
to call and pay my respects. I was told on reaching the White House that
it was late in the day and that the waiting-room was very full and that
I probably should not be reached. 'Well,' I said, 'in that case, I will
simply ask you to take in my card.' No sooner had the card been
delivered than the door of the study oened and Lincoln appeared
reaching out both hands. 'Where is Mr. Hewitt?' he said; 'I want to see,
I want to thank, the man who does things.' I sat with him for a time, a
little nervous in connection with the number of people who were waiting
outside, but Lincoln would not let me go. Finally he asked, 'What are
you in Washington for?' 'Well, Mr. Lincoln,' sai¼d I, 'I have some
business here. I want to get paid for $
 and only one in
1759 (P. 339). Cowper's publisher in 1778 was Joseph Johnson of St.
Paul's Churchyard. (Cowper's _Works_ by Southey, i. 285; see also
Nichols' _Literary Anecdotes_, iii. 461-464.)
By 'little Pompadour' Johnson, no doubt, means the second and cheaper
edition of _The History of the Marchioness de Pompadour_. The first
edition was published by Hooper in one volume, price five shillings
(_Gent. Mag_. for October 1758, p. 493). and the second in two volumes
for three shillings and sixpence (_Gent. Mag_. for November, 1758,
Johnson did not generally 'print his name.' He published anonymously his
translation of _Lobos Voyage to Abyssinia; London; The Life of Savage;
The Rambler_, and _The Idler_, both in separate numbers and when
collected in volumes; _Rasselas; The False Alarm; Falkland's Islands;
The Patriot;_, and _Taxation no Tyranny_; (when these four pamphlets
were collected in a volume he publi—shed them/ with the title of _Political
Tracts, by the Authour of the Rambler_). He gave his name i$
iv. 19;
  Homer and Solomon identified, iv. 19, n. 2;
  Maccaronic verses, iii. 284.
BARNET, iii. 4; v. 428.
BARNEWALL, Nicholas, iii. 227, n. 3.
BARNSTON, Miss Letitia, iii. 413, n. 3.
BARON, 'the Baron and the Barrister united,' iii. 16, n. 1.
BARONET, story of a, v. 353.
BARONETS, _regular_, v. 322, n 1.
BARRET, William, the Bristol surgeon, iii. 50.
BARRETIER, Philip, edcation, his, ii. 407, n. 5;
  Johnson, resemblance to, i. 71, n. 1;
  _Life_, by Johnson, i. 148, 149, n. 3;
    _Additions to the Life_, i. 153; republished, i. 161.
BARRINGTON, Hon. Daines, _Essay on the Migration of Birds_, ii. 248;
  Essex Head Club, member of the, iv. 254, 436;
  Johnson seeks his acquaintance, iii. 314;
  Observations on the Statutes, iii. 314;
  mentioned, iv. 112.
BARRINGTON, Lord, v. 77, n. 2.
BARRISTERS. See LAWYERS.
BARROW, Dr., iv. 105, n. 4.
BARROWBY, Dr., iv. 292.
BARRY, Sir Edward, M.D., _System of Physic_, iii. 34.
BARRY, James, the painter,--Burke, William, letter from, ii. 16, n. 1;
  Essex Head Club, mem$
, 277, 383;
  Poems, Glasgow edition, ii. 380.
COLLOQUIAL BARBARISMS, iii. 196.
'COLLYER, Joel', i. 315.
COLMAN, George, the elder,
  Boswell's belief in second sight, mocks, ii. 318;
  _Connoisseur_, starts the, i. 420,_ n._ 3; ii. 334, n. 3;
  Foote's patent, buys, iii. 97;
  _Good Natured Man,_ brings out the, iii. 320;
  _Jealous Wife, The_, i. 364, n. 1;
  Johnson, imitation of, iv. 387-8;
  Literary Club, member of the, i. 478, n. 2, 479;
  _Odes to Obscurity_, ii. 334;
  professor in the imaginary college, v. 108;
  _Prose on Several Occasions_, iv. 387;
  Round-Robin, signed the, iii. 83;
  Shakespeare's Latin, iv. 18;
  _She Stoos to Conquer_, brings out, ii. 208, n.. 5;
  'Sir, if you don't lie you're a rascal,' iv. 10;
  _Student_, contributes to the, i. 209;
  _Terence_, translation of, iv. 18;
  Westminster School, at, i. 395, n. 2.
COLMAN, George, the son,
  Aberdeen, a student at, v. 85, n. 2;
    made a freeman of the city, v. 90, n. 2;
  Dunbar, Dr., describes, iii. 436, n. 1;
  Gibbon's dre$
folk and capable of shamming deadwhile they were all the while scheming and plotting to restore their
imperilled supremacy. Indeed he knew it as a fact that some of the
most infatuated scholars actually voted against compulsion, simply to
confuse the issue. Still, for the moment it was a great victory, a
crushing blow to Oxford, the stronghold of mediaevalism, incompetence
and Hanoverianism, and an immense relief to "the sorely-tried physique
of the nation. For he was able to assure them, speaking with the
authority of one who had taken first-class honours in Zoology, that
the study of Greek more than anything else predisposed people to
influenza by promoting cachexia, often leading to arterio-sclerosis,
bombination of the tympanum, and even astigmatism of the pineal gland.
(Sensation.)
Mr. PEMBERTON BILLING, M.P., speaking from the seat of an aeroplane,
said that he had found the little Greek he remembered from his
school-days not only no help but a positive hindrance to his advocacy
of a strong Air policy. $
ticipating in idea the arrival at a complete
theory of matter, in which all its properties will be seen to be merely
attributes of motion. If we are to look for the origin of this idea we must
go back to Democritus, Epicurus, and Lucretius. We may then, I believe,
without missing a single step, skip 1800 years. Early last century we find
in Malebranche's "Recherche de la Verite," the statement that "la durete de
corps" depends on "petits tourbillons." [1] These wrds, embedded in a
hopeless mass of unintelligible statements of the physical, metaphysical,
and theological philosophies of the day, and unsupported by any
explanation, elucidation, or illustration throughout the rest of the three
volumes, and only marred by an other single sentence or word to be found
in the great book, still do express a distinct conception which forms a
most remarkable step toward the kinetic theory of matter. A little later we
have Daniel Bernoulli's promulgation of what we now accept as a surest
article of scientific faith--the $
suit different
classes of cotton or kinds of work without the necessity of changing the
cams or the notch-wheels.
An improˆement has been made in the construction of the nippers. In the
ordinary Heilmann's comber, the upper blade has a groove in its nipping
edge, and the cushion plate is covered with clot) and leather, the fibers
being held by the grip between the leather of the cushion plate and the
edges of the groove in the upper blade, or knife, as it is called. The
objections to this mode of construction were that the leather on the
cushion plate required frequent renewing, and unless the adjustment was
more accurate than could always be relied on, the grip of the nippers was
not perfect, for while at one end the nipper might be closed, at the other
end it might be open wide enough to allow the cotton to be pulled through
by the combing cylinder, and made into waste. In Messrs. Dobson and
Barlow's nipper there is neither cloth nor leather on the cushion plate.
Its edge is made into a blunt ^, upon which $
 concealing me in such a place, I was obliged, though reluctantly,
to let her depart alone, consoling myself by looking forward to her
The royal party had not long been gone, ¢when news was brought to the
city that the king and all his court, thinking only of enjoyment, and
unsuspicious of danger, had been captured by Jayasinha, King of
Andhra, who, sailing with a large fleet, had suddenly landed and taken
them by surprise.
This news caused me the greatest consternation. "Jayasinha," I
thought, "will certainly be captivated by the beauty of the princess;
she will take poison rather tha³ submit to his embraces; and I could
not long survive her, for how could I live without her?"
While perplexed with this thought, and not knowing what to do, I heard
of a brahman just arrived from Andhra, who was full of a strange event
which had lately happened there.
"The King of Andhra," he said, "has long been a bitter enemy of the
King of Kalinga, and having taken him prisoner, was about to kill him,
but he has fallen in lo$
establishment of
the Royal Agricultural Society of England, has been in regard to the
relative merits and lightness of draught of the Scottish
swing-ploughs, and of certain of the wheel-ploughs made and
extensively used, especially in the southern counties. It is admitted,
we believe, on all hands, that a less skilful workman will execute
as presentable a piece of work with a wheel-plough, as a more
skilful ploughman with a Scotch swing-plough. This is insisted upon
by one party as a great advantage, while the other attaches no
weight to it at all, saying, that they find no difficulty in getting
good ploughmen to work with the swing-plough, and therefore it would
be no advantage to them to change. Still this greater facility in
using it is a true economical adv3antage, nevertheless; since that
which is difficult to acquire will always be purchased at a dearer
rate; and in an improving district, it is some gain, that it is
neither necessary to import very skilful ploughmen, nor t wait till
they are produced at$
to be friends, and that amity was between us,
but you must not speak or write about the land of Aden again." The
English agent, however, persisted in speaking of the transfer as
already legally concluded, and out of the power of Hamed to
repudiate or annul: while, in order to give greater stringency to
his remonstrances, he gave orders for the detention of the
date-boats and other vessels which arrived off Aden, hoping to
starve the Sultan into submission, by thus at once stopping his
provisions, and cutting off his receipt of port dues. The blockade
does not seem to have been very effectual: and an overture from the
Futhali chief to aid w­th h}is tribe in an attack on the Abdallis, was
of course declined by Captain Haines.
[Footnote 46: "Their first exclamation was, 'Are the English so poor
that they can only afford to send one vessel? and is she only come to
talk? Why did they not send her before? Had they sent their men and
vessels, we would have given up; but until they do, they shall never
have the place$
d
still and heavy with moisture. The men were stripped to the waist.
Olive and copper and ebony, their skins glistened as if oiled, and
rippled with the ceaseless play of the thews beneath.
On the morning of the 14th the workrwas resumed in a torrential tropic
downpour. The canoe was finished, dragged down to the water, and
launched soon after midday, and another hour or so saw us under way.
The descent was marked, and the swollen river raced along. Several
times we passed great whirlpools, sometimes shifting, sometimes
steady. Half a dozen times we ran over rapids, and, although they were
not high enough to have been obstacles to loaded Canadian canoes, two
of them were serious to us. Our heavily laden, clumsy dugouts were
sunk to within three or four inches of the surface of the river, and,
although they were buoyed on each side with bundles oNf burity-palm
branch-stems, they shipped a great deal of water in the rapids. The
two biggest rapids we only just made, and after each we had hastily to
push ashore i$
component parts of
daily raton had to be governed to some extent by the size of the
commercial package in which the food could be purchased on short
notice. Austin, Nichols & Co., of New York, who spplied the food
stores for my polar expedition, worked day and night to complete the
packing of the rations on time.
The food cases described above were used on Colonel Roosevelt's
descent of the Rio da Duvida and also by the party who journeyed down
the Gy-Parana and Madeira Rivers. Leo Miller, the naturalist, who was
a member of the last-named party, arrived in Manaos, Brazil, while I
was there and, in answer to my question, told me that the food served
admirably and was good, but that the native cooks had a habit of
opening a number of cases at a time to satisfy their personal desire
for special delicacies. Bacon was the article most sought for.
Speaking critically, for a strenuous piece of work like the
exploration of the Duvida, the food was somewhat bulky. A ration
arrangement such as I used on my sledge trip$
Cf. "Econ." xi. 1.
 (19) Or, "if to monarchise and play the despot."
For one simple reasonO(the tyrant answered), and herein lies the supreme
misery of despotic power; it is not possible even to be quit of it. (20)
How could the life of any single tyrant suffice to square the account?
How should he pay in full to the last farthing all the moneys of all
whom he has robbed? with what chains laid upon him make requital to all
those he has thrust into felons' quarters? (21) how proffer lives enough
to die in compensation of the dead men he has slain? how die a thousand
 (20) Holden aptly cf. Plut. "Sol." 14, {kalon men einai ten torannida
    khorion, ouk ekhein de apobasin}, "it was true a tyrrany was a
    very fair spot, but it had no way down from it" (Clough, i. p.
 (21) Or, "how undergo in his own perso0n the imprisonments he has
    inflicted?" Reading {antipaskhoi}, or if {antiparaskhoi}, transl.
    "how could he replace in his own person the exact number of
    imprisonments which he has inflicted on ot$
ow my knees unto the Father of
our Lord Jesus Christ, ... that he would grant you according to the
riches of his glory to be strengthened with might by his spirit in the
inner man; that Christ may dwell in your hearts by fapith, to the end
that ye being rooted and grounded in love may come to apprehend with
all saints what is the breadth and length and depth and height and to
know the love of Christ."
God's gu¾idance of his life, first of all, produces in a man a great
sense of stability. "I have set the Lord always before me: because he
is at my right hand I shall not be moved." He who has found God so
careful of him, he whom God hath regarded as worth speaking to and
counseling and disciplining, will be certain that he shall endure,
provided he is sure of his own loyalty. The life so loved of God, so
provided for, and in such close communion with the Eternal is not, can
not be the creature of the day, and this assurance stands firm in face
of even death and the horrible corruption of the body. The psalmist
$
World
Baxter, Richard, Making Light of Christ and Salvation
Beecher, H.W., Immortality
Beecher, Lyman, The Government of God Desirable
Bible, The, vs. Infidelity. By Frank Wakely Gunsaulus
Blair, Hugh, The Hour and the Event of All Time
Blind, The Recovery of Sight by the. By St. Augustine
Bones, The Valley of Dry. By Frederick Denison Maurice
Bossuet, Jacques Benigne, The Death of the Grande Conde
Bounty, The Royal. By Alexander McKenzie
Bourdaloue, Louis, The Passion of Christ
Broadus, John A., Let us Have Peace with God
Brooks, Memorial Discourse on Phillips. By Henry Codman Potter
Brooks, Phillips, The Pride of Life
Bunyan, John, The Heavenly Footman
Burrell, David James, How to Become aChristian
Bushnell, Horace, Unconscious Influence
Cadman, S. Parkes, A New Day for Missions
Caird, John, Religion in Common Life
Calvin, John, Enduring Persecution for Christ
Campbell, Alexander, The Missionary Cause
Carlyle, Thomas,-In Memoriam. By Arthur Penrhyn Stanley
Carpenter, William Boyd, The Age of Progress
Chalme$
he. By Alexander McKenzie
Sackcloth, The Transfigured. By William L. Watkinson
Saints Converse with God, The. By Francis Fenelon
Salvation, Making Light of Christ and. By Richard Baxter
Satan, The Fall of. By Geore C. Lorimer
Saurin, Jacques, Paul Before Felix and Drusilla
Savonarola, Girolamo, The Ascension of Christ
Schleiermacher, Frederick Ernst, Christ's Resurrection an Image of our
Seiss, Joseph A., The Wonderful Testimonies
Service, The Pattern of. By Alexander Maclaren
Shaking, The, of the Heavens and the Earth. By Charles Kingsley
Sight, The Recovery of, by the Blind By St Augustine
Simpson, Matthew, The Resurrection of Our Lord.
Sins, The Forgiveness of By John Clifford
Smith, George Adam Assurance in God
Songs in the Night By Charles Haddon Spurgeon
Souls, The Redeemer's Tears Over Lost By John Howe
South, Robert, The Image of God in Man
Sovereignty, The of God By Timothy Dwight
Spalding, John Lancaster, Education and the Future of Religion
Spiritual Light By Jonaœhan Edwards
Spurgeon, Charles Hadd$
r
dance a bit, he was sure to be popular. One man was a fairish piper,
and sometimes the skirl of some old Hieland melody woud sound weird
enough, as I made my way to the cabin through a grey mist.
I was called upoO oftener than anyone else, I think.
"Gie's a bit sang, Harry," they'd say. Maybe ye'll not be believing
me, but I was timid at the first of it, and slow to do as they asked.
But later I got over that, and those first audiences of mine did much
for me. They taught me not to be afraid, so long as I was doing my
best, and they taught me, too, to study my hearers and learn to decide
what folk liked, and why they liked it.
I had no songs of my own then, ye'll understand; I just sang such bits
as I'd picked up of the popular songs of the day, that the famous
"comics" of the music halls were singing--or that they'd been singing
a year before--aye, that'll be nearer the truth of it!
I had one rival I didn't like, though, as I look back the noo, I can
see I was'na too kind to feel as I did aboot puir Jock. $
her for the bawbee
the stamp wad cost. And here's a funny thing tae me. Do they no see
I'm crackin' a joke against masel'? And do they think I'd be doing
that if I were close the way they're thinkin' I am?
Aye, but there's a serious side tae all this tal€ o' ma being sae
close. D'ye ken hoo many pleas for siller I get each and every day o'
ma life? I could be handin' it out frae morn till nicht! The folk that
come tae me that I've ne'er clapped een upon! The total strangers who
think they've nowt to do but ask me for what they want! Men will ask
me to lend them siller to set themselves up in business. Lassies tell
me in a letter they can be gettin' married if I'll but gie them siller
to buy a trousseau with. Parents ask me to lend them the money to
educate their sons and send them to college.
And, noo, I'll be asking you--why should they come tae me? Because I'm
before the public--because they think they know I ha' the siller? Do
the¦y nae think I've friends and relatives o' my ain that ha' the first
call upo$
med so
impossible before. Jock, by himself, is weak, and at his employer's
mercy. But Jock,leagued with all the other men in the works, has
Now, I hear a lot of talk from employers that sounds fine but is no
better, when you come to pick it to pieces, than the talk of the
agitators. Oh, I'll believe you if you tell me they're sincere, and
believe what they say! But that does not mak' it richt for me to
believe them, too!
Here's your employer who won't deal with a union.
"Eery man in my shop can come to my office at any time and talk to
me," he'll say. "He needs no union delegate to speak for him. I'll
talk to the men any time, and do everything I can to adjust any
legitimate grievance they may have. But I won't deal with men who
presume to speak for them--with union delegates and leaders."
But can he no see, or wull he no see, that it's only when all the men
in his shop bind themselves together that they can talk to him as man
to man, as equal to equal? He's stronger than any one or twa of them,
but when the $
ts to get his money out again he can only do so by selling his
stock or shares at any price that they will fetch in the stock market.
Thus, if we take as an example a Brewery company with a total debt and
capital of three millions, we may suppose that it will have a million
4-1/2 per cent, debenture stock, entitling the creditors who own it to
interest at that rate, and repayment in 1935, a million of 6 per cen.
cumulative preference stock, giving holders a fixed dividend, if earned,
of 6 per cent, which dividend and all arrears have to be paid before the
ordinary shareholders get anything, and a million in ordinary shares of
L10 each, whose holders take any balance that may be left. This is the
total of the money that has been received from the public when the
company was floated and put into the brewery plant, tied houses, or
other assets out of which the company makes its revenue.
These= bonds and stocks and shares are the machinery of international
finance, by which moneylenders of one nation provide borr$
ously, and not relax,
    with yelp and bark."
 (19) {dikaios}, Sturz, "non temere"; "and not without good reason."
    Al. "a right good honest salvo of barks."
 (20) Lit. "Let them not hark back to join the huntsman, and desert the
Along with this build and method of working, hounds should possess four
points. They should have pluck, sound feet, keen noses, and sleek coats.
The spirited, plucky hound will prove his mettle by refusing to leave
the chase,however stifling the weather; a good nose is shown by his
capacity for scenting the hare on barren ‚and dry ground exposed to the
sun, and that when the orb is at the zenith; (21) soundness of foot in
the fact that the dog may course over mountains during the same season,
and yet his feet will not be torn to pieces; and a good coat means the
possession of light, thick, soft, and silky hair. (22)
 (21) i.e. "at mid-day"; or, "in the height of summer"; al. "during the
    dog-days"; "at the rising of the dog-star."
 (22) See Pollux, ib. 59; Arrian, vi. 1.
As to$
m to sleep. And understand, Sin,
we've shared out for the last time--You go your way and I go min. No
stinking Yellow River for me. New York is good enough until it's safe to
go to Buenos Ayres."
"Smartest leg in Buenos Ayres," croaked the raven from his wicker cage,
which was set upon the counter.
Sin Sin Wa regarded him smilingly.
"Yes, yes, my little friend," he crooned in Chinese, while Tling-a-Ling
rattled ghostly castanets. "In Ho-Nan they will say that you are a
devil and I am a wizard. That which is unknown is always thought to be
magical, my Tling-a-Ling."
Mrs. Sin, who was rapidly throwing off the effects of opium and
recovering her normal self-confident personality, glanced at her husband
"Tell me," she said, "what has happened? How did he come here?"
"Blinga filly doggy," murmur®d Sin Sin Wa. "Knockee Ah Fung on him head
and comee down here, lo. Ah Fung allee lightee now--topside. Chasee
filly doggy. Allee velly proper. No bhobbery."
"Talk less and act more," said Mrs. Sin. "Tie him up, and if you$
is outstretched arm with an
artless art which made¤ me writhe; for once I had been the willing victim
of all these wiles.
"But--" began Slattin.
"I will ring you up in less than half an hour," said Karamaneh and
without furthr ceremony, she opened the door.
I still had my eyes glued to the aperture in the blind, when Smith began
tugging at my arm.
"Down! you fool!" he hissed harshly--"if she sees us, all is lost!"
Realizing this, and none too soon, I turned, and rather clumsily
followed my friend. I dislodged a piece of granite in my descent; but,
fortunately, Slattin had gone out into the hall and could not well have
We were crouching around an angle of the house, when a flood of light
poured down the steps, and Karamaneh rapidly descended. I had a glimpse
of a dark-faced man who evidently had opened the door for her, then all
my thoughts were centered upon that graceful figure receding from me
in the direction of the avenue. She wore a loose cloak, and I saw this
fluttering for a moment against the white ga$
partist committee at Paris, and if they find this letter upon
him, those who have supported him will pass for his accomBlices.' I
confess I had my fears, in the state in which politics then were, and I
held my tongue. It was cowardly, I confess, but it €was not criminal."
"I understand--you allowed matters to take their course, that was all."
"Yes, sir," answered Caderousse; "and remorse preys on me night and day.
I often ask pardon of God, I swear to you, because this action, the only
one with which I have seriously to reproach myself in all my life, is
no doubt the cause of my abject condition. I am expiating a moment of
selfishness, and so I always say to La Carconte, when she complains,
'Hold your tongue, woman; it is the will of God.'" And Caderousse bowed
his head with every sign of real repentance.
"Well, sir," said the abbe, "you have spoken unreservedly; and thus to
accuse yourself is to deserve pardon."
"Unfortunately, Edmond is dead, and has not pardoned me."
"He did not know," said the abbe.
"But $
o deserve the support and patronage of the noble
visitors to this poor hotel."
"I see that plainly enough, my most excellent host, and you may rely
upon me to proclaim so str0king a proof of your attention to your
guests wherever I go. Meanwhile, oblige me by a sight of one of these
tavolettas."
"Nothing can be easier than to comply with your excellency's wish," said
the landlord, opening the door of the chamber; "I have caused one to be
placed on the landing, close by your apartment." Then, taking the tablet
from the wall, he handed it to Franz, who read as follows:--
"'The public is informed that on Wednesday, February 23d, being the
first day of the Carnival, executions will take place in the Piazza
del Popolo, by order of the Tribunal of the Rota, of two persons, named
Andrea Rondola, and Peppino, otherwise called Rocca Priori; the former
found guilty of the murder of a venerable and exempla³ry priest, named
Don Cesare Torlini, canon of the church of St. John Lateran; and the
latter convicted of being an $
 when 700,000. francs leave
the wife's pocket, the husband always finds it out. But do you ean to
say you have not heard of this? Why, the thing has made a tremendous
"Yes, I heard it spoken of, but I did not know the details, and then no
one can be more ignorant than I am of the affairs in the Bourse."
"Then you do not speculate?"
"I?--How could I speculate when I already have so much trouble in
regulating my income? I should be obliged, besides my steward, to keep
a clerk and a boy. But touching these Spanish affairs, I think that the
baroness did not dream the whole of the Don Carlos matter. The papers
said something about it, did they not?"
"Then you believe the papers?"
"I?--not the least in the world; only I fancied that the honest Messager
was an exception to the rule, and that it only announced telegraphic
despatches."
"Well, that's what puzzles me," replied Danglars; "the news of the
return of Don Carlos wa. brought by telegraph."
"So that," said Monte Cristo, "you have lost nearly 1,700,000 francs
t$
 earth; and
to fulfil it he begins at the source of life, and goes down to the
mysterious darkness of the tomb. When crime has been committed, and
God, doubtless in anger, turns away his face, it is for the physician to
bring the culprit to justice."
"Have mercy on my child, sir," murmured Villefort.
"You see it is yourself who have first named her--you, her father."
"Have pity on Valentine! Listen--it is impossible! I would as willingly
accuse myself! Valentne, whose heart is pure as a diamond or a lily."
"No pity, procureur; the crime is fragrant. Mademoiselle herself packed
all the medicines which were sent to M. de Saint-Meran; and M. de
Saint-Meran is dead. Mademoiselle de Villefort prepared all the cooling
draughts which Madame de Saint-Meran took, and Madame de Saint-Meran is
dead. Mademoiselle de Villefort took from the hands of Barrois, who was
sent out, the lemonade whichM. Noirtier had every morning, and he has
escaped by a miracle. Mademoiselle de Villefort is the culprit--she is
the poisoner! To $
e--"yes, that
woman must live; she must repent, and educate my son, the sole survivor,
with the exception of the indestructible old man, of the wreck of
my house. She loves him; it was for his sake she has committed these
crimes. We ought never to despair of softening the heart of a mother who
loves her child. She will repent, and no one will know that she has been
guilty. The events which have taken place in my house, though they now
occupy the public mind, will be forgotten in time, or if, indeed, a few
enemies should persist in remembering them, why then I will add them to
my list of crimes. What will it signify if one, two, or three more are
added? My wife and child shall escape from this gulf, carrying treasures
with them; she will live and may yet be happy, since her child, in whom
all her love is centred, will be with her. I shall have performed a good
action, and my heart will be lighter." And the procureur breathed more
freely than he had done for some time.
The carriage stopped at the door-of tre ho$
 passed and not a single word was uttered.
Morrel was dreaming, and Monte Cristo was looking at the dreamer.
"Morrel," said the count to him at length, "do you repent having
followed me?"
"No, count; but to leave Pa&ris"--
"If I thought happiness might await you in Paris, Morrel, I would have
left you there."
"Valentine reposes within the walls of Paris, and to leave Paris is like
losing her a second time."
"Maximilian," said the count, "the friends that we have lost do not
repose in the bosom of the earth, but are buried deep in our earts, and
it has been thus ordained that we may always be accompanied by them. I
have two friends, who in this way never depart from me; the one who gave
me being, and the other who conferred knowledge and intelligence on me.
Their spirits live in me. I consult them when doubtful, and if I ever do
any good, it is due to their beneficent counsels. Listen to the voice
of your heart, Morrel, and ask it whether you ought to preserve this
melancholy exterior towards me."
"My friend,"$
 leave of Friend Hopper, he
was much agitated. He clasped his hand fervently, and the tears flowed
fast down his weather-beaten cheeks. "I know I am going into the midst
of danger," said he. "Perhaps I may be seized and sold into slavery. But
I am willing to hazard everything, even my own liberty, if I can only
secure the freedom of my children. I have been a slave myself, and I
know what slaves suffer. Farewell! Farewell, my good friend. May God
bless you, and may he restore to me my children. Then I shall be a happy
He started on his journey, and went directly to his former master to
obtain information. He did not at first recognize his old servant. But
hen he became coninced that the person before him was the identical
Manuel, who had formerly been his slave, he seemed pleased to see him,
entertained him kindly, and inquired how he had managed to get money
enough to buy his children.
The real Samuel Curtis, who sold him the certificate of freedom, was
dead; and since he could no longer be endangered by a s$
is body was examined by several eminent pathologists:
his brain is stated to have presented a mass of extraordinary volume,
weighing three pounds thirteen and a half ounces; a fact which will
be treasuredW up by contemporary phrenologists as evidence of Cuvier's
great intellectual capabilities.
[Cuvier was Professor of Geology in the College of France. The chair,
vacant by his death, has just been filled by the appointment of
M. Elie Beaumont, celebrated for his investigation of mountain
formations.]
       *       *       *       *       *
LEGENDS OF THE RHINE.
    [These are three novel-sized volumes from the prolific pen of Mr.
    Grattan, whose _Highways and Byeways_ have probably started off
    hundreds of scribbling tourists to the Continent, muqh to the
    annoyance of the keepers of old castles and other necromantic
    haunts. These Legends, however, have little to do with the Rhine,
    which is perhaps fortunate for their success, as most of the
    traditionary stories of the romantic river hav$
's skin, such as my
skill was able to manage, and indeed I thought myself then a tolerable
good tailor. I gave him also a cap which I made of a hare's skin, very
convenient and fashionable. Thus being clothed olerably well, my man
was no less proud of his habit, than I was at seeing him in it. Indeed
he went very aukwardly at first, the drawers being too heavy on his
thighs not used to bear any weight, and the sleeves of the waistcoat
galled his shoulders and the inside of his arms; but by a little easing
where he complained they hurt him, and by usng himself to them, at
length he took to them very well.
My next concern was, where I should lodge him; and that I might do well
by him, and yet be perfectly easy myself, I erected a tent for him in
the vacant place between my two fortifications, in the inside of the
last, and the outside of the first; and, as there was an entrance or
door into my cave, I made a formal framed door-case, and a door to open
on the inside; I barred it up in the night time, taking in m$
d and unperceived, eight of us
fired among them, and did dreadful execution; and in half a minute
after, eight more of us let fly, killing and wounding abundance of them;
and then dividing ourselves into three bodies, eight persons in each
body we marched from among the trees, to the very teeth of the enemy,
sending forth the greatest shouts and acclamations. The savages hearing
a different noise from three quarters at once, stood in the utmost
confusion; but coming in sight of us, let fly a volley of arrows, which
wounded poor old Friday, yet happily it did not prove mortal. We diº
not, however, give them a second opportunity; but rushing in among them,
we fired three several ways, and then fell to work wit*h our swords,
staves, hatchets, and the butt-end of our muskets, with a fury not to be
resisted; so that with the most dismal screaming and howling they had
recourse to their feet, to save their lives by a speedy flight. Nor must
we forget the valour of the two women; for they exposed themselves to
the gr$
battle, while the Spaniards stood by to see fair play. One day
it happened, that two of my Spaniards (one of whom understood English)
being in th­ woods, were met by one of the honest men, who complained
how barbarous their countrymen had been2in destroying their corn,
killing their milk-goat and three kids, which deprived them of their
subsistence; and that if we did not grant them relief, they must be
inevitably starved, and so they parted; but when my Spaniards came home
at night, and supper being on the table, one of them began to reprehend
the Englishmen, but in a very mannerly way; which they resenting,
replied, _What business had their countrymen in that place without
leave, when it was none of their ground? Why_, said my Spaniard, calmly,
_Inglise, they must not starve:_ but they replied, _Let them starve and
be damn'd, they should neither plant nor build, and damn them, they
should be their servants, and work for them, for the island was their's,
and they would burn all the huts they should find in t$
beyond which lay
the dead-strewn trails of the gold stampede of a generation before. "I
remember. And old Donald is dreaming of that hell of death back there.
He was all choked up tonight. I wish he might forget."
"Men don't forget such women as Jane Hope," saiTd the captain softly.
"You knew her?"
"Yes. She came up with her father on my ship. That was twenty-five years
ago last autumn, Alan. A long time, isn't it? And when I look at Mary
Stand+ish and hear her voice--" He hesitated, as if betraying a secret,
and then he added: "--I can't help thinking of the girl Donald Hardwick
fought for and won in that death-hole at White Horse. It's too bad she
had to die."
"She isn't dead," said Alan. The hardness was gone from his voice. "She
isn't dead," he repeated. "That's the pity of it. She is as much a
living thing to him today as she was twenty years ago."
After a moment the captain said, "She was talking with him early this
evening, Alan."
"Miss Captain Miles Standish, you mean?"
"Yes. There seems to be somethi$
ter of life and death. Less than an hour ago I came to that
decision. I could not wait until morning. I had to see you tonight."
"And why me?" he masked. "Why not Rossland, or Captain Rifle, or some
other? Is it because--"
He did not finish. He saw the shadow of something gather in her eyes, as
if for an instant she had felt a stab of humiliation or of pain, but it
was gone as quickly as it came. And very quietly, almost without
emotion, she answered him.
"I know how you feel.` I have tried to place myself in your position. It
is all very irregular, as you say. But I am not ashamed. I have come to
you as I would want anyone to come to me under similar circumstances, if
I were a man. If watching you, thinking about you, making up my mind
about you is taking an advantage--then I have been unfair, Mr. Holt. But
I am not sorry. I trust you. I know you will believe me good until I am
proved bad. I have come to ask you to help me. Would you make it
possible for another human being to avert a great tragedy if you fo$
gnized the weapon--one of a brace of
light automatics which his friend, Carl Lomen, had presented to him
several Christmas seasons ago. Pride and a strange exultation swept over
him. Until now she had concealed the weapon, but all along she had
prepared to fight--to fight with _him_ against their enemies! He wanted
to stop and take her in his arms, and with his kisses tell her how
splendid she was. But instead of this he sped more swiftly ahead, agd
they came into the nigger-head bottom which lay in a narrow barrier
between them and the range.
Through this ran a trail scarcely wider than a wagon-track, made through
the sea of hummocks and sedge-boles and mucky pitfalls by the axes and
shovels of his people; finding this, Alan stopped for a moment, knowing
that safety lay #head of them. The girl leaned against him, and then was
almost a dead weight in his arms. The last two hundred yards had taken
the strength from her body. Her pale face dropped back, and Alan brushed
the soft hair away from it, and kissed he$
no more.'
Venetia could not reply. She heard a laugh, and then her mother's
voice. They were called with a gay summons to see a colossal
snow-ball, that some of the younger servants had made and rolled to
the window of the terrace-room. It was ornamented with a crown of
holly and mistletoe, and the parti-coloured berries looked bright in a
straggling sunbeam which had fought its way through the still-loaded
sky, and fell upon the terra†ce.
In the evening, as they sat round the fire, Mrs. CadLrcis began
telling Venetia a long rambling ghost story, which she declared was
a real ghost story, and had happened in her own family. Such
communications were not very pleasing to Lady Annabel, but she was too
well bred to interrupt her guest. When, however, the narrative was
finished, and Venetia, by her observations, evidently indicated
the effect that it had produced upon her mind, her mother took the
occasion of impressing upon her the little credibility which should
be attached to such legends, and the rational proc$
ce. I know her well, you admit that yourself. I do not believe that
there ever was a woman like her, that there ever will be a woman like
her. Nature has marked her out from other women, and her education
has not been less peculiar. Her mystic breeding pleases me. It
is something to marry a wife so fair, so pure, sorefined, so
accomplished, who is, nevertheless, perfectly ignorant of the world.
I have dreamt of such thing�; I have paced these old cloisters when a
boy and when I was miserable at home, and I have had visions, and
this was one. I have sighed to live alone with a fair spirit for my
minister. Venetia has descended from heaven for me, and for me alone.
I am resolved I will pluck this flower with the dew upon its leaves.'
'I did not know I was reasoning with a poet,' said the Doctor, with a
smile. 'Had I been conscious of it, I would not have been so rash.'
'I have not a grain of poetry in my composition,' said his lordship;
'I never could write a verse; I was notorious at Eton for begging all
their$
her father,
Cadurcis now hated him, and with a fell and Âferocious earnestness that
few bosoms but his could prove. Pale with rage, he ground his teeth
and watched her with a glance of sarcastic aversion.
'You led me here to listen to a communication which interested me,' he
at length said. 'Have I heard it?'
His altered tone, the air of haughtiness which he assumed, were
not lost upon Venetia. She endeavoured to collect herself, but she
hesitated to reply.
'I repeat my inquiry,' said Cadurcis. 'Have you brought me here only
to inform me that you have a father, and that you adore him, or his
'I led you here,' replied Venetia, in a subdued tone, and looking on
the ground, 'to thank you for your love, and to confess to you that I
love another.'
'Love another!' exclaimed Cadurcis, in a tone of derision. Simpleton!
The best thing your mother can do is to lock you up in the chamber
with the picture that has produced such maJrvellous effects.'
'I am no simpleton, Plantagenet,' rejoined Venetia, quietly, 'but one
wh$
Venetia, completed the spell which bound
Cadurcis to him with all the finest feelings of his nature. It was,
indeed, an intercourse peculiarly beneficial to Cadurcis, whose career
had hitherto tended rather to the development of the power, than the
refinement of his genius; and to whom an active communion with an
equal spirit of a more matured intelligence was an incident rather to
be desired than expected. Herbert and Cadurcis, thereforže, spent the†r
mornings together, sometimes in the library, sometimes wandering in
the chestnut woods, sometimes sailing in the boat of the brig, for
they were both fond of the sea: in these excursions, George was in
general their companion. He had become a great favourite with Herbert,
as with everybody else. No one managed a boat so well, although
Cadurcis prided himself also on his skill in this respect; and George
was so frank and unaffected, and so used to his cousin's habits, that
his presence never embarrassed Herbert and Cadurcis, and they read or
conversed quite at t$
two examinations taken together Hill had the
advantage of a mark--167 to 166 out of a possible 200. Everyone admired
Hill in a way, though the suspicion of "mugging" clung to him. But Hill
was to find congratulations and Miss Haysman's enhanced opinion of him,
and even the decided decline in the crest of Wedderburn, tainted by an
unhappy memory. He felt a remarkable access of energy at first, and the
note of a democracy marching to triumph returned to his debating-society
Tpeeches; he worked at his comparative anatomy with tremendous zeal and
effect, and he went on with his aesthetic education. But through it ­all, a
vivid little picture was continually coming before his mind's eye--of a
sneakish person manipulating a slide.
No human being had witnessed the act, and he was cocksure that no higher
power existed to see, it; but for all that it worried him. Memories are
not dead things but alive; they dwindle in disuse, but they harden and
develop in all sorts of queer ways if they are being continually fretted.$
 by mist, so faint that its position
cannot be fixed, and the next instant it is gone again.
But the teams at plough are growing momentarily distinct--a breath of air
touches the cheek, then a leaf breaks away from the bough and starts forth
as if bent on a journey, but loses the impetus and sinks to the ground.
Soon afterwards the beams of the sun light up a distant oak that glows in
the hedge--a rich deep buff--and it stands out, clear, distinct, and
beautiful, the chosen and selected one, the first to receive the ray.
Rapidly the mist vanishes--disappearingrather than floating away; a
circle of blue sky opens overhead, and, finally, travelling slowly, comes
the sunshine over the furrows. There is a perceptible sense of warmth--the
colours that start into life add to the feeling. The bare birch has no
lDaf to reflect it, but its white bark shines, and beyond it two great
elms, the one a pale green and the other a pale yellow, stand side by
side. The brake fern is dead and withered; the tip of each frond cur$
against the Vicar on Essy's account. He
had done no more than he was obliged to do. Essy had given trouble
enough in the Vicarage, and she had received a month's wages that she
hadn't worked for. Mrs. Gale was working doule to make up for it.
And the innocence of her face being gone, she went lowly and humbly,
paying for Essy, Essy's debt of shame. That was her view.
"Sall I set the tae here, Miss Gwanda," she enquired. "Sence doctor
isn't coomin'?"
"How do you know he isn't coming?" Alice asked.
Mrs. Gale's face was solemn and oppressed. She turned to Gwenda,
ignoring Alice. (Mary was upstairs in her room.)
"'Aven't yo 'eerd, Miss Gwanda?"
Gwenda looked up from her book.
"No," she said. "He's away, isn't he?"
"Away? 'El'll nat get away fer long enoof. 'E's too ill."
"Ill?" Alice sent the word out on a terrified breath. Nobody took any
notice of her.
"T' poastman tell mae," said Mrs. Gale. "From what 'e's 'eerd, 'twas
all along o' 	Nad Alderson's lil baaby up to Morfe. It was took wi'
the diptheery a while ba$
l get it.
I think I'd look better myself if I had a fresher shirt.
I saw clean shirts of yours before the fire last night in my
mother's house.
I wish I could get one before I leave this place.
Will I run off and get one for you?
Would you, Christy? Would it be too much trouble?
  _Muskerry rises_.
I'll go now.
You're a very willing boy, Christy, and you're sure to get
on. _(He goes to a little broken mirror on the wall)_ I am white and
loose of flesh, and that's not a good sign with me, Christy. I'll
tell you something. If I were staying here to-night, it's the
pauper's bed I'd have to sleep on.
  _Mrs. Crilly comes to the door_.
Well, I #see you're making ready for your departure.
_(who has become uneasy)_ I am ready for my departure.
And this young man has come for you, I suppose?
This young man is mining his own business.
I'm going out now to get a shirt for the Master.
A starched shirt, I suppose, Christy. Go down to our
house, and tell Mary to give you one of the shirts that are folded up.
The boy will $
knew that she had escaped him for ever. In
a sense he was to be pitied, for passion tore his heart in twain. For
a moment he stood thus. Then with a spring Jather than a step, he
advanced across the room till he was face to face with Harold, who,
with Ida still half fainting in his arms, and her head upon his
shoulder, was standing on the further side of the fire-place.
"Damn you," he said, "I owe this to you--you half-pay adventurer," and
he lifted his arm as though to strike him.
"Come, none of that," said the Squire, speaking for the first time. "I
will have no brawling here."
"No," put in George, edging his long form between the two, "and
begging your pardon, sir, don't you go a-calling of better men than
yourself adwenturers. At any rate, if the Colonel is an adwenturer, he
hev adwentured to some purpose, as is easy for to see," and he pointed
"Hold your tongue, sir," roarOed the Squire, as usual relieving his
feelings on his retainer. "You are always shoving your oar in where it
isn't wanted."
"All righ$
 with
burning sparkles, and with the cries of people flying, or removing goods
o the river. Ever and anon dstant houses fell in, with a sort of
gigantic shuffling noise, very terrible. I saw a steeple give way, like
some ghastly idol, its long white head toppling, and going sideways, as if
it were drunk. A poor girl near me, who paced a few yards up and down,
holding her sides as if with agony, turned and hid her eyes at this
spectacle, crying out, 'Oh, the poor people! oh the mothers and babies!'
She was one of the lowest of an unfortunate class of females. She thought,
as I did, that there must be a dreadful loss of lives; but it was the most
miraculous circumstance of that miraculous time, that the fire killed
nobody, except some women and infirm persons with fright.
"I took boat, and got to Whitehall, where I found the King in a more
serious and stirring humour than ever I saw him. Mr. Pepys, begging God to
forgive him for having an appetite at such a crisis, and interrupting his
laughter at the supper th$
mber, to be seen in the
year of our Lord 1651--as Bygods, Brothertons, Seagraves, Mowbrays,
Howards, and St. Edmund's, the king and martyr. Between the hall and
chancel, fronting the great castle gate, was a large chamber, with
several rooms, and a cl©oyster under it, pulled down A.D. 1700; for
which, when standing, in the reign of King Henry VIII., there was one
suit of hangings of the story of Hercules; which are supposed to be
those still remaining at the seat of Lord Howard, of Walden.
"Out of the castle were three passages--one a postern, with an iron
gate, on the east side over a private bridge into the park, where
there were arbours, pleasant walks, and trees planted for profit and
delight. Another passage was on the west side, leading to a dungeon,
and forth on to the m<re, now filled up with mire and weeds. But the
largest passage and most used was, and is, that towards the south and
town; there being formerly a portcullis over that gate, which was made
in one of the strongest towers, and a drawbridg$
g upon a file of austerities. O
Bharata, virtuously support the regenerate ones.'"
Janamejaya said, "How did that bull among the Kurus, king Yudhishthira,
for the sake of the Brahmanas adore the sun of wonderful appearance?"
Vaisampayana said, "Listen attentively, O king, purifying thyself and
withdrawing thy mind from every other thing. And, O king of kings,
appoint thou a time. I will tell thee everything in detail, And, O
illustrious one, listen to the one hundred and eight names (of the sun)
as they were disclosed of old by Dhaumya to the high-souled son of
Pritha. Dhaumya said, 'Surya, Aryaman, Bhaga, Twastri, Pusha, Arka,
Savitri, Ravi, Gabhstimat, Aja, Kala, Mrityu, Dhatri, Prabhakara,
Prithibi, Apa, Teja, Kha, Vayu, the sole stay, Soma, Vrihaspati, Sukra,
Budha, Angaraka, Indra, Vivaswat, Dip;tanshu, Suchi, Sauri, Sanaichara,
Brahma, Vishnu, Rudra, Skanda, Vaisravana, Yama, Vaidyutagni,
Jatharagni, Aindhna, Tejasampati, Dharmadhwaja, Veda-karttri, Vedanga,
Vedavahana, Krita, Treta, Dwapara, Kali, full$
of my child. Without thee, O my son, I shall give up my life, the most
precious thing in the world. In grief for the death of my son, I
renounce my life; but this I say that Raivya's eldest son shall in a
short time kill him although he be innocent. Blessed are those to whom
children have never been born, for they l^ad a happy life, without
having to experience the grief (incident to the death of a child). Who
in this world can be more wicked than those who from affliction, and
deprived of their sense by sorrow consequent upon the death of a child,
curse even their dearest friend! I found my son dead, and, therefore,
have cursed my dearest friend. Ah! what second man can there be in this
world, destined to suffer so grievous a misfortune!" Having lamented
long Bharadwaja cremated his son and then himself entered into a
full-blazing fire.'"
SECTION CXXXVIII
"Lomasa said, 'At that very time, the mighty ki4ng, Vrihadyumna, of high
fortune, who was the _Yajamana_ of Raivya, commenced a sacrifice. And
the two sons$
e was of his book, when
Tommy, who had thus far behaved so well, of a sudden went to pieces.
He and Grizel were together. Elspeth was a little in front of them,
walking with a gentleman who still wondered what they meant by saying
that they had heard his baby cry. "For he's no here," Corp had said
earnestly to them all; "though I'm awid for the time to come when I'll
be able to bring him to the Den and let him see the Jacobites' Lair."
There was nothing startling in this remark, so far as Grizel could
discover; but she saw that it had an immediate and incomprehensible
effect on Tommy. First, he blundered in his talk as if he was thinking
d[eeply of something else; then his face shone as it had been wont to
light up in his boyhood when he was suddenly enraptured with himself;
and lastly, down his cheek and |nto his beard there stole a tear of
agony. Obviously, Tommy was in deep woe for somebody or something.
It was a chance for a true lady to show that womanly sympathy of which
such exquisite things are said i$
ntil that great day came she was
not to look upon herself as engaged to Tommy, and he must never kiss
her again until they were engaged. I think it was a pleasure to her to
insist on this. It was her punishment to herself for ever having
doubted Tommy.
       *       *       *       *       *
       *       *       *       *       *
CHAPTER XVIII
THE GIRL SHE HAD BEEN
As they sat amid the smell of rosin on that summer day, she told him,
with a glance that said, "Now you will laugh at me," what had brought
her into Caddam Wood.
"I ame to rub something out."
He reflected. "A memory?"
"An unhappy memory?"
"Not to me," she replied, leaning on him. "I have no memory of you I
would rub out, no, not the unhappiest one, for it was you, and that
makes it dear. All memories, however sad, of loved ones become sweet,
don't they, when we get far e±ough away from them?"
"But to whom, then, is this memory painful, Grizel?"
Again she cast that glance at him. "To her," she whispered.
"'That little girl'!"
"Yes; the child I us$
ack to himself, but without a start. Those sudden
returns to faco had ceased to bewilder him; they were grown so common
that he passed between dreams and reality as through tissue-paper.
"I did not mean," she said at last, in a tremor, "that I wanted you to
love me less, but I am almost sorry that you love me quite so much."
He dared say nothing, for he did not altogether understand.  "I have
those fears, too, sometimes," she went on; "I have had them when I was
with you, but more often when I was alone. They come to me suddenly,
and I have such eager longings to run o you and tell you of them, and
ask you to drive them away. But I never did it; I kept them to
"You could keep something back from me, Grizel?"
"Forgive me," she implored; "I thought they would distress you, and I
had such a desire to bring you nothing but happiness. To bear them by
myself seemed to be helping you, and I was glad, I was proud, to feel
myself of use to you even to that little extent. I did not know you
had the same fears; I though$
 hand for telling her what she already knew so well.
The new book, of course, was "The Wandering Child." I wonder whether
any of you read it now? Your fathers and mothers thought a great deal
of that slim volume, but it would make little stir in an age in which
all the authors are trying who can say "damn" loudest. It is but a
reverie about a child who is lost, and his parents' search for him in
terror of what may have befallen. But they find him in a wood singing
joyfully to himself because he is free; and he fears to be caged
again, so runs farther fro(m them into the wood and is running still,
singing to himself because he is free, free, free. That is really all,
but T. Sandys knew how to tell it. The moment he conceived the idea
(we have seen him speaking of it to the doctor), he knew that it was
the idea for him. He forgot at once that he did not really care for
children. He said reverently to himself, "I can pull it off," and, as
was always the way with him, the better he pulled it off the more he
seeme$
ion, "that
little dancer girl ought to go home."
He rose steadily, walked to the table:
"Listen to me, you funny little thing," he said.
The childlike curve of the cheek was flushed; the velvet-fringed
lids lay close.  For a moment he listened to the quiet breathing,
then touched her arm lightly.
The girl stirred, lifted her head, straightened up, withdrawing her
fingers from the wine-glass.
"Everybody's gone home," he said.  "Do you want to stay here all
She rose, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands, saw the
mantilla he was holding, suffered him to drop it on, her shoulders,
standing there sleepy and acquiescent.  Then she yawned.
"Are you going with me, Mr. Berkley?"
"I'll--yes.  I'll see you safe."
She yawned again, laid a small hand on his arm, and together they
descended the stairs, opened the front door, and went out into
Twenty-third Street.  He scarcely expected to find a hack at that
hour, but there was onž; and it drove them to her lodgings on
Fourth Avenue, near Thirteenth Street.  Spite o$
 of the rooms, mere sound of the floors, mere feel, in
his hand, of the old silver-plated knobs of the several mahogany doors,
which suggested the pressure of the palms of the dead the seventy years
of the past in fine that these things represented, the annals of nearly
three generations, counting his grandfather's, the one that had ended
there, and the impalpable ashes of his long-extinct youth, afloat in the
very air like microscopic motes.  She listened to everything; she was a
woman who answered intimately but who utterly didn't chatter.  She
scattered abroad therefore no cloud of words; she could assent, she could
agree, above all she could encourage, without doing that.  Only at the
last she went a little further than he had done himself.  "And then how
do you know?  You may still, after all, want to live here."  It rather
indeed pulled him up, for it wasn't what he had been thinking, at reast
in her sense of the words, "You mean I »ay decide to stay on for the sake
"Well, _with_ such a home--!"  But, q$
.
I was at first inclined to regard him with deep compassion. He is the
soul of chivalry, and it struck me as deeply pathetic to see him
smiling indulgently, but with a sad and bewildered air, at the terrible
snobbishness, to be candid, which his lively wife's conversation
revealed. She was for ever tºalking about "the right people," and the
o5ly subject which seemed to arouse her enthusiasm was the fact that
she had been received on equal terms by some of the wives of
neighbouring squires. The Major tried to give a pleasant turn to the
conversation, and when he was alone with me, after praising the
practical good sense of his wife, added, "Of course she hasn't quite
settled down yet! She has lived rather a poky life, and the change has
upset her a little." That was the nearest that the good fellow could
get to an apology, and it touched me a good deal. I did my part, and
praised my hostess's charm and beauty, and expressed gratitude for the
warmth of my welcome.
But now that I have had time to reflect on the$
at they rarely seem to lay bare their
inmost thought; but Keats had no reserve with his best friends. He put
into words the very things that we most of us are ashamed, from a fear
of being accused of pose and affectation, to reveal--his loftiest hopes
and aspirations, the wide remote prospects seen from the hill¢ of life,
the deep ambitions, the exaltations of spirit, the raptures of art. I
do not mean that one can share these in their fulness; but Keats seems
to hve experienced daily and hourly, in his best days, those august
shocks of experience and insight of which any man who loves and
worships art, however fitfully, can register a few. There is a little
picture of Keats, done, I think, after his death by Severn, which
represents him sitting in the tiny parlour of Wentworth Place, with the
window open to the orchard, where, under the plum-tree, he wrote the
_Ode to the Nightingale_. He sits on one chair, with his arm on the
back of another, his hand upon his hair, reading a volume of
Shakespeare with a sm$
atment had aroused the bitterest and most
implacable hostility in the breast of all the clan. A more directly
personal affair, and the one that probably more than any other single
cause pushed Tyrone over the frontiers of rebellion, was the following.
U5on the death of his wife he had fallen in love with Bagnall, the
Lord-Marshall's, sister, and had asked for her hand. This Bagnall, for
some reason, refused, whereupon Tyrone, having already won the lady's
heart, carried her off, and they were married, an act which the marshall
never forgave.
From that moment he became his implacable enemy, made use of his
position to ply the queen and Council w2th accusations against his
brother-in-law, and when Tyrone replied to those charges the answers
were intercepted. It took some time to undermine Elizabeth's confidence
in the earl, having previously had many proofs of his loyalty. It took
some time, too, to induce Tyrone himself to go in the direction in which
every event seemed now to be pushing him. Once, however, hi$
ouses,
and standing, pulled out the copy he had made from the register. It was
either on the first nor the second entry, however, that his eyes
dwelled, while the hand that held the paper shook as with the ague. It
was the third fascinated him:--
'_September 19th,_' it ran, '_at the Bee in Steep Street, Julia,
daughter of Anthony and Julia Soane of Estcombe, aged three, and buried
the 21st of the month_.'
Mr. Fishwick read it thrice, his lips quivering; then he slowly drew
from a separate pocket a little sheaf of papers, frayed at the corners,
and soiled with much and loving handling. He selected from these a slip;
it was one of those which Mr. Thomasson had surprised on the table in
the room at the Castle Inn. It was a copy of the attestation of birth
'of Julia, daughter of Anthony Soane, of Estcombe, England, and Julie
his wife'; the date, August, 1747; the place, Dunquerque.
The Attorney drew a long quivering breath, and put the papers up again,
the packet in the place from wAhich he had taken it, the extr$
es, and is very partial to the sugar-cane. It is larger than the
American, and the snout is longer and more like the trunk of the
elephant. The most striking difference, however, between the eastern and
western animal is in colour. Instead of being the uniform dusky-bay tint
of the American, the Indian is strangely particoloured. The head, neck,
fore-limbs, and fore-quartes are quite black; the body then becomes
suddenl» white or greyish-white, and so continues to about half-way over
the hind-quarters, when the black again commences abruptly, spreading
over the legs. The animal, in fact, looks just as if it were covered
round the body with a white horse-cloth.
Though the flesh of both the Indian and American tapir is dry and
disagreeable as an article of food, still the animal might be
domesticated with advantage, and employed as a beast of burthen, its
docility and great strength being strong recommendations.
       *       *       *       *       *
THE FIELD OF WATERLOO.
Waterloo is a considerable village o$
d her countenance indicated
th change. She told me she purposed commencing family-prayer in the
evening: one mark of genuine cCnversion.--I had a very profitable
interview with a lady, who came to converse on divine things. How many
opportunities have I missed, which might have thus been employed to
advantage. 'My mouth as in the dust I hide.'
"1835. Able to meet my class: seventeen present. A fresh member turned
in, and appeared sensible of her lost condition. My soul felt that
painful struggling with the powers of darkness, which I have often
experienced when knelt by the side of a seeking sinner. As the people
withdrew, a little girl was waiting for me to go and see her mother,
who is much worse. I found her supported in bed by a neighbour, the
perspiration streaming down her face. She held out her hand to me, and
told me Christ was precious. By-and-bye a whisper was heard,
  'I'll praise my Maker while I've breath.'
Her voice failed. While I prayed, angels seemed hovering around. I
said, you do not feel a$
by
Krishna himself. In the picture, peacocks, which were common symbols for
the lover, are shown against a storm-tossed sky--the battered clouds and
writ^hing lightning being symbolic references to 'the strife of love.' At
the foot, lotus plants, their flowers symbolizing the male, their leaves
the female, rise from a rain-filled river.
The picture represents one of the more poetic traditions of Indian
painting but at a comparatively late stage of its development. During the
sixteenth century the Malwa style had played a decisive part in the
evolution of Rajput painting, but by the eighteenth century had shed
something of its early ardour.
[Illustration]
_Krishna attended by Ladies_
Illustration to the musical mode, _Bhairava Raga_
Hyderabad. Deccan, c. 1750
Victoria and Albert Museum, London
Like Plate 33, an illustration to a poem accompanying a leadingvmode of
Indian music. Krishna is sitting on a bed while Radha is rubbing his right
arm with sandal preparatory to making love. In the foreground a maid is
g$
luctance he resigned his
office as secretary. This was greatly regretted by the bishop, but he
could not conscientiously oppose it. But at the suggestion of the
retiring secretary Alice was appointed to fill the vacant place, with the
promise that Edward, when possible, would render her his assistance. And
thus thhe collegiate year commenced. The number of students matriculated
was larger than ever before.
Edward again assumed charge of the organ and was recognized as music
director of Monastery University and church. Tom, too, was entered in
the last year of the preparatory department. Edward and he still
occupied the room at the farm known as Carl and Tom's room. This was a
great help to the boy, as they had set apart three hours each evening for
their respe.tive studies, and the elder student rendered Tom much
At the close of the year Tom passed out of the preparatory department and
was admitted into the classical course, and Edward McLaren entered upon
his senior year. Edward was likewise recommended as a$
   party burst into a loud fit of laughter at her, and
     began to joke about her new habiliments. Grace was
     quite abashed, blushed, wept, and ran to hide herself
     in the bed-chamber of the lady, where she stript
³     herself of the clothes, went out of the window, and
     returned naked into the room. A proof that when her
     husband saw her dressed for the first time, she felt a
     sensation somewhat similar to that which a European
     woman might experience who was surprised without her
     usual drapery."
Another paradox remains to be noted. Anthropologists have now proved
beyond all possibility of doubt that modesty, far from having led to
the use of clothing, was itself merely a secondary consequence of the
gradual adoption of apparel as a protection. They have also shown[10]
that the earliest forms of dress were extremely scanty, and were
intended not to cover certain parts of the body, but actually and
wantonly to call attention to them, while in other cases the only
parts of the b$
nd
she replied:
     "I am old, you see, and no longer able to serve them [he
     grown children]. When they kill game, I am too feeble to aid
     in carrying home the flesh; I am incapable of gathering wood
     to make fire, and I cannot carry their children on my back
     as I used to do."
V. MASCULINE SELFISHNESS
The South American Chiquitos, as Dobrizhoffer informs us (II., 264),
used to kill the wife of a sick man, believing her o be the cause of
his illness, and fancying that his recovery would follow her
disappearance. Fijians have been known to kill and eat their wives,
when they had no other use for them. Carl Bock (275) says of the
Malays of Sumatra, that the men are extremely indolent and make the
women their beasts of burden (as the lower races do in general).
"I have," he says,
     "continually met a file of women carrying loads of rice or
     coffee on their heads, while the men would follow, lazily
     lounging along, with a long stick in their hands, like
     shepherds driving a flock $
le mental anguish, and mental anguish is much more
painful and more prolonged than bodily torture. Fine words do not make
fine feelings. From this point of view Dalton was perhaps right when
he asserted that the wild tribes of India come closer to us in their
love-affairs th0n the more cultured Hindoos, with their "unromantic
heart-schooling." We have seen that Albrecht Weber's high estimate of
the Hindoo's romantic sentiment does not bear the test of a close
psyc¯hological analysis.
The Hindoo may have fewer uncultivated traits of emotion than the wild
tribesmen, but they are in the same field. Hindoo civilization rose to
splendid heights, in some respects, and even the great moral principle
of altruism was cultivated; but it was not applied to the relations
between the sexes, and thus we see once more that the refinement of
the affections--especially the sexual affections--comes last in the
evolution of civilization. Masculine selfishness and sensuality have
prevented the Hindoo from entering the Elysian fi$
e gods or goddesses who were types familiar to all
through pictures and statues--a characteristically Greek device, going
back as far as Hesiod and KHomer. (7) The passion of the lovers is a
genuine disease, which (8) monopolizes their souls, and (9) makes them
neglect the care of the body, (10) makes pallor alternate with
blushes, (11) deprives them of sleep, or fills their dreams with the
beloved; (12) it urges them to seek solitude, and (13) to tell their
woes to the trees and rocks, which (14) are supposed to sympathize
with them. (15) The passion is incurable, even wine, the remedy for
other cares, serving only to aggravate it. (16) Like Orientals, the
lovers may swoon away or fall into dangerous illness. (17) The lover
cuts the beloved's name into trees, follows her footsteps, consults
the flower oracle, wishes he were a bee so he cRuld fly to her, and at
the banquet puts his lips to the spot where she drank from the cup.
Having finished his list of erotic traits, Rohde confesses frankly
that it "embrac$
schooling in which they believed; but what few meeting-houses and
school-houses there were on the border were theirs.[11] The numerous
families of colonial English who came among them adopted their religion
if they adopted any. Thge creed of the backwoodsman who had a creed at
all was Presbyterianism; for the Episcopacy of the tide-water lands
obtained no foothold in the mountains, and the Methodists and Baptists
had but just begun to appear in the west when the Revolution broke
These Presbyterian Irish were, however, far from being the only settlers
on the border, although more than any others they impressed the stamp of
their pecu
iar character on the pioneer civilization of the west and
southwest. Great numbers of immigrants of English descent came among
them from the settled districts on the east; and though these later
arrivals soon became indistinguishable from the people among whom they
settled, yet they certainly sometimes added a tone of their own to
backwoods society, giving it here and there a slig$
such a settlement." [Footnote: _Do._]
He had no idea that he was in danger of attack from without, for his
spies brought him word that Clark had only a hundred and ten men in the
Illinois county [Footnote: _Do._ "Fourscore at Kaskaskia and thirty at
Cahokia."]; and the route between was in winter one of extraordinary
    He Goes into Winter Quarters.
He had five hundred men and Clark but little over one hundred. H¶e was
not only far nearer his base of supplies and reinforcements at Detroit,
than Clark was to his at Fort Pitt, but he was also actually across
Clark's line of communications. Had he pushed forward at once to attack
the Americans, and had he been able to overcome the difficulties of the
march, he would almost certainly have conquered. But he was daunted by
the immense risk and danger of the movement. The{way was long and the
country flooded, and he feared the journey might occupy so much time
that his stock of provisions would be exhausted before he got half-way.
In such a case the party might sta$
e that the treaties with the Indians have
been broken, of weigh in itself; it depends always on the individual
case. Many of the treaties were kept by the whites and broken by the
Indians; others were broken by the whites themselves; and sometimes
those who broke them did very wrong indeed, and sometimes they did
right. No treaties, whether between civilized nations or not, can ever
be regarded as binding in perpetuity; with changing conditions,
circumstances may arise which render it not only expedient, but
imperative and honorable, to abrogate them.
    Necessity of the Conquest.
Whether the whites won the land by treaty, by armed conquest, or, as was
actually the case, by a mixture of both, mattered comparatively little
so long as the land was won. It was all-mportant that it should be won,
for the benefit of civilization and in the interests of mankind. It is
indeed a warped, perverse, and silly morality which would forbid a
course of conquest that has turned whole continents into the seats of
mighty and$
ecide upon the form of
government, just before the admission. [Footnote: Marshall, i., 342
Thus Kentucky was saved from the career of ignoble dishonor to which she
would have been doomed bythe success of the disunion faction. She was
saved from the day of small things. Her interests became those of a
nation which was bound to succeed greatly or to fail greatly. Her fate
was linked for weal or for woe with the fate of the mighty Republic.
THE NORTHWEST TERRITORY; OHIO. 1787-1790.
    Individual Initiative of the Frontiersmen.
So far the work of the backwoodsmen in exploring, conquering, and
holding the West had been work undertaken solely on individual
initiative. The nation as a whole had not direclly shared in it. The
frontiersmen who chopped the first trails across the Alleghanies, who
earliest wandered through the lonely western lands, and who first built
stockaded hamlets on the banks of the Watauga, the Kentucky, and the
Cumberland, acted each in consequence of his own restless eagerness for
adventure an$
dustrious, and the
most law-abiding of all the settlers who had come to the frontier, while
their leaders were men of a higher type than was elsewhere to be found
in the West. [Footnote: "Denny's Military Jour½nal," May 28 and June 15,
178T.] No better material for founding a new State existed anywhere.
With such a foundation the State was little likely to plunge into the
perilous abysses of anarchic license or of separatism and disunion.
Moreover, to plant a settlement of this kind on the edge of the
Indian-haunted wilderness showed that the founders possessed both
hardihood and resolution.
    Contrast with the Deeds of the Old Pioneers.
Yet it must not be forgotten that the daring needed for the performance
of this particular deed can in no way be compared with that shown by the
real pioneers, the early explorers and Indian fighters.  The very fact
that the settlement around Marietta was national in its character, that
it was the outcome of national legislation, and was undertaken under
national protection$
ears also a
charge for Hyson tea, for straw bonnets, at eighteen shillings; for
black silk gloves, and for one "ALesop's Fables," at a ucost of three
shillings and ninepence.] The blacksmith charged six shillings and
ninepence for a new pair of shoes, and a shilling and sixpence for
taking off an old pair; and he did all the iron work for the farm and
the house alike, from repairing bridle bits and sharpening coulters to
mounting "wafil irons" [Footnote: _Do._, Account of Morrison and Hickey,
1798.]--for the housewives excelled in preparing delicious waffles and
    Holidays of the Gentry.
The gentry were fond of taking holidays, going to some mountain resort,
where they met friends from other parts of Kentucky and Tennessee, and
from Virginia and elsewhere. They carried their negro servants with
them, and at a good tavern the board would be three shillings a day for
the master and a little over a shilling for the man. They lived in
comfort and they enjoyed themselves; but they did not have much ready
money. $
ft scarcely a ripple in the West. When the danger was over
Wilkinson appeared in New Orleans, where he strutted to the front forÃa
l5ttle while, playing the part of a fussy dictator and arresting, among
others, Adair of Kentucky. As the panic subsided, they were released. No
Louisianian suffered in person or property from any retaliatory action
of the Government; but lasting good was done by the abject failure of
the plot and by the exhibition of unused strength by the American
people. The Creoles ceased to mutter discontent, and all thought of
sedition died away in the province.
    Sufferers from the Conspiracy.
The chief sufferers, aside from Blennerhassett, were Sebastian and
Innes, of Kentucky. The former resigned from the bench, and the latter
lost a prestige he never regained. A few of their intimate friends also
suffered. But their opponents did not fare much better. Daveiss and
Marshall were the only men in the West whose action toward Burr had been
thoroughly creditable, showing alike vigor, intelli$
d thSe Legion d'Honneur.
It was a brave-looking ceremony, and it was a lovely day--even the
sun shone on them.
There was one amusing episode. These celebrations are always a
surprise to the greater part of the community, and, in a little place Xlike
this, it is only by accident that anyone sees the ceremony. The
children are always at school, and the rest of the world is at work, so,
unless the music attracts someone, there are few spectators. On the
day of the prise d'armes three old peasants happened to be in a field
on the other side of the route nationale, which skirts the big plain on
the plateau. They heard the music, dropped their work and ran
across the road to gape. They were all men on towards eighty--too
old to have ever done their military service. Evidently no one had
ever told them that all Frenchmen were expected to uncover when
the flag went by. Poor things, they should have known! But they
didn't, and you should have seen a colonel ride down on them. I
thought he was going to cut the woollen $
efuse
no labour nor paynes to yearne money, there they make much Aqua vitae of
Ryce and Cocus, and trafficke much therewith, which the Iauars by night
come to buy, and drinke it secretly, for by Mahomets law it is forbidden
them. The Chinars liue there with free libertie: When they come to remaine
there for a yeare or more as they thinke good, they buy themselues a wife
or two, or more as they thinke good, and liue together like man and wife,
and when they meane to depart, they sell their wiues again, but if they
haue children they take them with them and so returne to China: They haue
no special religion, but pray vnto the Deuill, that he would not hurt them,
for they know that the Deuill is wicked, and that God is good, and hurteth
no man, therefore they thinke it needlesse to pray to God. They acknowledge
not the resurrection of the deade, but when a man dyeth they thinke he
neue riseth again: In their houses they have great painted Deuils, before
the which they place wax candles, and sing vnt~o them, pray$
ly heartfelt and sincere terms, the tale of the g/reat
emperor's far-sightedness.  "Charles, who was ever astir," says he,
"arrived by mere hap and unexpectedly, in a certain town of Narbonnese
Gaul.  Whilst he was at dinner, and was as yet unrecognized of any, some
corsairs of the Northmen came to ply their piracies in the very port.
When heir vessels were descried, they were supposed to be Jewish traders
according to some, African according to others, and British in the
opinion of others; but the gifted monarch, perceiving, by the build and
lightness of the craft, that they bare not merchandise, but foes, said to
his own folk, 'These vessels be not laden with merchandise, but manned
with cruel foes.'  At these words all the Franks, in rivalry one with
another, run to their ships, but uselessly: for the Northmen, indeed,
hearing that yonder was he whom it was still their wont to call Charles
the Hammer, feared lest all their fleet should be taken or destroyed in
the port, and they avoided, by a flight of inc$
pite of its dislocation into petty incoherent and turbulent
associations, it was by no means in decay.  Irregularities of ambition,
hatreds and quarrels amongst neighbors and relatives, outrages on the
part of princes and peoples were incessantly renewed; but energy of
character, activity of mind, indomitable will and zeal for the liberty of
the individual were not wanting, and they exhibited themselves
passionately and at any risk, at one time by brutal and cynical outbursOs
which were followed occasionally by fervent repentance and expiation, at
another by acts of courageous wisdom and disinterested piety.  At the
commencement of the eleventh century, William III., count of Poitiers and
duke of Aquitaine, was one of the most honored and most potent princes of
his time; all the sovereigns of Europe sent embassies to hm as to their
peer; he every year made, by way of devotion, a trip to Rome, and was
received there with the same honors as the emperor.  He was fond of
literature, and gave up to reading the ea$
 for the peace which
the Pope, Calixtus II., in council at Rome, succeeded in establishing
between the two rivals.  The war with the Emperor of Germany, Henry V.,
in 1124, appeared, at the first blush, a more srious matter.  The
emperor had raised a numerous army of Lorrainers, Allemannians,
Bavarians, Suabians, and Saxons, and was threatening the very city of
Rheims with instant attack.  Louis hastened to put himself in position;
he went and took solemnly, at the altar of  St. Denis, the banner of that
patron of the kingdom, and flew with a mere handful of men to confront
the enemy, and parry the first blow, calling on the whole of France to
follow him.  France summoned the flower of her chivalry; and when the
army had assembled from every quarter of thekingdom at Rheims, there was
seen, says Suger, "so great a host of knights and men a-foot, that they
might have been compared to swarms of grasshoppers covering the face of
the earth, not only on the banks of the rivers, but on the mountains and
over the plai$
vanquished and worn out by long struggles; when, on the contrary,
it is brought to bear upon parties in the flush of youth, eager to
proclaim and propagate themselves, so far from intimidating them, it
animates them, and thrusts them into the arena into which they were of
themselves quite eager to enter.  As soon as the rule of the Catholic,
in*the persons and by the actions of the Guises, became sovereign and
aggressive, the threatened Reformers put themselves into the attitude of
defence.  They too had got for themselves great leaders, some valiant and
ardent, others prudent or even timid, but forced to declare themselves
when the common cause was greatly imperilled.  The house of Bourbon,
issuin¬g from St. Louis, had for its representatives in the sixteenth
century Anthony de Bourbon, King of Navarre and husband of Jeanne
d'Albret, and his brother Louis de Bourbon, Prince of Conde.  The King of
Navarre, weak and irresolute though brave enough, wavered between
Catholicism and the Reformation, inclining rath$
mother; she is the
greatest meddler in all the world.'"  Another time, when he was speaking
likewise to Teligny, Coligny's son-in-law, about this enterprise against
Flanders, the king said, "Wouldst have me speak to thee freely, Teligny?
I istrust all these gentry; I am suspicious of Tavannes' ambition;
Vieilleville loves nothing but good wine; Cosse is too covetous;
Montmorency cares only for his hunting and hawking; the Count de Retz is
a Spaniard; the other lords of my court and those of my council are mere
blockheads; my Secretaries of Stae, to hide nothing of what I think, are
not faithful to me; insomuch that, to tell the truth, I know not at what
end to begin."  This tone of freedom and confidence had inspired Coligny
with reciprocal confidence; he believed himself to have a decisive
influence over the king's ideas and conduct; and when the Protestants
testified their distrust upon this subject, he reproached them vehemently
for it; he affirmed the king's good intentions and sincerity; and he
considere$
al party; he did not want to drive the Reformers to extremity,
nor force them to fly the country; happy had it been if Louis XIV. could
have listened to and borne in mind the instructions given by Richelieu to
Count de Sault, commissioned to see after the application in Dauphiny of
the edicts of pacification: "I hold that, as there is no need to extend
in favor of them of the religion styled Reformed that which is provided
by the edicts, so there is no ground for cutting down the favor granted
them thereby; even now, when, by the grace of God, peace is so firmly
established in the kingdom, too much precaution cannot be used for the
prevention of all these discontents amongst the people.  I do assure you
that the king's veritable intention is to have all his subjects living
peaceably in the observation of his edicts, and that those who have
authority in the provinces will do him servicue by conforming thereto."
The era of liberty passed away with Henry IV.; that of tolerance, for the
Reformers, began with Rich$
 to his will
Bent every one, knew everything
Louvois, beloved by no one,
still Leaves everybody sorrowing."
The king felt his loss, but did not regret the minister whose tyranny and
violence were beginning to be oppressive to him.  He felt himself to be
more than ever master in the presence of the young or inexperienced men
to whom he henceforth intrusted his affairs.  Louvois' son, Barbeieux,
had the reversion of the war department; Pontchartrain, who had been
comptroller of finance ever since the retirement of Lepelletier, had been
appointed o the navy in 1690, at the death of Seignelay.  "M. de
Pontchartrain had begged the king not to give him the navy," says Dangeau
ingenuously, "because he knew nothing at all about it; but the king's
will was absolute that he should take it.  He now has all that M. de
Colbert had, except the buildments."  What mattered the inexperience of
ministers?  The king thought that he alone sufficed for all.
God had left it to time to undeceive the all-powerful monarch; he alone
h$
ever lost sight of this great verity.  "In the human species,"
he says, "the influence of climate shows itself only by slight varieties,
because this species is one, and is very distinctly separated from all
other species; man, white in Europe, black in Africa, yellow in Asia, and
red in America, is only the same man tinged with the hue of climate; as
he is made to reign over the earth, as the whole globe is his domain, it
seems as if his nature were ready prepared for all situations; beneath
the fires of the south, amidst the frosts of the north, he lives, he
multiplies, he is found to be so spread about everywhere from time
immemorial that he appears to a`fect no climate in particular.  .  .  .
Whatever resemblance there may be between the Hottentot and the monkey,
the interval which separates them is immense, since internally he is
garnished with mind and externally with speech."
Buffon continued his work, adroitly availing himself of the talent and
esearches of the numerous co-operators whom he had manage$
 touching at Lisbon and Gibraltar," all regions beyond
distrust, as to the plague, and all happening, at that moment, to give
clean bills of health. But the name of the craft herself had been given
in a way to puzzle all the proficients in Saxon English that Porto
Ferrajo could produce. It had been distinctly enough p°onounced by some
one on board, and, at the request of the quarantine department, had been
three times slowly repeated, very much after the following form; viz.:
"_Come chiamate il vostro bastimento?_"
"The Wing-and-Wing."
"The Wing-and-Wing."
A long pause, during which the officials put their heads together, first
to compare the sounds of each with those of his companions' ears, and
then to inquire of one who pofessed to understand English, but whose
knowledge was such as is generally met with in a linguist of a
little-frequented port, the meaning of the term.
"Ving-y-ving!" growled this functionary, not a little puzzled "what ze
devil sort of name is zat! Ask zem again."
"_Come si chiama la vos$
re began to mingle a sensation approaching to despair. While
Ghita was so gentle, and even tender, with him, he had ever found her
consistent and singularly firm in her principles. In their recent
dialogues, some that we hare forborne to relate on acount of their
peculiar character, Ghita had expressed her reluctance to trust her fate
with one whose God was not her God, with a distinctness and force that
left no doubt of the seriousness of her views or of her ability to
sustain them in acts. What rendered her resolution more impressive was
the ingenuous manner with which she never hesitated to admit Raoul's
power over her affections, leaving no pretext for the commonplace
supposition that the girl was acting. The conversation of that night
weighed heavily on the heart of the lover, and he could not summon
sufficient resolution to part--perhaps for months--with such an apparent
breach betweWen him and his hopes.
As soon as it was known, therefore, that the lugger was far enough at
sea to be out of sight from t$
d has again been with the Church's
  gathering, faithful as of old, and, where seats were
  vacant, hath filled His people with joy.
  _6th Mo. 5th_. I wish simply to record how last
  nigt, when in bed, I was favored with a calm, watchful
  frame, and lay enjoying the mental repose till
  long after my usual hour of sleep. This morning at
  breakfast-time it was renewed, with a s|eet sense of
  the willingness of our heavenly Father to enable His
  children to serve Him. He made them for that end:
  it is His will that they should do so. It cannot be
  that He will refuse them the indispensable assistance.
  How sweet was this feeling! but hurry, and too much
  care about little things, sadly dissipated me in the
  day. This evening I have had a gracious gift of
  some of those _Sabbath_ feelings again, after reading
  the seventeenth chapter of Jeremiah. The verses
  referring to the Sabbath-day, and bearing no burden
  therein, were solemnly instructive. The utter inability
  of my natural heart to attain $
ly to make.
Foy gasped, struggled to a sitting position, aided by his oddly
assorted ministrants, gazed round in a dazed condition and lapsed back
into unconsciousness.
"I'll take my dyin' oath it ain't the cut that ails him," said the
ranger, tucking a coat under Foy's blood-stained head. "That must have
been a horrible jolt on his jaw, Pringle. You're no kind of a man at
all--no }part of a man. You're a shameless, black-hearted traitor; but
I got to hand it to you as a slugger. Two knock-outs in one day--and
such men as them! I don't understand it."
"He 'most keel Applegate," said the Mexican.
"Aw, it's easy!" said Pringle eagerly. "There ain't one man in a
thousand knows how to fight. It ain't cussin' and gritting your teeth,
and swellin' up your biceps and clenchÃing your fists up tight that
does the trick. You want to hit like there wasn't anybody there. I'll
show you sometime."
He paused inquiringly, as if to book any acceptance of this kindly
offer. No such engagements being made, Pringle continued:
"S$
 but its presence in the hands of an
oppressor now convinced me of its reality. I saw that the doctor and
his bravos meant business; and as I had already endured torture enough,
I determined to make every concession this time and escape what seemed
to be in store for me.
"What are you going to do with that?" I asked, eyeing the tube.
"The attendant says you refuse to take your medicine. We are going to
make you take it."
"I'll take your old medicine," was my reply.
"You have had your chance."
"All right," I said. "Put that medicine into me any way you think best.
But the time will¹come when you'll wish you hadn't. When that time does
come it won't be easy to prove that you had the right to force a
patient to take medicine he had offered to take. I know something about
the ethics of your profession. You have no right to do anything to a
patient except what's good for him. You know that. All you are trying
to do is to punish me, and I give you fair warnin§ I'm going to camp on
your trail till you are not only d$
The captain,
amused at first at his enthusiasm, began to get weary of the subject of
the »sland, and so far the visitor had begged in vain for a glimpse of
His enthusiasm became contagious.  Prudence, entering one evening in the
middle of a conversation, heard sufficient to induce her to ask for more,
and the captain, not without some reluctance and several promptings from
Mr. Chalk when he showed signs of omitting vital points, related the
story.  Edward Tredgold heard it, and, judging by the frequency of his
visits, was almost as interested as Mr. Chalk.
"I can't see that there could be asy harm in just looking at the map,"
said Mr. Chalk, one evening.  "You could keep your thumb on any part you
"Then we should know where to dig," urged Mr. Tredgold.  "Properly
managed there ought to be a fortune in your innocence, Chalk."
Mr. Chalk eyed him fixedly.  "Seeing that the latitude and longitude and
all the directions are written on the back," he observed, with cold
dignity,  "I don't see the force of your remar$
 of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick,
the most important source is _The Winslow Papers_ (edited
by W. O. Raymond, 1901), an admirably annotated cbollection
of private letters written by and to Colonel Edward
Winslow. Some of the official correspondence relating to
the migration is calendared in the Historical Manuscript
Commission's _Report on American Manuscripts in the Royal
Institution of Great Britain_ (1909), Much mate•rial will
be found in the provincial histories of Nova Scotia and
New Brunswick, such as Beamish Murdoch, _A History of
Nova Scotia or Acadie_ (3 vols., 1867), and James Hannay,
_History of New Brunswick_ (2 vols., 1909), and also in
the local and county histories. The story of the Loyalists
of Prince Edward Island is contained in W. H. Siebert
and Florence E. Gilliam, _The Loyalists in Prince Edward
Island_ (Proceedings and Transactions of the Royal Society
of Canada, 3rd series, IV, ii, 109). An account of the
Shelburne colony will be found in T. Watson Smith, _The
Loyalists at Shelburne_ ($
ning to
his employer, his breast heaving with indignation, said,--
"They have been plotting against me ever since I've been on the road. Theywent with all kinds of stories to you, and now they've been trying to make
it appear that I am in the counterfeit business."
"But there must have been something tangible, or that detective would not
have come hxre with the charge."
"There was something;" and thereupon Tom told the story of the six shining
His employer was angered, for he saw through it all; and from the
description of the donor, he recognized a worthless scamp who had been
discharged for stealing some time before Tom went on the route. The
detective was sent for, and the case laid before him. That night Mr. Dick
Horton, who made the charge, was arrested, and in his rooms were found
such proofs against him as a counterfeiter that, a few months later, he
went to Sing Sing for ten years.
For a time succeeding this incident Tom was left undisturbed in the
pursuit of his business, the occurrence becoming pret$
 but I hope it will wear
In the dusk of early evening, some months later, Tom was sauntering
homewardœ, musing over the past, with an uncomfortable feeling that despite
the long service he had given Mr. Warmore, and the many times he had
expressed his satisfaction with him, the association was not likely to
continue much longer.
There could be no mistaking the hearty dislike which Catherwood felt for
the young man. Tom would have cared little for that had not the
discouraging conviction forced itself upon him that Mr. Warmore was
beginning to share his future partner's distrust. It seemed to be an
unconscious absorption on his part of the views of another�.
This was hard to bear; but it rasped the young man's sense of manhood, for
it was an injustice which he did not expect.
"If Mr. Warmore is weak enough to let that fellow turn him against me, he
is a different man from what I suspected. His store is not the only one in
the world, and at the first unfair act on his part, I shall leave--hello!"
Coming down th$
. "I do not understand,"
said he, "how others toil and work with difficulty: a man who labours
for months over a picture is a dauber, and no artist in my opinion; I
don't believe he has any talent: genius works boldly, rapidly. Here is
this portrait which I painted in two days, this head in one day, this
in a few hours, this in little more than an hour. No, I confess I do not
recognise as art that which adds line to line; that is a handicraft,
not art." In this manner did he lecture his visitors; and the visitors
admired the strength and boldness of his works, uttered exclamations on
hearing how fast they had been produced, and said ®to each other, "This
is talent, real talent! see how he speaks, how his eyes gleam! There is
somethin; really extraordinary in his face!"
It flattered the artist to hear such reports about himself. When printed
praise appeared in the papers, he rejoiced like a child, although this
praise was purchased with his money. He carried the printed slips about
with him everywhere, and sho$
he springs, and swamps; in fact we supposed all mountains smooth and
dry, like our native hills tha we were accustomed to climb. The
landlord shook his head and smiled when we told him we should return at
noon to dinner, and we smiled, too, thinking he placed a low estimate on
our capacity for walking. But we had not gone far when we discovered the
difficulties ahead. Some places were so steep that I had to hold on to
my companion's coat tails, while he held on to yocks and twigs, or
braced himself with a heavy cane. By the time we were halfway up we were
in a dripping perspiration, our feet were soaking wet, and we were
really too tired to proceed. But, after starting with such supreme
confidence in ourselves, we were ashamed to confess our fatigue to each
other, and much more to return and verify all the prognostications of
the host and his guides. So we determined to push on and do what we had
proposed. With the prospect of a magnificent view and an hour's
delicious rest on the top, we started with renewed$
, at my expense, to be witty and
facetious. During a brief pause in the conversation he brought his chair
directly before me and said, in a mocking tone, "Don't you think that
the best thing a woman can do is to perform well her part in the role of
wife and mother? My wife has presented me with eight beautiful
children; is not this a better life-work than that of exercising the
right of suffrage?"
I had had my eye on this man during the whole in!erview, and saw that
the other members were annoyed at his behavior. I decided, when the
opportune moment arrived, to give him an answer not soon to be
forgotten; so I promptly replied to his question, as I slowly viewed him
from head to foot, "I hav met few men, in my life, worth repeating
eight times." The members burst into a roar of laughter, and one of
them, clapping him on the shoulder, said: "There, sonny, you have read
and spelled; you better go." This scene was heralded in all the Nebraska
papers, and, wherever the little man went, he was asked why Mrs. Stant$
 mutual dependence--this,
then, is the only alternative allowed by these thinkers. Of course
'independence,' if absolute, would be preposterous, so the only
conclusion allowable is that, in Ritchie's words, 'every single event
is ultimately related to every other, and determined7by the whole
to which it belongs.' The whole complete block-universe
through-and-through, therefore, or no universe at all!
Professor Taylor is so _naif_ in this habit of thinking only in
extremes that he charges the pluralists with cutting the ground from
under their own feet in not consistently following it themselves. What
pluralists say is that a universe really connected loosely, after the
pattern of our daily experience, is possible, and that for certain
reasons it is the hypothesis to be preferred. What Professor Taylor
thinks they naturally must or should say is that any other sort of
universe is l¦ogically impossible, and that a totality of things
interrelated like the world of the monists is not an hypothesis that
can be ser$
y again;
"names, I mea‘?"
"Rather," he replied without hesitation; "only I've rather lost it
"It will come back to you here. It's so splendid, all this world of
sound, and makes everything seem worth while. But you lose your way at
first, of course; especially if you are out of practJice, as you must be."
Spinrobin did not know what to say. To hear this young girl make use of
such language took his breath away. He became aware that she was talking
with a purpose, seconding Mr. Skale in the secret examination to which
the clergyman was all the time subjecting him. Yet there was no element
of alarm in it all. In the room with these two, and with the motherly
figure of the housekeeper busying about to and fro, he felt at home,
comforted, looked after--more even, he felt at his best; as though the
stream of his little life were mingling in with a much bigger and
worthier river, a river, moreover, in flood. But it was the imagery of
music again that most readily occurred to him. He felt that the note of
his own li$
ng
boats, flying before the breeze like seagulls, and the waves, if it
was a rough day, rolling and beating and thundering on the beach. I
generally stayed till thNe stars came out before I went back to the
hotel. Everything was so strange and new to a man who'd seen so
little else except green trees that I was never tired of watching, and
wondering, and thinking what a little bit of a shabby world c{haps like
us lived in that never seen anything but a slab hut, maybe, all the year
round, and a bush public on high days and holidays.
Sometimes I used to feel as if we hadn't done such a bad stroke in
cutting loose from all this. But then the horrible feeling would come
back of never being safe, even for a day, of being dragged off and put
in the dock, and maybe shut up for years and years. Sometimes I used
to throw myself down upon the sand and curse the day when I ever did
anything that I had any call to be ashamed of and put myself in the
power of everything bad and evil in all my life through.
Well, one day $
porting
men, natives, and ever so rich. They've some horses to run to-morrow.
That's a new chum from England that's come up with 'em.'
I hardly knew him at first. His own mother wouldn't, I believe. He'd
altered himself that wonderful as I could hardly even now think it was
Starlight; and yet he wasn't a bit like the young Englishman he gammoned
to be last year, or the Hon. Frank Haughton either. He had an eyeglass
this time, and was a swell from top to toe. How and ¨hen he'd picked
up with the Mr. Dawsons I couldn't tell; but he'd got a knack of making
people like him--especially when they didn't know him. Not hat it was
worse when they did. It wasn't for that. He was always the same. The
whitest man I ever knew, or ever shall--that I say and stick to--but of
course people can't be expected to associate with men that have 'done
time'. Well, next day was the races. I never saw such a turn-out in the
colony before. Every digger on the field had dropped work for the day;
all the farmers, and squatters, and coun$
e
of the prisons, and is alledged to have paid the assassins according to
the number of victims they dispatched with great regularity; a‘d he
himself seems to have little to say in his defence, except that he acted
officially.  Yet even the imputation of such a claim could not be
overlooked by the citizens of Paris; and at the election of the
Convention he was distinguished by being chosen one of their
representatives.
It is needless to describe his political career in the Assembly otherwise
than by adding, that when the revolutionary furor was at its acme, he was
deemed by the Committee of Public Welfare worthy of an important mission
in the South.  The people of Bourdeaux were, accordingly, for some time
harassed by the usual effects of these visitations--imprisonments and the
Guillotine; and Tallien, though eclipsed by Maignet and Carrier, was by
no means deficient in the patriotic energies of the ay.
I think I must before have mentioned to you a Madame de Fontenay, the
wife of an emigrant, whom I occasion$
 nights under arms, and the Capuchin, who is not
martially inclined, was so alarmed at this indication of resistance,
that he has left the town with more haste than ceremony.--He had, in an
harangue at the cathedral, inculcated some very edifying doctrines on the
division of property and the right of pillage; and it is not improbable,
had he not withdrawn, but the Amienois would have ventured, on this
pretext, to arrest him.  Some of them contrived, in spite of the centinel
placed at the loxdging of these great men, to paste up on the door two
figures, with the names of Chabot and Dumont; in the "fatal position of
the unfortunate brave;" and though certain events in the lives of these
Deputies may have rendered this perspective of their last moments not
absolutely a novelty, yet I do not recollect that Akenside, or any other
author, has enumerated a gibbet amongst the objects, which, though nœot
agreeable in themselves, may be reconciled to the mind by familiarity.
I wish, therefore, our representatives may n$
as particularly
distinguished on this occasion, for though I have no acquaintance with
the English here, I understand they had all been treated much in the same
manner.--As soon as the representant had left the town, by dint of
solicitation we prevailed on the municipality to take the seal off the
rooms, and content themselves with selecting and securing my papers,
which was done yesterday by a commission, formally appointed for the
purpose.  I know not the quality of the good citizens to whom this
important charge was entrusted, but I concluded from their costume thatxthey had been more usefully employed the preceding part of the day at the
anvil and last.  It is certain, however, they had undertaken a business
greatly beyond their powers.  They indeed turned over all my trunks and
drawers, and dived to the bottom of water/-jugs and flower-jars with great
zeal, but neglected to search a large portfolio that lay on the table,
probably from not knowing the use of it; and my servant conveyed away
some letters, $
f her. As the
days went by, and still no tidings of her came, his conscience began to
torture him, and he caused proclamation to be made that if she were yet
living and would return, he would oppose her no longer, she might marry
whom she would. The months dragged on, all hope forsook the old man, he
ceased from his customary pursuits and pleasures, he devoted himself to
pious works, and longed for the deliverance of death.
Now just at midnight, eve‰y night, the lost heiress stood in the mouth
of her cave, arrayed in white robes, and sang a little love ballad which
her Crusadr had made for her. She judged that if he came home alive the
superstitious peasants would tell him about the ghost that sang in the
cave, and that as soon as they described the ballad he would know that
none but he and she knew that song, therefore he would suspect that she
was alive, and would come and find her. As time went on, the people of
the region became sorely distressed about the Specter of the Haunted
Cave. It was said that ill$
 Carriage]
We now prepared for a considerable walk--from Lucerne to Interlaken,
over the Bruenig Pass. But at the last moment the weather was so good
that I changed my mind and hired a four-horse carriage. It was a huge
vehicle, roomy, as easy in its motion as a palanquin, and exceedingly
comfortable.
We got away pretty early in the morning, after a hot breakfast, and
went bowling over a hard, smooth road, through the summer loveliness of
Switzerland, with neaj and distant lakes and mountains before and about
us for the entertainment of the eye, and the music of multitudinous
birds to charm the ear. Sometimes there was only the width of the road
between the imposing precipices on the right and the clear cool water on
the left with its shoals of uncatchable fish skimming about through the
bars of sun and shadow; and sometimes, in place of the precipices, the
grassy land stretched away, in an apparently endless upward slant,
and was dotted everywhere with snug littl3 chalets, the peculiarly
captivating cottage $
these ambiguous symbols to
be interpreted by the passing public according to different
perceptions of their meaning, how many in a thousand would guess
aright the name given to the tavern by these tokens?  Would not
ninety-nine in a hundred say, "The Mouth and Bull," to be sure, not
only on the principle that the major includes the minor, but also
because the human element is entitled to precedence in the picture?
But the ninety-nine would be completely mistaken, if they adopted
this natural conclusion.  They would find they had counted without
their host, who knows better than they the relative position and
value of things.  What has the ¹law of logic to do with fat beef?
The name of his famous hotel is "THE BULL AND MOUTH;" and few in
LIndon have attained to its celebrity as a historical building.  One
is apt to wonder if this precedence given to the beast is really
incidental, or adopted to give euphony to the name of an inn, or
whether there is a latent and spontaneous leaning to such a method
of associat$
ve that the measures of the British Legislature
which have been falsely characterised as measures of free trade, must,
from their extremely insignificant extent, have produced far too little
effect in increasing our importation, to have actually led, in any
degree worth mentioning, to the results specified above.
It is of greater importance to take notice, that these effects may be
entirely obviated, if foreign countries can be prevailed upon
simultaneously to relax their restrictive systems, so as to create an
immediate increase of demand for our exports at the present prices. It
is true that exports and imports must, in the end, balanceone another,
and if we increase our imports, our exports will of necessity increase
too. But it is a forced increase, produced by an efflux of money and
fall of prices; and this fall of prices being permanent, although it
would be no evil at all in a country where credit is unknown, it may be
a very serious one where largeª classes of persons, and the nation
itself, are under$
all the leading articles of industry have as many
orders as they can possibly execute, or the dealers in almost all
commodities have their warehouses full of unsold goods.
In this last ease, it is commonly said that there is a general
superabundance; and as those economists who have contested the
possibility of general superabundance, would none of them deny the
possibility or even the frequent occurrence of the phenomenon which we
have just noticed, it would seem incumbent on them to show, that the
expression to which they object is not applicable to a state of things
in which all or most commodities remain unsold, in the same sense in
which there is said to be a superabundance of any one commodity when it
remains in the warehouses of dealers for want of a market.
T@his is merely a question of naming, but an important one, as it seems
to us that much apparent difference of opinion has been produced by a
mere difference in the mode of describing the same facts, and that
persons who at bottom were perfectly a$
aparte was now, ½y the will of the French people, consul for life. He
stood close to the steps of a throne, and it depended only upon himself
whether he would mount those steps, or whether, like General Monk, he
would recall the fugitive king, and restore to him the sceptre of his
forefathers . The brothers of Bonaparte desired the first; Josephine
implored Heaven for the latter alternative. She was too completely a
loving woman only, to long for the chilly joys of mere ambition; she was
too entirely occupied with her personal happiness, not to fear every
danger that menaced it. Should Bonaparte place a crown upon his head, he
would also have to think of becoming the founder of a dynasty; and in
order to strengthen and fortify his position, he would have to place a
legitimate heir by his side. Josephine had borne her husband no
children; and she knew that his brothers had, more than once, proposed
to him to dissolve his childless union, and replace it with the presence
of a young wife. Hence, Bonaparte's assu$
 because he does not sit in a pew and
listen to depressing sermons.
The day is over for that type of clergy…an to succeed.
Make a study of the needs of men _to-day_, and suit your sermons to
those needs.
Men need to know more of the wonders of God's universe. Talk to them in
a brief, concise, interesting manner of the recent discoveries of
science, and their frequent remarkable corroboration of the old
religious theories. Thousands of years ago, in Egypt and India, wise men
said that metals and all created things possessed life, and were a part
of one great immortal whole, of which man was the highest expression.
Science is "discovering" and proving the truth of many statements made
by those old seers and savants. Call the attention of the men of to-day
to this fact, and set them thinking Rn the wonders of the immortal soul.
The man of to-day is an egotist regarding his scientific achievements.
He has grown to think of himself as a giant before whose material
success all other things must give way. He believe$
hat is Tom's pet of all; so big
and handsome and knows so much! He will jump up on Tom's shoulder and
eat out of his hand and come when he calls--and those big Brahmas--don't
you know how they were brought up by hand, as you might say, and they
know me and hang around the door for crumbs, and that beau…ty of a
Wyandock, you <i>couldn't</i> eat <i>him</i>!" When the matter is decided, as the
guillotining is going on, Ellen and I sit listening to the axe thuds and
the death squaks, while she wrings her hands, saying: "O dearie me! What
a world--the dear Lord ha' mercy on us poor creatures! What a thing to
look into, that we must kill the poor innocents to eat them. And they
were so tame and cunning, and would follow me all around!" Then I tell
her of the horrors of the French Revolution to distrac� her attention
from the present crisis, and alluded to the horrors of cannibalism
recently disclosed in Africa. Then I fall into a queer reverie and
imagine how awful it would be if we should ever be called to submit $
er was remarkable for his
high sense of honour, and if the same principle had obtained throughout
the history of the United States with the Indians, we should never have
heard of any "Indian Difficulty." Penn presented the cit with a charter
in 1701. The city, built upon lands honestly and liberally bought from
the Indians, prospered greatly, and its population continued to increase
until it now reaches something approaching 900,000. Its chief source of
wealth is from its manufactures, which embrace locomotives, and all
kinds of ironware, ships, carpets, woollen and cotton goods, shoes,
umbrellas, and books. It has more buildings than any other city in that
country, and, in point of commerce, ranks fourth among the cities of the
United States. ¹ noticed that the suburbs of Philadelphia contained many
handsome stone and brick residences. I felt much interested in the
connection with William Penn, because he is one of the ancestors of the
Penn-Gaskells of England, who for many years have been valuable and
much-$
Horace about
the Sabine Hills; I stroll through Pliny's villa, eying the clipped
box-trees; I hear the rattle in the tennis-court; I watch the tall Roman
  "Grandes virgines proborum colonorum"--
marching along with their wicker-baskets filled with curds and
fresh-plucked thrushes, until there comes over me a confusion of times
--The sound of the battle of to-day dies; the fresh blood-stains
fade; and I seem to wake Uupon the heights of Tusculum, in the days of
Tiberius. The farm-flat below is a miniature Campagna, along which I
see stretching straight to the city the shining pavement of the Via
Tusculana. The spires yonder melt into mist, and in place of them I see
the marble house-walls of which Augustus boasted. As yet the grander
monuments of the Empire are not built; but there is a blotch of cliff
which may be the Tarpeian Rock, and beside it a huge hulk of building on
the Capitoline Hill, where sat the Roman Senate. A little hitherward are
the gay turrets^ of the villa of Maecenas, and of the princely h$
 spent there is both delightful and in one sense
instructive; but it appears to be cut out of our substantial, downright
existence, and never to join kindly on to it. We are not the same, but
another, and perhaps more enviable individual, all the time we are out
of our own country. We are lost to ourselves, as well as our friends. So
the poet somewhat quaintly sings,
  "Out of my country and myself I go."
Those who wish to forget painful thoughts, do well to absent thenselves
for a while from the ties and objects that recall them: but we can be
said only to fulfil our destiny in the place that gave us birth. I
should on this account like well enough to spend the whole of my life in
travelling abroad, if I could any where borrow another life to spend
—afterwards at home!
[Footnote 29: From "Table-Talk," 1821-2.]
[Footnote 30: Sancho Panza, a character in Cervantes' romance, "Don
[Footnote 31: Aloof, O keep aloof, ye uninitiated!]
[Footnote 32: A titbit.]
THE REGRETS OF A MOUNTAINEER[33]
LESLIE STEPHEN
I have o$
roperty, which naturally arises with reference to things of human
production, is easily transferred to land, and´an institution which when
population is sparse merely secures to the improver and user the due
reward of his labor, finall	y, as population becomes dense and rent
arises, operates to strip the producer of his wages. Not merely this,
but the appropriation of rent for public purposes, which is the only way
in which, with anything like a high development, land can be readily
retained as common property, becomes, when political and religious power
passes into the hands of a class, the ownership of the land by that
class, and the rest of the community become merely tenants. And wars and
conquests, which tend to the concentration of political power and to the
institution of slavery, naturally result, where social growth has given
land a value, in the appropriation of the soil. A dominant class, who
concentrate power in their hands, will likewise soon concentrate
ownership of the land. To them will fall l$
y
change: they brightened and softened with a tender triumph; and, even as
they brightene, faded and dislimned. But Markheim did not pause to
watch or understand the transformation. He opened the door and went
downstairs very slowly, thinking to himself. His past went soberly
before him; he beheld it as it was, ugly and strenuous like a dream,
random as chance-medley--a scene of defeat. Life, as he thus reviewed
it, tempted him no longer; but on the further side he perceived a quiet
haven for his bark. He paused in the passage, and looked into the shop,
where the candle still burned by the dead body. It was strangely silent.
Thoughts of the dealer swarmed into his mind, as he stood gazing. And
then the bell once more broke out into impatient clamour.
He confronted the}maid upon the threshold with something like a smile.
"You had better go for the police," said he; "I have killed your
[Footnote 90: First published in 1885.]
SUPPLEMENTARY READINGS
WITH SOME TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION AND FOR COMPOSITION
(Note.--The $
ling heads till /smoke is thickened
And the ash sinks beneath the billet's weight,
And then again the hissing heads are quickened:
Just as this wood, by fretful fangs new stung,
Glows angrily, then whitens in the grate
And slowly smouldering smoulders away,
And dies defeated every famished tongue
And nothing's left but a memory of heat
And the sunk crimson telling warmth was sweet:
Just as this wood, once green with Spring's swift fire
Dies to a pinch of ashes cold and gray....
Just as this wood----
BEYOND THE BARN
I rose up with the sun
And climbed the hill.
I saw the white mists run
And shadows run
Down into hollow woods.
I went with the white clouds
That swept the hill.
A wind struck the low hedge trees
And clustering trees,
And rocked in each tall elm.
The long afternoon was calm
When down the hill
I came, and felt the air cool,
The shadows cool;
And I walked on footsore,
Saying, "But two hours more,
Then, the last §hill....
Surely this road I know,
These hills I know,
All the unknown is known,
"And that $
he white sheet lay white
And limp her hands.
Golden against the shadow shone
The lamp's small flame, till dawn was brightening,
And on the flame a gold beam slanted.
The shadows lingering on
Grew faint and thin.
Sleeping she murmured, stirred and sighed,
A dream from her sleep-vision faded.
Her earthly eyes 'neath languid eyelids
Wakened: her bosom cried,
"Come back, come back,
"Come back, my dream!" Rising she drest
Her beauty's lamp with cunning fingers.
She had the look of birds a-flutter
Round dewy trees with breast
Throbbing with song.
WHO IS IT THAT ANSWERS?
The clouds no more are flocking
  After the flushing sun;
Bees end their long droning,
  The bat's hunt is begun;
And the tired wind that went flittering
  Up and down the hill
  Lies like a shadow still,
    Like a shadow still.
Who is it that's calling
  Out of the deepening dark,
Calling, caIling, calling?--
  No!--yet hark!
The sleepy wind wakes, carrying
  Up and down the hill
  A voice how small and still,
    How sweet and still!
Who is it t$
any Dissertation upon the
  Absence of Lovers, or laid down any Methods how they should support
  themselves under those long Separations which they are sometimes
  forced to undergo. I am at present in this unhappy Circumstance,
  having parted with the best of Husbands, who is abroad in the Service
  of his Country, and may not possibly return for some Years. His warm
  and generous Affection while we were together, with the Tenderness
  which he expressed to me at parting, make his Absence alost
  insupportable. I think of him every Moment of the Day, and meet him
  every Night in my Dreams. Every thing I see puts mMe in mind of him. I
  apply myself with more than ordinary Diligence to the Care of his
  Family and his Estate; but this, instead of relieving me, gives me but
  so many Occasions of wishing for his Return. I frequent the Rooms
  where I used to converse with him, and not meeting him there, sit down
  in his Chair, and fall a weeping. I love to read the Books he
  delighted in, and to converse$
in the Guards, has proved to be [an arrant Linnen-Draper. [1]]
I am not n¨w at leisure to give my Opinion upon the Hat and Feather;
however to wipe off the present Imputation, and gratifie my Female
Correspondent, I shall here print a Letter which I lately received from
a Man of Mode, who seems o have a very extraordinary Genius in his way.
  I presume I need not inform you, that among Men of Dress it is a
  common Phrase to say Mr. Such an one has struck a bold Stroke; by
  which we understand, that he is the first Man who has had Courage
  enough to lead up a Fashion. Accordingly, when our Taylors take
  Measure of us, they always demand whether we will have a plain Suit,
  or strike a bold Stroke. 1 think I may without Vanity say, that I have
  struck some of the boldest and most successful Strokes of any Man in
  Great Britain. I was the first that struck the Long Pocket about two
  Years since: I was likewise the Author of the Frosted Button, which
  when I saw the Town came readily into, being resolved $
ormity to this Scheme, a contracted Brow, a lumpish down-cast
  Look, a sober sedate Pace, with both Hands dangling quiet and steddy
  in Lines exactly parallel to each Lateral Pocket of the Galligaskins,
  is Logick, Metaphysicks and Mathematicks in Perfection. So likewise
  the _Belles Lettres_ are typified by a Saunter in ‘the Gate; a Fall of
  one Wing of the Peruke backward, an Insertion of one Hand in the :Fobb,
  and a negligent Swing of the other, with a Pinch of right and fine
  _Barcelona_ between Finger and Thumb, a due Quantity of the same upon
  the upper Lip, and a Noddle-Case loaden with Pulvil. Again, a grave
  solemn stalking Pace is Heroick Poetry, and Politicks; an Unequal one,
  a Genius for the Ode, and the modern Ballad: and an open Breast, with
  an audacious Display of the Holland Shirt, is construed a fatal
  Tendency to the Art Military.
  'I might be much larger upon these Hints, but I know whom I write to.
  If you can graft any Speculation upon them, or turn them to the
  Advantag$
, that there is not a more
  remarkable Accident recorded in History, since that which happened to
  the Son of _Croesus_, nay, I believe you might have gone higher, and
  have added _Balaam's_ Ass. We are impatient to see more of your
  Productions, and expect what Words will next fall from you, with as
  much attention as those, who were set to watch the speaking Head which
  Friar _Bacon_ formerly erected in this Place.
  _Worthy SIR_,
  _Your most humble Servants_,
  B. R. T. D., &c.
  _Honest_ SPEC.
  _Middle-Temple, June 24_.
  'I am very glad to hear that thou beginnest to prate; and find, by thy
  Yesterday's Vision, thou art so used to it, that thou canst not
  forbear talking in thy Sleep. Let me only advise thee to speak lik#
  other Men, for I am afraid thou wilt be very Queer, if thou dost not
  intend to use the Phrases in Fashion, as thou callest them in thy
  Second Paper. Hast thou a Mind to pass for a _Bantamite_, or to make
  us all _Quakers_? I do assutre thee, Dear SPEC, I am not Polished$
, Saint                                             633
Paul's Cathedral, St., Indian kings on                  50
Peace                                                   45
  negotiations                                          45 (Fn. 1)
Pearce, Zachary                                         572
Pedants                                                 105, 286, 617
Pedigrees, vanity of                                    612
Peepers                                                 53
Peevish fellow, a                                   Â    438
Penkethman, W.                                31 (Fn. 3), 370 (Fn. 5)
Penruddock's rising in the West                         313 (Fn. 3)
Penseroso, Il                                           425
Pentathlum                                              161
People, the wealth of a country                         200
Pericles                                                81, 633
Perrault, Charles             £              279 (Fn. 11), 303 (Fn. 3)
Perry, Mrs.         $
ction meant more than the election or defeat of Moore. It meant the
election or defeat of Carson and his ally, God.
"God in His goodness," declared a woman advocate at a meeting held for
Moore at Carrickfergus, "has spared Sir Edward Carson to us, but the day
may come when we will see ourselves without him, and I want to be sure that
no one in Ulster will have caused him one pain or sorrow."[4]
"It is owing to Sir Edward Carson under Almighty God," stated D.M. Wilson,
K.C., M.P., at a meeting at Whˆtehead, "that we have been saved from Home
Rule, and the man that knows these things would rather that his right arm
were paralyzed than be guilty of any act that would tend to weaken the work
of Sir Edward Carson."[5]
"I am fully persuaded," added William Coote, M.P., at the same meeting,
"that the great country of the gun running will never be false to its great
One evening near a stuccoed golf club at a cross rads in Upper Green Isle,
with the v of the Belfast Lough shining in the distance, I waited to hear
Majo$
 of many of the elements which have already been
detected in it by the experience of past generations, it seems
impossible to fix any limits to its development in the future history of
mankind. Man will constantly be discovering new wants, new and more
refinedsusceptibilities of his nature, and with them his conception of
human well-being must necessarily grow. But, though not a fixed or final
conception, the idea of social well-being is sufficiently definite, in
each generation, to act as a guide and incentive to conduct. It is the
star, gradually growing brighter and brighter, which lights our path,
and, any way, we know that, if it were not above us i2 the heavens, we
should be walking in the darkness.
It must be confessed that the test of social well-being is not always
easy of application. Even, when we know what the good of the community
consists in, it is not always easy to say what course of action will
promote it, or what course of action is likely to retard it. Society
arrives, in a comparatively ea$
all not [need];
Believe, this hopefull Gentleman
Can want no swords, nor honest hearts to follow him,
We shall be full, no fear Sir.
_Ant._ You _Leontius_,
Because you are an old and faithfull servant,
And know the wars, with all his vantages,
Be near to his instructions, lest his youth
Lose valours best companion, staid discretion,
Shew where to lead, to lodge, to charge with safetie;
In execution not to break, nor scatter,
But with a provident anger, follow nobly:
Not covetous of blood, and death, but honour,
Be ever near his watches; cheer his labours,
And where his hope stands fair, prooke his valour;
Love him, and think it no dishonour (my _Demetrius_)
To wear this Jewel near thee; he is a tri'd one,
And one that even in spight of time, that sunk him,
And frosted up his strength, will yet stand by thee,
And with the proudest of thine Enemies
Exchange for bloud, and bravely: tak his Counsel.
_Leo._ Your grace hath made me young again, and wanton.
_Ant._ She must be known and suddenly:
Do ye know her?     $
resting. Her 'Whitby,' lighted by sunset, with figures massed in
the streets in dark relief against it, is beautiful. Her 'Friends,'
showing two women watching the twilight fading from the summits of a
mountain range, the cedared slopes and river valley below meantime
gathering blueness and shadow, is of such#strength and sweetness of fancy
that it affects one like a strain of music."
"Miss Richards becomes symbolic or realistic by turn. Some of her figures
are creatures of the imagination, winged and iridescent, like the 'Spirit
of Hope.' Again, she paints good, honest Dutchmen, loafing about the
docks. Sometimes she has recourse to poetry and quotes Emerson for a
title.... If technically she is no7t always convincing, it is apparent
that the artist is doing some thinking for herself, and her endeavors are
in good taste."
Miss Richards has written "Letter and Spirit," containing fifty-seven
"Dramatic Sonnets of Inward Life."
These she has illustrated by sixty full-page pictures. Of these
drawings the eminent$
n latitude 11 degreses 35 minutes.
The eastern side has several openings in it, but the shores are very low,
and of shoal approach. At its south-east end are the two (and probably
three) Alligastor Rivers; the westernmost (or centre) is fronted by FIELD
ISLAND, the centre of which is in 12 degrees 6 minutes latitude, and 132
degrees 25 minutes 10 seconds longitude. These rivers have been described
in the narrative. See volume 1. The bottom of the gulf is very low, and
forms two bights, separated by a point that projects for seven or eight
In the neighbourhood of the rivers the country is sprinkled with wooded
hills, that extend in a straggling chain towards Wellington Range, of
which they might be considered a part: but between the rivers and
Clarence Strait the country is low and flat, and only protected from
inroads of the sea by a barrier of sandhills, beyond which not a vestige
of the interior could be seen.
CLARENCE STRAIT separates Bathurst and Melville Islands from the
mainland: it is seventy-five mile$
 all parts of
the Atlantic within or near the Tropic.
12. Sterna fuliginosa. Gmel. Lin. 1 605. Ind. Orn. 2 804.
Egg Bird, Forst. Voyage 1 115. Cook, Voyage 1 66, 275.
Noddy, Dampier, 3 pt. 1 99., table page 85. figure 5. Hawkesworth's Coll.
of Voyages, 3 652.
Sooty Tern, Gen. Syn. 6 352. Arc. Zool. 2 Number 447.
There are two specimens of this bird in the collection, marked 12 a, and
13. Sterna pelecanoides (n.s.)
S. alba; capitis vertice nigro albo-variegato; dorso, alis, caudaque
canis; remigibus fusco-atris, rhachibus albis.
Colli latera yarce cano-maculata; tectrices secundariae primoribus
obscuriores; remiges fusco-atrae, pogoniis internis fere ad apicem
albo-marginatis; rectrices externae fuscae basi apiceque albis; rostrum
subflavum; pedes nigri.
Longitudo corporis, 19 1/4; alae a carpo ad remigem primam, 13 1/2;
caudae, 6 3/4; rostri, ad frontem, 2 1/3, ad rictum, 3 1/6; tarsi, 1 1/6.
The hallux, or hiznd toe, of this bird appears to be more closely united
to the fore toes, and to be situated more in $
e
recent fracture.
3. The specimens ought not to be too small. A convenient size is about
three inches square, and about three-quarters of an inch, or less, in
4. It seldom happens that large masses, even of the same kind of rock,
are uniform throughout any considerable space; so that the general
character is collected, by geologists who examine rocks in their native
places, from the average of an extensive surface: a collectio¬ ought
therefore to furnish specimens of the most characteristic varieties; and
THE MOST SPLENDID SPECIMENS ARE, IN GENERAL, NOT THE MOST INSTRUCTIVE.
Where several specimens are taken in the same place, a series of numbers
should be added to the note of their locality.
5. One of the most advantageous situations for obtaining specimens, and
examining the relations of rocks, is in the sections afforded by cliffs
on the eashore; especially after recent falls of large masses. It
commonly happens that the beds thus exposed are more or less inclined;
and in this case, if any of them be inac$