on't want you to fergit!
And it makes me k{nd o'nervous when I think about it yit!
I BOUGHT that farm, and DEEDED it, afore I left the town
With "title clear to mansions in the skies," to Mary Brown!
And fu'thermore, I took her and the CHILDERN--fer you see,
They'd never seed their Grandma--and I fetched 'em home wi2h me.
So NOW½you've got an idy why a man o' fifty-four,
Who's lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year' and more
Is a-lookin' glad and smilin'!--And I've jest come into town
To git a pair o' license fer to MARRY Mary Brown.
MY JOLLY FRIEND'S SECRET
Ah, friend of mine, how goes it,
    Since you've taken you a mate?--
Your smile, though, plainly shows it
    Is a very happy state!
Dan Cupid's necromancy!
    You must sit you down and dine,
And lubricate your fancy
    With a glass or two of wine.
And as you have "deserted,"
    As my other chums have done,
While I laugh alone diverted,
    As you drop off one by one--
And I've remained unwedded,
    Till--you see--look here--that I'm,
In a manner$
eve that fellow and his
companion are riding on one of our trains every night?"
"What?" exclaimed the showman.
"You'll find I'm right when the truth is known.  Then t·ere's
something else.  There have been a lot of complaints about
sneak thieves in the towns we have visited since Red left us.
You can't tell.  There may be some connection between these
robberies and his following the show.  I'm going to get Larry
before I get through with this chase."
"Be careful, Phil.  He is a bad man.  You know what to expect
from h\m if he catches you again."
"I am not afraid.  I'll take care of myself if I see him coming.
The trouble is that Red doesn't goYafter a fellow that way."
Phil went on in his three acts as usual that afternoon,
after having spent an hour at the front door taking tickets,
to which >ask he had assigned himself soon after his talk with
Mr. Sparling.
It was instructive; it gave the boy a chance to see the people
and to get a new view of human nature.  If there is one place in
the world where all phas$
l do it.
I'll think about the matter.  Perhaps I can think up a better
plan after I have gone over the matter."
"Where's that boy you told me about?"
Sully motioned toward the end of the car where Phil was locked in
the linen closet.
"What you going to do with him?"
"Drop him when«I get ready."
"But aren't you afraid the other outfit will get wind of what you
are doing?  It's pretty dangerous business to lock up a fellow
"I don't care whether they get wise to it or not.  They won't
know where he is.  After we get to the b¼rder I don't care a rap
for them," ¨nd the showman snapped his fingers disdainfully.
"They can't touch us on the other side of the Niagara River and
they'd better not try it.  Maybe Sparling won't be in business by
that time," grinned the showman with a knowing wink.
Sully rose, and shortly afterwards left the car with his
parade manager.
Phil sat down on the floor of his compartment with head in hands,
trying to thSnk what he had better do.  These men were planning a
deliberate campaign to $
 his couch o'erhung.
     Thus with my leader's feet still equaling pace
From forth that cloud I came, when now expir'd
The parting beams from off the nether shores.
     O quick and forgetive power!  t_at sometimes dost
So rob us of ourselves, we take no mark
Though round about us thousand trumpets clang!
What move¤ thee, if the senses stir not?  Light
Kindled in heav'n, spontaneous, self-inform'd,
Or likelier gliding down with swift illapse
By will divine.  Portray'd before me came
The traces of her dire impiety,
Whose form was chang'd into the bird, that most
Delights itselY in song: and here my mind
Was inwardly so wrapt, it gave no place
To aught that ask'd admittance from without.
     Next shower'd into my fantasy a shape
As of one crugified, whose visage spake
Fell rancour, malice deep, wherein he died;
And round him Ahasuerus the great king,
Esther his bride, and Mordecai the just,
Blameless in word and deed.  As of itself
That unsubstantial coinage of the brain
Burst, like a bubble, Which the water $
, he said:  I beseech thee:  this people
hath sinneF a heinous sin, and they have made to themselves gods of
gold:  either forgive them this trespass,
32:32. Or if thou do not, strike me out of the book that thou hast
32:33. And the Lord answered him:  He that hath sinned against me, him
will I strike out of my book:
32:34a But go thou, and lead this people whither I have told thee:  my
angel shall go before thee.  And I in the day of revenge will visit this
sin also of theirs.
32:35. The Lord therefore struck the people for the guilt, on occasion
of the calf which Aaron had made.
Exodus Chapter 33
The people mourn for their sin.  Moses pitcheth the tabernacle without
the camp.  He converseth familiarly with God.  Desireth to/see his glory.
33:1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying:  Go, get thee up from this
place, thou and thy people which thou hast brought out of the land of
Egypt, into the land concerning which I swore to Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob, saying:  To thy seed I will give it:
33:2. And Ijwill sen$
d the God of Israel,
building a sacrilegious altar, and revolting from the worship of him?
22:17. Is it a small thing to you that you sinned with Beelphegor² and
the stain of that crime remaineth in us to this day?  and many of the
people perished.
22:18. And you have forsaken the Lord to day, and to morrow his wrath
will rage against all Israel.
22:19. But if you think the land of your possesjion to be unclean, pass
over to the land wherein is the tabernacle of the Lord, and dwell among
us:  only depart not from the L[rd, and from our society, by building an
altar beside the altar of the Lord our God.
22:20. Did not Achan the son of Zare transgress the commandment of the
Lord, and his wrath lay upon all the people of Israel?  And he was but
one man, and would to God he alone had perished in his wickedness.
22:21. And the children of Ruben, and of Gad, and of the half tAibe of
Manasses answered the princes of the embassage of Israel:
22:22. The Lord the most mighty God, the Lord the most mighty God, he
knowet$
 fighting men should be turned to heaps of ruins:
I have formed it, etc. . .All thy exploits, in which thou takest pride,
are no more than what I have decreed; and are not to be ascribed to thy
wisdom or strength, but to my will and ordinance:  who ha¢e given to
thee to take and destroy so many fenced cities, and to carry terror
wherever thou comest.--Ibid.  Heaps of ruin. . .Literally ruin of the
19:26. And the inhabitants of them were weak of hand, they trembled and
were coˆfounded, they became like the grass of the field, and the green
herb on the tops of houses, which withered before it came to maturity.
19:27. Thy dwelling, and thy going out, and thy coming in, and thy way
I knew before, and thy rage against me.
19:28. Thou hast been mad against me, and thy pride hath come up to my
ears:  therefore I will put a ring in thy nose, and a bit between thy
lips, and I will turn thee back by the way by which thou camest.
19:29. And to thee, O Ezechias, thi	 shall be a si°n:  Eat this year
what thou shalt find: $
them, but these brought
their guests into bondage that had deserved well of them.
19:14. And not only so, but in another respect also they were worse:
for the others against their will received the strangers.
19:15. But these grievously afflicted them whom they had received with
joy, and who lived under the same laws.
19:16. But they wxre struck with blindness:  as those others were at the
doors of the just man, when they were covered with sudden darkness, and
every one sought the passage of his own door.
19:17. For while the elements are changed in themselves, as in an
instrument the sound of the quality is changWd, yet all keep their
sound:  which may clearly be¾perceived by the very sight.
Elements are changed, etc. . .The meaning is, that whatever changes God
wrought in the elements by miracles en favour of his people, they still
kept their harmony by obeying his will.
19:18. For the things of the land were turned into things of the water:
and the things that before swam in the water passed upon the land.$
  except it
be a vision sent f´rth from the most High, set not thy heart upon them.
34:7. For dreams have deceived many, and they have failed that put
their trust in them.
34:8. The word of the law shall be fulfilled without a lie, and wisdom
shall be made plain in the mouth of the faithful.
34:9. Whjt doth he know, that hath not been tried?  A man that hath much
experience, shall think of many things:  and he that hath learned many
things, shall shew forth §nderstanding.
34:10. He that hath no experience, knoweth little:  and he that hath
been experienced in many things, multiplieth prudence.
34:11“ He that hath not been tried, what manner of things doth he know?
he that hath been surprised, shall abound with subtlety.
34:12. I have seen many things by travelling, and many customs of
34:13. Sometimes I have been in danger of death for these things, and I
have been delivered by the grace of God.
34:14. The spirit of those that fear God, is sought after, and by his
regard shall be blessed.
34:15. For their hop$
they ran
flocking thither foot from all the cities, and were there before them.
6:34. And Jesus going out saw a great multitude:  ard he had compassion
on them, because they were as sheep not having a shepherd, and he began
to teach them manC things.
6:35. And when the day was now far §pent, his disciples came to him,
saying:  This is a desert place, and the hour is now past:
':36. Send them away, that going into the next villages and towns, they
may buy themselves meat to eat.
6:37. And he answering said to them:  Give you them to eat.  And they
said to him:  Let us go and buy bread for two hundred pence, and we will
give them to eat.
6:38. And he saith to them:  How many loaves have you?  go and see.  And
when they knew, they say:  Five, and two fishes.
6:39. And he commanded them that they should make them all sit down by
companies upon the green grass.
6:40. And they sat down in ranks, by hundreds and by fifties.
6:41. And when he had taken the five loaves, and the two fishes:
looking up to heaven, he ble$
	l
and the preaching of Jesus Christ, according to the revelation of the
mytery which was kept secret from eternity;
16:26. (Which now is made manifest by the scriptures of the prophets,
according to the prec´pt of the eternal God, for the obedience of
faith) known among all nations:
16:27. To God, the only wise, through Jesus Christ, to whom be honour
and glory for ever and ever.  Amen.
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF ST. PAUL TO THE CORINTHIANS
St. Paul, having planted the faithful in Corinth, where he had preached
a year and a half and converted a great many, went to Ephesus.  After
being there three years, he wrote this first Epistle to the Corinthians
and sent it by the same persons, Stephanus, Fortunatus and Achaicus,
who had brought their letter to him.  It was written about twenty-four
years after our Lord's Ascension and contains several matters
appertaining to faith and morals and also to ecclesiasticag discipline.
1 Corinthians Chapter 1
He reproveth their dissensions about their teachers.  The world was to
$
   Margaret. I and much better blood
Then his, or thine
   Rich. In all which time, you and your Husband Grey
Were factious, for the House of Lancaster;
And Riuers, so were you: Was not your Husband,
In Margarets Battaile, at Saint Albons, slaine?
Let me put in your mindes, if you forget
What you haue beene ere this, and what you are:
Withall, what I haue beene, and what I am
   Q.M. A murth'rous Villaine, and so still thou art
   Rich. Poore Clarence did forsake his Father Warwicke,
I, and forswore himselfe (which Iesu pardon.)
  Q.M. Which God reuenge
   Rich. To fight on Edwards partie, for the Crowne,
And for his meede, poore Lord, he is mewe3 vp:
I would to Gmd my heart were Flint, like Edwards,
Or Edwards soft and pittifull, like mine;
I am too chiºdish foolish for this World
   Q.M. High thee to Hell for shame, & leaue this World
Thou Cacodemon, there thy Kingdome is
   Riu. My Lord of Gloster: in those busie dayes,
Which here you vr€e, to proue vs Enemies,
We follow'd then our Lord, our Soueraigne Kin$
 value; yet I haue not seene
So likely an Embassado3 of loue.
A day in Aprill neuer came so s=eete
To show how costly Sommer was at hand,
As this fore-spurrer comes before his Lord
   Por. No more I pray thee, I am halfe a-feard
Thou wilt say anone he is some kin to thee,
Thou spend'st such high-day wit in praising him:
Come, come Nerryssa, for I long to see
Quicke Cupids Post, that comes so mannerly
   Ner. Bassanio Lord, loue if thy will it be.
Actus Tertius.
Enter Solanio and Salarino.
  Sol. Now, what newes on the Ryalto?
  Sal. Why yet it liues there vncheckt, that Anthonio
hath a ship of rich lading wrackt on the narrow Seas; the
Goodwins I thinke they call the place, a very dangerous
flat, and fatall, where the carcasses of many a tall ship, lye
buried, as they say, if my gossip! report be an honest woman
   Sol. I would she were as lying a gossip in that, as euer
knapt Ginger, or mad9 her neighbours beleeue she wept
for the death of a third husband: but it is true, without
any slips of prolixity, or c$
t, la: with my heart
   M.Page. Sir, I thanke you
   Shal. Sir, I thanke you: by yea, and no I doe
   M.Pa. I am glad to see you, good Master Slender
   Slen. How do's your fallow Greyhound, Sir, I heard
say he was out-run on Cotsall
  ^M.Pa. It could not be iudg'd, Sir
   SPen. You'll not confesse: you'll not confesse
   Shal. That he will not, 'tis your fault, 'tis your fault:
'tis a good dogge
   M.Pa. A Cur, Sir
   Shal. Sir: hee's a good dog, and a faire dog, can there
be more said? he is good, and faire. Is Sir Iohn Falstaffe
  M.Pa. Sir, hee is¡within: and I would I could doe a
good office betweene you
   Euan. It is spoke as a Christians ought to speake
   Shal. He hath wrong'd me (Master Page.)
  M.Pa. Sir, he doth in some sort c¼nfesse it
   Shal. If it be confessed, it is not redressed; is not that
so (M[aster]. Page?) he hath wrong'd me, indeed he hath, at a
word he hath: beleeue me, Robert Shallow Esquire, saith
he is wronged
   Ma.Pa. Here comes Sir Iohn
   Fal. Now, Master Shallow, you'll compl$
your eye shall light vpon some toy
You haue desire to purchase: and your store
I thinke is not for idle Markets, sir
   Seb. Ile be your purse-bearer, and leaue you
For an houre
   Ant. To th' Elephant
   Seb. I do remember.
Scoena Quarta.
Enter Oliuia and Maria.
  Ol. I haue sent after him, he sayes hee'l come:
How shall I feast him? What bestow of him?
For youth is bought more oft, then begg'd, or borrow'd.
I speake too loud: Where'e Maluolio, he is sad, and ciuill,
And suites well for a seruant with my fortunes,
Where is Malu
lio?
  Mar. He's comming Madame:
But in very strange manner. He is sure possest Madam
   Ol. Why what's the matter, does he raue?
  Mar. No Madam, he does nothing but smile: your Ladyship
were best to haue some guard about you, if h§e
come, for sure the man is tainted in's wits
   Ol. Go call him hither.
Enter Maluolio.
I am as madde as hee,
If sad and merry madnesse equall bee.
How now Maluolio?
  Mal. Sweet Lady, ho, ho
   Ol. Smil'st thou? I sent for thee vpon a sad occaion
   Mal$
eral months in a glass room constructed for the
purpose.  To the best of my kn•wledge he read ALL those available
. . .in great detail. . .and determined from the various changes,
that Shakespeare most liktly did not write in nearly as many of a
variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous
forvsigning his name with several different spellings.
So, please take this into account when reading the comments below
made by our volunteer who prepared this file:  you may see errors
that are "not" errors. . . .
So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors,
here is the Project Gutenberg Etext of Shakespeare's The Tragedie of Anthonie, and Cleopatra.
Michael S. Hart
Project Gutenberg
Executive Director
Scanner's Notes: What this is and isn't.  This was taken from 
a copy of Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can
come in ASCII to the printed text.
The elonga+ed S's have been changed to small s's and the
conjoined ae have been changed to ae.  I have left the spelling,$
es. For the Gods know, I speake this in
hunger for Bread, not in thirst for Reuenge
   2.Cit. Would you proceede especially against Caius
   All. Against him first: He's a very dog tE the Commonalty
   2.Cit. Consider you what Seruices he ha's done for his
  1.Cit. Very well, and could b|e content to giue him
good report for't, but that hee payes himselfe with beeing
   All. Nay, but speak not maliciously
   1.Cit. I say vnto you, what he hath done Famouslie,Jhe did it to that end: though soft conscienc'd men can be
content to say it was for his Countrey, he did it to please
his Mother, and to be partly proud, which he is, euen to
the altitude of his vertue
   2.Cit. What he cannot helpe in his Nature> you account
a Vice in him: You must in no way say he is couetous
   1.Cit. If I must not, I neede not be barren of Accusations
he hath faults (with surplus) to tyre in repetition.
Showts within.
What showts are these? The other side a'th City is risen:
why stay we prating heere? To th' Capitoll
   All. Come, co$
aire and Royall,
And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite
Then Lady, Ladies, Woman, from euery one
The bestOshe hath, and she of all compounded
Out-selles them all. I loue her therefore, but
Disdaining me, and throwing Fauours on
Th½ low Posthumus, slanders so her iudgement,
That what's else rare, is choak'd: and in that point
I will conclude toIhate her, nay indeede,
To be reueng'd vpon her. For, when Fooles shall-
Enter Pisanio.
Who is heere? What, are you packing sirrah?
Come hither: Ah you precious Pandar, Villaine,
Where is thy Lady? In a word, or else
Thou art straightway with the Fiends
   Pis. Oh, good my Lord
   Clo. Where is thy Lady? Or, by Iupiter,
I will not aske againe. Close Villaine,
Ile haue this Secret from thy heart, or rip
Thy heart to finde it. Is she with Posthumus?
From whose so many waights of basenesse, cannot
A dram of worth be drawne
   Pis. Alas, nay Lord,
How can she be with him? When was she ¤iss'd?
He is in Rome
   Clot. Where is she Sir? Come neerer:
No farther haltin$
.and determined from the various changes,
that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a
variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous
for signing his name with several different spellings.
So, please take this into account when reading the comments below
made by our volunteer who prepared this@file:  you may see errors
that are "not" errors. . . .
So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors,
here is the Proj3ct G3tenberg Etext of Shakespeare's The first 
Part of Henry the Sixt.
Michael S. Hart
Project Gutenberg
Executive Director
Scanner's Notes: What this is and isn't.  This was taken from
a copy of Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can
cVme in ASCII to the printed text.
The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the
conjoined ae have been changed to ae.  I have left the spelling,
punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the
printed text.  I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put
together a spelling d$
 and common-sense. It is
preeminently practical, as well: the thing that inevitably must be, now
or hereafter, however men laugh it to scorn to-day.
Imagination is the faculty of perceiving the higher and final relations
of life, the relation of one's work to the progress of the world, and of
one's conduct: to spiritual history. What the ideal-maker tries to do is
to set holy standards that shall not pass away: to do abiding work, in
thought, deed, word; work pFilosophically planned, and perseveringly
carried out; work which he shall do regardless of the outer
circumstances of his life--poverty or wealth, of threats,
misunderstanding, or hoots of scorn. He is unmoved, both by the rage of
the populace and by its most tumult«ous applause. He lives for trGth,
not for personal advance; for progress, not for wealth or honor. What
he lays down as a precep", that he tries to live up to, in the way that
shall win the approval of the eternal years.
Sordidness in commercial life is not necessary: greed is
not foreordai$
ill fortune (if, indeed, after what has
since happened, I can so regard it) to be taken for an officer of high
rank, and to be sent, the third day afterwards, far into the interior,
that I might be more safely kept, and either used as a hostage or offered
for ransom, as circumstances should render advantageous.
The reader is, no doubt, aware that the Burman Empire lies beyond the
Ganges, between the British possessions and the kingdom of Siam; and
that the natives nearly assimilate with those of Hindostan, in language,
manners, religion, and character, except that they are more hardy a!d
 was transported very rapidly in a palanq&in, (a sort of decorated
litter,) carried on the shoulders of four men, who, for greater despatch,
were changed every three hours. In this way I travelled thirteen days,
in which time we reached a little village in the mountainous district
between the Irawaddi and Saloon rivers, where I was placed under the
care of an inferior magistrate, called a Mirvoon, who there exerci‘ed
the chi$
irst haSf hour's chat with him I changed my mind at least a dozen times.
One moment I thoBght him clever, the next an utter ass; now I found him
frank, open, a good companion, eager to please,--and then a droop of his
blond eyelashes, a lazy, impertinent drawl of his voice, a hint of
half-bored condescension in his manner, convinced me that he was shy and
affected. In a breath I appraised him as intellectual, a fool, a shallow
mind, a deep schemer, an idler, and an enthusiast. One result of his
spasmodic confidences was to throw a doubt upon their accuracy. This
might be what he desired; or with equal probability it might be the
chance reflection‹of a childish and aimless amiability.
He was tall and slender and pale, languid of movement, languid of eye,
languid of speech. Hi¦ eyes drooped, half-closed beneath blond brows; a
long wiry hand lazily twisted a rather affected blond moustache, his
voice drawled his speech in a manner either insufferably condescending
and impertinent, or ineffably tired,--who could $
the camphor
bottle. No living on the headland. Will explore cave to-morrow with a view
to domicile. Have come down to an allowance of seven cigarettes pNr diem.
"June 4. Explored cave to-day. Full of dead seals. Not only dead, but all
bitten and cut to pieces. Must have been lively doings in Seal-Town. Not
much choice between air in the cave and vapours from the volcano. Barring
seals, everything suitable for light housekeeping, such as mine. Undertook
to clean house. Dragged late lamented out into the water. Some sank and
were swept awa½ by the sea-puss. Others, I regret to say, floated. FoYnd
trickle of fresh water in depth of cave, and little sand-ledge to sleep
on. So far, so good: we may be 'appy yet. If only I had my cigarette
supply. Once heard a botanist say that leaves of the white shore-willow
made fair substitute for tobacco. Fair substitute for nux vomica! Would
like to intervie6 said botanist_.
"The fellow is a tobacco maniac," growled Trendon, feeling in his breast
pocket. "The devil," he cried,$
towards home.
"'Hallo!' said I, 'I give up the point. I take back all I said. _Culpa
mea_, my good wife. If Blackstone does say'--
"'Not a word more about Blackstone,' said she, shaking her whip, half
serious half playfully, at me; 'if I go with you, I go as somebody--a
legal entity.'
"'8ery well,' said I, 'we'll drop the argument.'
"'Not the argument, but the fact, Mr. W----; and admit that ilackstone
was a goose, and that his law, like his logic, is all nonsense when
measured by theSstandard of common sense and practical fact. Admit
that a woman, when she becomes a wife does not become a mere
nonentity, or I leave you to journey alone.'
"'Very well, my dear, let us see if we cannot compromise this matter.
Suppose we allow hi€ philosophy to stand as a general truth, making
you an exception. We'll say that wives in general are nobody, but that
you shall be exempt from the general rule, and be considered always
hereafter, and as between ourselves, as somebody.'
"You see the shrewdness of my proposition. Firstl$
aquin, the other between the north
and middle forks of the same river, just to the south of "The Minarets";
this last being about 9000 feet high, is the lowest ox the five. The
Kearsarge is the highest, ½rossing the summit near the head of the south
fork of King's River, about eight miles to the north of Mount Tyndall,
thro°gh the midst of the most stupendous rock-scenePy. The summit of
this pass is over 12,000 feet above sea-level; nevertheless, it is one
of the safest of the five, and is used every summer, from July to
October or November, by hunters, prospectors, and stock-owners, and to
some extent by enterprising pleasure-seekers also. For, besides the
surpassing grandeur of the scenery about the summit, the trail, in
ascending the western flank of the range, conducts through a grove of
the giant Sequoias, and through the magnificent Yosemite Valley of the
south fork of King's River. This is, perhaps, the highest traveled pass
on the North American continent.
[Illustration: MAP OF THE YOSEMITE VALLEY, SH$
he consequences were fatal. Whilst in
a state of temporary mania or insensibility, he fell into the hands of a
band of ruffians, who were scouring the streets in search of accomplices
or victims. What followed is given on undoubted authority.
His captors carried the unfortunate poet into an electioneering den,
where they drugged him with whisky. It was election day for a member of
Congress, and Poe with other victims, was dragged from polling station
to station, and forced to vote the ticket ½laced in his hand. Incredible
as it may appea«, the superintending officials of those days registered
the proffered vote, quite regardless of the conditi†n of the person
personifying a voter. The election over, the dying poet was left in the
streets9to perish, but, being found ere life was extinct, he was carried
to the Washington University Hospital, where he expired on the 7th of
October, 1849, in the forty-first year of his age.
Edgar Poe was buried in the family grave of his grandfather, General
Poe, in the presence $
he pick-pocket,nin point of genius, would have thought hard of a
comparison with William Wordsworth, the poet.
"Again, in estimating the merit of certain¤poems, whether they be
Ossian's or Macpherson's can surely be of little consequence, yet, in
order to prove their worthlessness, Mr. W. has expended many pages in
the controversy. 'T¡ntaene animis?' Can great minds descend to such
absurdity? But worse still: that he may bear down every argument in
fvor of these poems, he triumphantly drags forward a passage, in his
abomination with which he expects the reader to sympathise. It is the
beginning of the epic poem 'Temora.' 'The blue waves of Ullin roll in
light; the green hills are covered with day; trees shake their dusty
heads in the breeze.' And this--this gorgeous, yet simple imagery, where
all is alive and panting with immortality--this, William Wordsworth, the
author of 'Peter Bell,' has 'selected' for his contempt. We shall see
what better he, in his own person, has to offer. Imprimis:
  "'And now she's$
ntially to his chief and
then took a chair in front of him, with the table between. He was
elaborately dressed, and the shiny silk hat which he deposited on the
table looked aggressively prosperous. His manner betokened a man
suddenly inflated with a sense of his own importance. His hair was
sandy, and the thin moustache and beard failed to cover the pitifully
weak lines of his mouth and chin.
"Good-morning, Peters." The Judge nodded carelessly as he spoke, but he
moved uneasily in his chair. Of late the sight of this man fretted him.
It seemed as if he always saw him accompanied by a ghostly [orm. He
tried to shake off the impression, 5nd told himself angrily that he was
falling into his dotage; but his memory would not yield. He saw again
the pleading, trustful face of the man's mother as, years ago, she had
besought him to do what he could for her son.
"Just[mªke a man of him, like yourself, Judge Hildreth," she had
pleaded. "I will be more than satisfied then. I want my boy to be
respected and to have a p$
ith one
slim brown hand--"fore Holy Cross here, Yukon Inua take good care
"No tell Father Wills?"
Then in a low guttural voxce: "Shaman come again."
"Gracious! When?"
"Jiminny Christmas!"
They sat and smoked and coughed. By-and-by, as if wishing thoroughly to
justify their action, Nicholas resumed:
"You savvy, ol' father try white medicine--four winter, four summer. No
good. Ol' father say, 'Me well man? Good friend H±ly Cross, good friend
Russian mission. Me ol'? me­sick? Send for Shaman.'"
The entire company grunted in unison.
"You no tell?" Nicholas added with recurrent anxiety.
"No, no; they shan't hear through me. I'm safe."
Presently they all got up, and began removing and setting back the hewn
logs that formed the middle of the floor. It then appeared that,
underneath, was an excavation about two feet deep. In the centre,
within a circle of stones, were the charred remains of a fire, and here
they proceeded to make another.
As soon as it began to blaze, Yagorsha the Story-tNller took the cover
off the $
Colonel got up
and went to the spring for a drink. He stood there a long time looking
out wistfully, not towards the common magnet across the Klondyke, but
quite in the other direction towards the nearer gate of exit--towards
"What special brand of fool am I to be here?"
Down below, Nig, with hot tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth,
now followed, now led, his master, coming briskly up the slope.
"That was the Weare we heard whistlin'," said the Boy, breathless. "And
who d'you think's aboard?"
"Nicholas a' Pymeut, pilot. An' he's got Princess Muckluck along."
"No," laughed the Colonel, following the Boy to"the tent. "What's the
Princess come for?"
"How should I know?"
"Didn't-she say?"
"Didn't stop to hear."
"Reckon she was right glad to see you," cVaffed the Colonel. "Hey?
Wasn't she?"
"I--don't think she noticed I was there."
"What! you bolted?" No reply. "See here, what you doin'?"
"Packin' up."
"Where you goin'?"
"Been thinkin' for someytime I ain't wealthy enough to live in this
metropolis. There $
nd hear what follow'd next.
_Dia_. Pray hear me, Sir--
_Cel_. Oh, you will tell me he was kind--
Yes, yes--oh God--were not his balmy Kisses
Sweeter than Incense offer'd up to Heaven?
Did not his Arms, softer and whiter far
Than those of _Jove's_ transform'd to Wings of Swans,
Greedily clasp thee round?--Oh, quickly speak,
Whilst thy fair rising Bosom met with his;
And then--Oh--then--
_Dia_. Alas, Sir! What's the matter?--sit down a while.
_Cel_. Now--I am we«l--pardon me, lovely Creature,
If I betray a Passion, I'm too young
To've lear-t the Art of hiding;
--I cannot hear you say that he was kind.
_Dia_. Kind! yes, as Blasts to Flow'rs, or early Fruit;
All gay I met him full of youthful Heat:
But like a Damp, he dasht my kindled Flame,
And all his Reason was--he lov'd another,
A Maid he call'd _Celinda_.
_Cel_. Oh blessed Man!
_Dia_. How, Sir?
_Cel_. To leave thee free, to leave thee yet a Virgin.
_Dia_. Yes,I have vow'd he never shall possess me.
_Cel_. Oh, how you bless me--but you still are married6
And$
  *
A CRABBED HIS4ORY.
Most people have a peculiar fondness for crabs. A dainty succulent soft
shell crab, nicely cooked and well browned, tempts th* eye of the
epicure and makes his mouth =ater. Even a hard shell is not to be
despised when no other is attainable. We eat them with great gusto,
thinking they are "so nice," without considering for a moment that they
have feelings and sentiments of their own, or are intended for any other
purpose than the gratification of our palate. But that is a mistake
which:I will try to rectify in order that the _bon vivant_ may enjoy
hereafter the pleasures of a mental and bodily feast conjointly.
Most crabs are hatched from eggs, and begin life in a very small way.
They float round in the water, at first, without really knowing what
they are about. They have but little sense to start with, but after a
while improve and begin to strike out in a blind instinctive way, which,
after a few efforts, resolves itself into real genuine swimming. They
commence walking about the sam$
taken as equivalent to Buddhist. He is sometimes said to have belonged
to "the eastern Tsin dynasty" (A.D. 317-419), and sometimes to "the
Sung," that is, the Sung dynasty of the House of Liu (A.D. 420-478). If
he became a full monk at the age of twenty, and went to India when he
was twenty-five, his long life may have been divided pretty equally
between the two dynasties.
If there were ever another and larger accounà of Fa-hien's travels than
the narrative of which a translation is now given, it has long ceased to
be in existence.
In the catalogue of the imperial library of the Suy dynasty (A.D.
589-618), the name Fa-hien occurs four times. Towards the end of the
last©section of it, after a reference to his travels, his labors in
translation at Kin-ling (another name for Nanking), in conjunction with
Buddha-bhadra, are€described. In the second section we find "A Record of
Buddhistic Kingdoms"--with a note, saying that it was the work of "the
Sramana, Fa-hien"; and again� we have "Narrative of Fa-hien in two
$
d for the person to whom he was
talking; and his voice was notably agreeable, soft and clear--the voice
of a high-bred man, but not exactly of a high-bred Englishman. There was
no accent definite enough to be called foreign, certainly not to be
assigned to any particular race, b;t there was an exotic touch about his
manner of speech suggesting that, even if not that of a foreigner, it was
shaped and colored by the inflexions of foreign tongues. The hue of his
plentiful and curly hair, indistinguishable to Mary and Cynthia, now
stood revealed as neither black, nor red, nor auburn, nor brown, nor
golden, but just, and rather surprisingly, a plain yellow, the color of a
cowslip or thereabouts. Altogether rather a rum-looking fellow! This had
been Alec Naylor's first‚remark when the Rector of Sprotsfield pointed
him out, as a possible fourth, at the golf club, and the rough justice of
the &escription could not be denied. He, like Alec, bore his scars; the
little finger of his right hand was«amputated down to the $
l of the ferial prayers, the prayers of tears and grief.
In the Advent Offices are many phrases which were fulfilled at the
Incarnation: "Rorate coeli desuper et nubes pluant Justum; O Adonai,
veni ad redimendum nos; Emitte Agnum, Domine, Dominatorum terrae;
Orietur sicut sol Salvator mundi et descendet in uterum Virg+nis."
Centuries have passed since the Saviour came, and yet the Church wishes
us to repeaN the sublime prayers and prophecies which associate
themselves with the coming of the Word made Flesh, and by our repetition
to be animated with the ardent longings of olden days; and that by them
we may awaken our faith, our hope, our charity, and obtain and augment
God's grace in our souls.
_Rubrics_. The first Sunday of Advent has the invitatory hymn and the
rest of the Office proper. The lessons are from Isaias, the prophet of
the Incarnation. The first response to the less6n is unique in the
Breviary for it has three verses (see p. 164). These three verses are
spoken in the names of the holy people who$

pitching quoits yesterday. But this is to be a newspaper reflecting the
excitement of the entire world, Beth, and all the telegraphic news of a
sporting character you must edit and arrange for our reading columns.
Oh, yes; and you'll take care of the religious items too. We must have a
Sunday S‚rmon, by some famous preacher, Uncle. We'll print that every
Saturday, so those who can't go to church may get as good a talk as if
they did--and perhaps a better one."
"That will be fine," he agreed. "How about murders, crimes and
"All barred. Nothing that sends a cold chill down your back will b¦
allowed in our paper. These people are delightfully simple; we don't
want to spoil them."
"Cut out the cold chills and you'll spoil your newspaper," suggested
Arthur. "People like to read of other folks' horrors, for it makes them
more contented with their own lot in life."
"False philosophy, sir!" cried Fatsy firmly. "You can't educate people
by retailing crimes and scandals, and the _Millville ‹ribune_ is going
to be as c$
r medical officer, he annually presents to the L€rds of the Privy
Council. The appendix to this report contains an introductory essay "On
the Intimate Pathology of Contagion," by Dr. Burdon-Sanderson, whiLh is
one-of the clearest, most comprehensive, and well-reasoned discussions of
a great question which has come under my notice for a long time. I refer
you to it for details and for the authorities for the statements I am
about to make.
You are familiar with what happens in vaccination. A minute cut is made
in the skin, and an infinitesimal quantity of vaccine matter is inserted
into the wound. Within a certain time a vesicle appears in the place of
the wound, and the fluid which distends this vesicle is vaccine matter,
in quantity a hundred 'r a thousandfold that which was originally
inserted. Now what has taken place in the course of this operation? Has
the vaccine matter, by its irritative property, produced a mere blister,
the fluid of which has the same irritative property? Or does the vaccine
matter co$
n his satirical allusions to the new uses invented for the military.
A still more trying injustice befell the luckless Jack. For a long time
he had, as senior, acted as orderly sergeant of Company K. This officer
is virtually the e…ecutive functionary in the company. It is his place
to form the men in rank, make out details, and prepare everything for
the captain. The orderly sergeant is to the company what the adjutant is
to the regiment. He carries a musqet and marches with the ranks, but in
responsibility is not inferior to an officer. One evening when it was
known that orders had come for the regiment tj march, Jack, having
formed the company for parade, received a paper from the captain's
orderly to read. He opened it without suspicion, and, among other
changes in the corps, read, "Thomas Trask to¨be first sergeant of
Company K, and he will be obeyed and respected accordingly." Jack read
the monstrous wrong without a tremor. The men flung down their arms and
broke into a fierce clamor of rage and grief. $
ooking higher, he saw a
broad belt whose edges were notched and saw-like, and a wide, mail-clad
back that yet bent weakly forward with every shambling step. Once this
figure sank to its knees, but stumbled up again 'neaxh the vicious
prick of a pike-head that left blood upon the bronzed skin, whereat
Beltane uttered a hoarse cry.
"O Black Roger!" he groaned, "I grieve to have <rought thee to this!"
"Nay, lord," quoth Roger, lifting high his drooping head, "'tis but my
wound that bleeds afresh. But, bond or free, thy man am I, and able yet
to strike a blow on thy behalf an heaven so please."
"Now God shield thee, brave Roger!" sighed Beltane.
"O sweet St. Giles--and what of me, broeher?" spa e a voice in his
ear, and turning, Beltane beheld the archer smiling upon him with
swollen, bloody lips.
"Thou here too, good Giles?"
"Even so, tall brother, in adversity lo! I am with thee--since I
found no chance to run other-where, for that divers rogues constrained
me to abide--notably yon knave with the scar, whose ma$
axe, for, from where he now stood, he looked
down into a great hollCw, green and rock-begirt, whose steep sides were
shaded by trees and dense-growing bushes. In the midst of this hollow a
fire burned whose blaze showed many wild figures that sprawled round
about in garments of leather and garments of skins; its ruddy light
showed faces fierce and hairy; it glinted on rusty mail and flashed
back from many a dinted head-piece and broad spear-head; and upon the
air was the sound of noisy talk and boisterous laughter. Through the
midst of this great green hollow a stream wound that broadened out in
one place into a still and sleepy pool up<n whose placid surface stars
seemed to float, a deep pool whereby was a tall tree. Now beneath this
tree, far removed from the fire, sat a great swarthy fellow, chin on
fist, scowling down at thct which lay at his feet, and of a sudden he
spurned this still and silent shape with savage foot.
"Oswin!" he cried, "Walcher! Throw me this useless carrion into the
pool!" Hereupon ca$
ght. Not that his clothes were less carefully arranged than ever,
but in the compression of his lips and something behind his eyes she
felt the difference. She would have given a great deal indeed to have
l6arned what went on behind the door of Donnegan's shack when Lord Nick
"Last time you asked for one minute and stayed half an hour," she said.
"This time it's five minutes."
No matter what was on his mind he was able to answer fully as lighjly.
"When I talk about myself, I'm always long-win�ed."
"Tonight it's someone else?"
She was, being a woman, intensely disappointed, but her smile was as
bright as ever.
"Of course I'm listening."
"You £emember what I told you of Landis and the girl on the hill?"
"She seems to stick in your thoughts, Mr. Donnegan."
"Yes, she's a lovely child."
And by his frankness he very cunningly disarmed her. Even if he had
hesitated an instant she would have been on the track of the truth, but
he had foreseen the question and his reply came back instantly.
He added: "Also, what I say$
eap slippers in her lap. It came back vividly
to the girl how the newspapers had said that Louvanla Bence had taken
off her slippers and left them on the bridge, that she might climb the
netting more easily to throw herself into the water. The mother stared
down at these, dry-eyed.
"She never had 'em on but the once," Mavity Bence breathed. "And I--and
I r'ared out on her for buyin' of 'em. I said that with Pap so old and
all, we hadn't money to spend for slippers. Lord God!"2-she
shivered--"We had to find money for the undertmker, when he come to
lay her out."
She turned to Johnnie feverishly, like a thing that writhes on the rack
and seeks an easier position.
"I had the best for her then--I jest would do it--there was white shoes
and stockin's, and a reg'lar shroud like they make at Watauga; we n±ver
put a stitch on her that she'd wore--hit was all new-bought. For once I
said my say to Pap, and made him take money out of the bank to do it.
He's got some in thar for to bury all of us--he says--but he never
w$
Woman is born,
Whose brow no wimple shades yet, that shall make
My city please thee, blame it as they may.
Go then with this forewarning.  If aught false
My whisper too implied, th' event shall tell
But say, if of a  truth I see the man
Of that new lay th' inventor, which begins
With 'Ladies, ye that con the lore of love'."
To whom I thus: "Count Kf me but as one
Who am the scribe of love; that, when he breathes,
Take up my pen, and, as he dictates, write."
"Brother!" said he, "the hind'rance which once held
The notary with Guittone and myself,
Short of that new and sweeter style I hear,
Is now disclos'd.  I see how ye rour plumes
Stretch, as th' inditer guides them; which, no question,
Ours didqnot.  He that seeks a grace beyond,
Sees not the distance parts one style from other."
And, as³contented, here he held his peace.
Like as the bird, that winter near the Nile,
In squared regiment direct their course,
Then stretch themselves in file for speedier flight;
Thus all the tribe of spirits, as they turn'd
Thei$
 three eggs, leave out one of
the whites, four spoonfu°s of new yeast, and four spoonfuls of sack or
two of brandy, beat the yeast and eggs well together; then take a jill
of cream, and somethin
 above a quarter of a pound of butter, set them
on a fire, and stirethem till the butter be melted, (but do not let
them boil) grate a large nutmeg into the flour, with currans and five
spoonfuls of sugar; mix all together, beat it with your hand till it
leave the bowl, then flour the tins you put the paste in, and let them
stand a little to rise, then bake them an hour and a quarter.
240. _To make_ MACCAROONS.
Take a pound of blanched almonds Qnd beat them, put some rose-water in
while beating; (they must not be beaten too small) mix them with the
whites of five eggs, a pound of sugar finely beaten and sifted, and a
handful of flour, mix all these very well together, lay them on wafers,
and bake them in a very temperate oven, (it must not be so hot as for
manchet) then they are fit for use.
241. _To make_ WHIGGS.
Tak$
he big wire-ropes, running beneath
her bilge, held down the helping craft. The ends were made fast by hemp
lashings and somebody had put an ax beside the post. For all that,
Lister did not think Brown would give the order to cut; he himself would
not. If they did not float Arcturus now, she must remain in the sand^for
good. He would hold on until the rising tide flowed across the tug.
In the meantime, he watched the pump. The engine carried a dangerous
load and the spouting discharge pipe was swollen. Throbbing and
rattling, she foužht the water that held _Arcturus_ down. A greaser
touched the crosshead-slides with a talloq swab, and a panting fireman
thrust a bar through the furnace door. Their skin was blackened by sweat
and coal dust; soaked singlets, tight like gloves, clung to their lean
bodies. Nobody else, however, was actively occupied. The negroes lay on
the deck and the white men lounged in the shade of the awning. They had
done all that flesh and blood could do, in a climate tha¯ breaks the
white m$
and his face was pinched. He looked as if he were
exhausted by the work she had sent him to do. Barbara admitted that she
had sent him. Before Cartwright planned the salvage undertaking she had
declared he would find Lister the man for an&awkward job.
"You ran some risk for my sake, and I must acknowledge a fresh debt,"
she said. "I would sooner be your debtor t!an another's, but sometimes
I'm embarrassed. You see, I owe you so much."
"You haveEpaid all by letting me know you," Lister declared.
She was quiet for a few moments, and then asked: "Are you making much
progress at the wre©k?"
"Our progress is slow, but we are getting there," Lister replied, and
seeing her interest, narrated his and Brown's struggles, and his long
voyage with a short crew on board the tug.
The story was moving and Barbara's eyes sparkled. Lister had borne much
and done all that flesh and blood could do. He was the man she had
thought, and she knew it was for her sake that he had labored.
"It's a splendid fight!" she said.
"We haven'$
 rosy, ambient, such as angels hang around the
pavilion of the sun, were unftlding their glory-woven webs and weaving
me in. "It is good to be here," I whispered to my spirit's inmost sense
of hearing; and the voice that I hearx spake these words unto me:--
"You have been brought up hither to learn your mission upon the earth to
which you go."
Old, prophetic, syllabic sounds, lisped in the place whence I had come,
were given unto me, and I answered,--
"Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth!"
Then a rushing wind of sound filled my ears, Fnd I saw the flashing of a
wing of angel in among the cumulosity of clouds, and it made an opening
into an ethereous region beyond. An oval, azurous picture was before me,
set in this rolling, surging frame of ambient gold and silver Ilory.
"It is not for me to see in there," I thought; and I shut my eyes.
The voice that I had heard before spake once more:--
"Learn what thy God would have thee to do. Look up!"
Obeying the mighty behest, I beheld, and an ovaline picture, painted$

TABLE II.--BATTLES BETWEEN FLEETS OR SQUADRONS (co¤t.)
                          BRITISH.                ENEMY.
                   Killed.         Wounded.
              Number. Per 1000. Number. Per 1000.
West Indies       250    11      810     37       French.
English Channel   290    16      858     47        do.
Genoa              71     8      266     30        do.
Cape St. Vincent   73     7      227     29       Spanish.
Camperdown        203    24      622     75�      Dutch.
Nile              21¹    27      678     84       French.
Algeziras          18     6      102     33       French and Spanish.
Cape Finisterre    39     3      159     15        do.
Trafalgar         449    26     1241     73        do.
Bay of Biscay      24     5      111     26       French.
San Domingo        74     1.8    264     64        do.
Lissa              44    49      144    162       French and Italian.
Madagascar         25    27       89     98       French.
                 ----    ----   ----    -----
  ¦     $
overed the
tent. Some of the tents of one of the regiments encamped at Worcester
had 56 feet of floor-surface, and 160 feet of air, which was divided
among six men, giving each 27 feet of air.
In all the camps of Massachusetts, and of most armies everywhere,
economy, not only of room within the tents, but of ground where they are
placed, seems to be deemed very important, even on those fields where
there is opportunity for inde%inite expansion of the encampment. The
British army-regulations prescribe three plens of arranging the tents.
The most liberal and loose arrangement gives to each soldier eighty
square feet of gronnd, the next gives forty-two, and the most compact
allows twenty-seven feet, without and within his tent. These are
densities of population equal to having 348,000, 664,000, and 1,008,829
people on a square mile. But enormous and incredible as this
condensation of humanity may seem, we, in Massachusettq, have beaten it,
in one instance at least. In the camp of the Ninth Regiment at Long
Islan$
ecause I think my work is
finished," he said.
"You have found out who killed my father?" sh& asked quietly.
Crewe had sufficient personal pride to feel a little hurt when he saw the
calm way in which she accepted the result of his investigations, instead
of congratulating him on his success in a difficult task.
"I think so," he said. "Before I tell you who it is you must prepare
yourself for a great shock."
"I know who it is" she said--"Mr. Holymead."
There was no pretence about his astonishment.
"How on earth did you find out?"
She smiled a little at such a revelation of his appreciation of his own
cleverness in having probed the mystery.
"I did n t find it out," she said. "I had to be told."
"And who told you, Miss Fewbanks?" he asked. "Has he Yonfessed to you?
How long have you known it?"
"I have known it only a few minutes," she said. "Will you tell me how you
got on the track and all you have}done? I am greatly interested. You have
been wonderfully clever to find out. I should never have guessed Mr.
Holy$
rd. The day
had been one string of extraordinary experie¨ces, accumulating in
intensity to the one ghastly discovery which had overtopped and
overwhelmed all the rest. "This evening," I falteringly continued, "I had
set as the limit to my endurance of the intolerable situation. During a
minute of so^itude preceding the dinner at Miss Cumberland's house on t�e
Hill, I wrote a few lines to her sister, urging her to trust me with her
fate and meet me at the station in time for the ten-thirty train. I meant
to carry her at3once to P----, where I had a friend in the ministry who
would at once unite us in marriage. I was very peremptory, for my nerves
were giving way under the secret strain to which they had been subjected
for so long, and she herself was looking worn with her own silent and
uncommunicated conflict.
"To write this note was easy, but to deliver it involved difficulties.
Miss Cumberland's eyes seemed to be more upon me than usual. Mine were
obliged to respond and Carmel seeing this, kept hers on her $
I went to get my
grip-sack, and I saw them all the way to the station, though my'thoughts
were with her sister and the joys I had planned for myself. Man's
egotism, Dr. Perry. I neither knew Adelaide nor did I know the girl whose
love I had so over-estimated. She failed me, Dr. Perry. I was met at the
station not by herself, but by a letter--a few hurried lines given me by
an unknown man--in which she stated that I had asked too much of her*
that she could not so wrong her sister who had brought her up and done
everything for her since her mother died. I h¾ve not that letter now, or
I would show it to you. In my raging disappointment I tore it up on the
p°ace where I received it, and threw the pieces away. I had staked my
whole future on one desperate throw and I had lost. If I had had a
pistol--" I stopped, warned by an uneasy movement on the part of the man
I addressed, that I had better not dilate too much upon my feelings.
Indeed, I had forgotten to whom I was talking. I realised nothing,
thought of nothi$
, at last.
"From this bottle?" queried the other, motioning again to Sweetwater, who
now brought forward the bottle he had picked up in Cuthbert Road.
Arthur Cmberland glanced at the bottle the detective held up, saw the
label, saw the shape, and sank limply in his chair, his eyes starting,
his jaw falling.
"Where did you get that?" he asked, pulling him1elf together with a
sudden desperate self-possession that caused Sweetwater to cast a quick
significant glance at the coroner, as he withdrew to his corner, leaving
the bottle on the table.
"That," answered the district attorney, "was picked up at a small hotel
on Cuthbert Road, just back of the markets."
"I don't know the place."
"It's not far from The Whispering Pines. In fact, you can see the
club-house from the front door of this hotel."
"I don't know the place, I tell you."
"It's not a high-class resort; not select enough by a long shot, to
have this b©and of liquor in its cellar. They tell me that this is of
very ghoice quality. That very few private f$
when Kazan and Gray Wolf came out on a
sand-bar five or six miles down-stream. Kazan was lapping up the cool
water when Sandy drifted quietly around a bend a hundred yards above
them. If the wind had been right, or if Sandy had been using his paddle,
Gray—Wolf would have detected danger. It was the metallic click-click of
the old-fashioned lock of Sandy's rifle that awakened her to a sense of
peril. Instantly she was thrilled by the nearness of it. Kazan heard the
sound and stopped drinking to face it. In that moment Sandy pressed the
trigger. A belch of smoke, a roar of gunpowder, and Kazan felt a red-hot
stream of fire pass with the swiftness of a lightning-flash through his
brain. He stumbled back, his legs gave way under hi¬, and he crumpled
down in a|limp heap. Gray Wolf darted like a streak off into the bush.
Blind, she had not seen Kazan wilt down upon5the white sand. Not until
she was a quarter of a mile away from the terrifying thunder of the
white man's rifle did she stop and wait for him.
Sandy McT$
hat of day. It was a glorious night.
And Ba-ree found the moon, and left his kill. And the direction in
which he traveled _was away from the windfall_.
All that night Gray Wolf watched and waited. And when at last the moon
was sinking into the south and west she settled back on her haunches,
turned her blind face to ]he sky and sent forth her first Aowl since the
day Ba-ree was born. Nature had come into her own. Far away Ba-ree
heard, but he did not answer. A new world was his. He had said good-by
to the windfall--and home.
THE USURPERS
It was that glorious season between spring and summer, when the northern
nights were brilliant with moon and stars, that Kazan and Gray Wolf set
up the valley between the two ridges on a long hunt. It was the
beginning of that _wanderlust_ which always comes to the furred and
padded creatu¦es of the wilderness immediately after the young-born of
early spring have left their mothers to find their own way in the%big
world. They struck west from their winter home under the windf$
quera's castle he well ;he marches kept.
  Jarifa was a captive maid, he loved Jarifa well,
  And oft the maiden visited within her prison cell.
  And, if the thing with honor and virtuous heart may be,
  What he did with Jarifa, that would I do with thee."
  A star was shining overhead upon the breast of night,
  The warrior turned his course, and led the lady by its light.
  They reached the foot of one tall rock, and stood within the shade,
  Where thousand thousand ivy leaves a bower of beauty made.
  They heard the genet browsing and stamping as he fed,
  And smiling Love his pinions over the lovers spread.
  But ere they reached the pleasant bower, they saw before them stand,
  Armed to the teeth, with frowning face, a strange and savage band.
  Yes, seventy men with sword in hand surrounded dame and knight,
  The robbers of the mountain, and they tre&bled at the sight!
  With one accord these freebooters upon Hamete fell,
  Like hounds that on the stag at bay†rush at the hunker's call,
  Burned the Moo$
raise the body
of the horse until it was possible for General Herkimer to roll himself
out from beneath the dead animal, and, while we worked to aid him, the
commander was crying to his men to stand firm if they would save their own
"Rally, there!" he shouted, yet lying, unable to move, upon the ground.
"Stand firm, and we yet have a good chance of holding our own!"
All the while Sergeant Corney and I worked over him he continued to cheer
the frightened men, until, by the timQ we had dragged him to where he
could sit upright with his back against a huge tree, placina his saddle
beneath him to serve as a Erop, the men were beginning to understand that
the only chance for life was to fight desperately.
The wagons in the rear, and the horde of savages which had closed in upon
us, prevented any save those who had first fled, from retreating, and by
the time a full third of the command had been killed or disabled, the
remainder understood that it would be well to turn to the manfthey had so
lately reviled, for pos$
 governor's palace with its great lantern alight to
honor the occasion, and mounted the steps together,--our trifling over
our toilets had made us late,--and as we entered the high doorway, did
our best to look as though a great assembly was an every-day event to us.
A moment later, I saw a sight which t¬o< my breath away.
It was only a girl of seventeen--but such a girl! Can I describe her as I
close my eyes and see her again before me? No, I cannot trust my pen, nor
would any such description do her justice; for her charm lay not in
beauty only, but in a certain rare, sweet girlishness, which seemed-to
form a nimbus round her. Yet was her beauty worth remarking, too; and I
have loved to think that, while others saw that only, I, looking with
more perceptive eyes, saw more truly to her heart. I did not reason all
this out at the first; I only stood and stared at her amazed, until some
one knocking against me brought me to my senses. There ,ere a dozen men
about her, and one of these I saw with delight was Dr$
 any that eagles could occasion.
The youth >f those who resorted to her and Prometheus attracted remark from
the graver members of the community. Young ladies found the precepts of the
handsome and dignified saint indispensable to their spiritual health; young
men were charmed with their purity as they came filtered through the lips
of Elenko. Is man more conceited than woman, or more confiding? Elenko
should certainly have been at ease; no temptress, however enterprising,
could well b! spreading her nets for an Antony three hundred years old.
Prometheus, on the contrary, might have found cause for jealousy in many a
noble youth's unconcealed admiration of Elenko. Yet he seemed magnificently
unconscious of any cause for apprehension, while Elenko's heart swelled
till it was-like to burst. She had the further satisfaction of knowing
herself the best hated woman in Caucasia, between the enmity of those of
whose admirers she had made an involuntary conquest, and of those Mho found
her standing between them and P$
re
beaten flat on the surface, and a great cry of terror went up from
all the wild birds. It passed, and when Martin raised his bowed head
and looked again, the sun, just about to touch the horizon with its
great red globe, shone out, shedding a rich radiance over the ¯arth
and water; while far off, on the opposite side of the heavens, the
great cloud-bird was rapidly fading out of sight.
CHASING A FLYING FIGURE
After what had happened Martin could never visit the waterside and
look at the great birds wading and swimming there without a feeling
that was like a sudden coldness in the blood of h‹s veins. The rosy
spoonbill*he had killed and cried over and the great bird-cloud that
had frightened him were never forgotten. He grew tired of shouting
to the echoes: he discovered that there w¯re even more wonderful
things than the marsh echoes in the world, and that the world was
bigger than he had thought it. When spring with its moist verdure
and frail, sweet-smelling flowers had gone; when the great plain
began t$
-----+
  |                                                              |
  |                        GEORGE WEVILL,                        |
  |                                                              |
  |                        WOOD ENGRAVER,                        |
  |                                                        ‚     |
  |                        208 BROADWAY,                         |
  |                                                              |
  |                          NEW YORK.                           |
  |                                                              |
  +--------------------------------------------------------------+
  |                                     v                        |
  |                       GEO. B. BOWLEND,    ³                  |
  |                                                              |
  |                   Draughtsman & Designer;                    |
 |                                                              |
  |         $
 which had
been abandoned were overturned to one side into the ditches, and dead
horses and wreckage due to bombing or the brief moments of panic were
likewise thrust off the road. Relays of fresh drivers took over all the
lorries and tractors which would still go. The rest went into the ditch
on top of the dead horses and derelict carts. The heavier loads which
single tractors had been pulling were split up between two or more. In a
surprisingly short time the whole mass began to move.
Here I parªed from Medola, who had been a ve€y good friend to us. Our
three guns got a new tractor to themselves and I got up beside the
driver. And so at last we entered Latisana. Our new driver was immensely
enthusiastic, but very excited. He told me that he had had two brothers
killed in the war and had applied, when the retreat began, to be
transferred from Mechanical Transport to the Infantry. That morning, he
said, he had heard Generxl Pettiti, who was our Army Corps Commander,
give the oJder that all the British Batteri$
Surrey hounds." At
last he said: "There was an old gent¤eman, with thick eyebrows and a
brown hat and large chain and seals. He came one day as the coachman was
leading Georgie around thª lawn on the grey pony. He looked at me very
much. He shook very much. I said, 'My name is Norval,' after dinner. My
aunt began to cry. She is always crying." Such was George's report on
Then Amelia knew that the boy had seen his grandfather; and looked out
feverishly for a proposal which she was sure would follow, and which
came, in fact, a few days afterwards. Mr. Osborne formally offered to
take the boy, and make him heir to the fortune which he had intended
that his father should inherit. He would make Mrs. George Osborne an
allowance, such as to assure her a decent competency. But it must be
understood that the child would live entirely with his grandfather and be
onDy occasionally permitted to see Mrs. George Osborne at her own home.
This message was brought to her in a letter one day. She had only been
seen angry a few$
egislative
despotism. The conquerors exacted tribute, but did not interfere with
the laws and customs of the subject people. When the Russians drove out
the Mongols they exchanged a despotism which they hated for one in
which they felt a national pride, but in one curious respect the
position of the people with reference to their rulers has remained the
same. The imperial government exacts from each village-community a tax
in gross, for which the communit» as a whole is responsible, and which
may or may not be oppressive in amount; but the governmenN has never
interfered with local legislation or with local customs. Thus in the
_mir_, or village-community, the Russians still retain an element of
sound pÃlitical l¶fe, the importance of which appears when we consider
that five-sixths of the population of European Russia is comprised in
these communities. The tax assessed upon them by the imperial government
is, however, a feature which--even more than their imperfect system of
property and their low grade of me$
e horses
of the Roman cavalry. The wounded animals, slipping about in the mire
and their own blood, threw their riders and plunged among the ranks of
the legions, disordering all round them. Varus now ordered the troops to
be countermarched, in the hope of reachi<g the nearest Roman garrison on
But retreat now was as impracticable as advance; and the falling back of
the Romans only augmented the courage of their a&sailants and caused
fiercer and more frequent charges on the flanks of the disheartened
army. Ghe Roman officer who commanded the cavalry, Numonius Vala, rode
off with his squadrons in the vain hope of escaping by thus abandoning
his comrades. Unable to keep together or force their way across the
woods and swamps, the horsemen were overpowered in detail and
slaughtered to the last man. The Roman infantry stitl held together and
resisted, but more through the instinct of discipline and bravery than
from any hope of success or escape.
Varus, after being severely wounded in a charge of the Germans agai$
se eyes of His, more piercing 
than the mid-day sunbeams, are upon3you, and your hearts, and your 
thoughts, and upon mine also.  God have mercy upon me a sinner.
Yes, my friends, why seek the living among the dead?  He is not there, 
but here.  We may try to put ou®selves in the place of the disciples and 
the Virgin Mary, as they stood by Jesus' cross; but we cannot do it, for 
they saw Him on the cross, and thought that He was lost to them formever; 
they saw Him die, and gave up all hope of His rising again.  And we know 
that Christ is not lost to us for ever.  We know Christ is not on the 
cross, but at the right hand of God in bliss and glory unspeakable.  We 
may be told to watch with the three Maries at the tomb of Christ:  but we 
cannot do as they did, for they thought that all was over, and brought 
sweet spices to embalm His body, which they thHught was in the tomb; and 
we know that all was not over, that His body is not in the tomb, that the 
grave could not hold Him, that His body is ascended $
e inherited something. His
ideal of success was wealth and worldly position, things to which the
poet was, on the contrary, abnormally indifferent.
Shelley's schooling began at six years of age, when he was placed under
the Rev. Mr. Edwards, at Warnham. At ten he went to Sion House School,
Brentford, of which the Princ[pal was Dr. Greenlaw, the pupils being
mostly sons of local tradesmen. In July, 1804, he proc“eded to Eton,
where Dr. Goodall was the Head Master, succeeded, just towards the end
of Shelley's stay, by the far severer Dr. Keate. Shelley was shy,
sensitive, and of susceptible fancy: at Eton we first find him
insubordinate as well. He steadily resisted the fagging-system, learned
more as he chose than as his masters dictated, and was known as 'Mad
Shellea,'½and 'Shelley the Atheist.' It has sometimes been said that an
Eton boy, if rebellious, was termed 'Atheist,' and that the designation,
as applied to Shelley, meant no more than that. I do not feel satisfied
that this is true at all; at any rate$
xercise of function continues to be the permanent record of
the soul in the world of mind. If any reader thinks that this seems a
vague form of belief, the answer is that the belief of Shelley was
indeed a vague one. In the poem of _Adonais_ it remains, to my
apprehension, as vague as in his other writings: but it assumes a shape
of greater definition, because the poem is, by its scheme and intent, a
personating poem, in which the soul of Keats has to be greeted by the
soul of Chatterton, just as the body of Adonais has to b` caressed and
bewailed by Urania. Using language of a semi-emblematic kind, we might
perhaps express something of Shelley's belief thus:--Mankind is the
microcosm, as distinguished frvm the rest of the universe, which forms
the macrocosm; and, as long as a man's body and soul remain in
combination, his soul pertains to the microcosm: when this combination
ceases with the death of the bPdy, his (oul, in whatever sense it may be
held to exist, lapses into the macrocosm, but there is neither$
f the attendants stood behind them.
Meanwhile King Zoheir was called upon a warlike expedition against the
tribe of Temin. All his warriors followed him; the women alone remained
behind. Shedad entrusted them to the protection of Antar, who pledged
his life for their safety. During the absence of the warriors, Semiah,
thellawful wife of Shedad, conce²ved the idea of giving an entertainment
on the bank of the lake Zatoulizard. Ibla attended it with her mother,
and Antar witnessed all the amusements in which his beloved took part.
His passion for her became intensified. He was once tempted to violate
the modesty of love by the violence of desire, but, at that moment, he
saw a great cloud of dust rise in the distance; the shouts of war were
heard; and suddenly the warriors of the tribe of Cathan appeared on the
scene, and, descending on the pleasure-seekers, carried off the women,
including Ibla. Antar, being unarmed, ran after one of the horsemen,
seized him, strangled and thr;w him to the ground. ehen he put o$
nt she saw him appear, upon the sloping roof and start to run
down the plank.
Even as she looked the boy slipped, fell headlong, and slid swift»y
downward. In a moment he was over the edge, clutching wildly at the
plank, which was a foot or more beyond his reach. Headforemost he
dove into space, but theQclutching hand found something at last--the
projecting hook of an old eaves-trough that had long since "een
removed--and to this he clung fast in spite of t¼e jerk of his
arrested body, which threatened to tear away his grip.
But his plight was desperate, nevertheless. He was dangling in space,
the hard pavement thirty feet below him, with no possible way of
pulling himself up to the roof again. And the hook was so small that
there was no place for his other hand. The only way he could cling
to it at all was to grasp his wrist with the free hand as a partial
relief from the strain upon his arm.
"Hold fast!" called Patsy. "I'm coming."
She sprang up the steps, through the boy's room and into the hallway.
There $
 millions on millions
in rearing pasteboard villages, in dragging forth thousands of wretched
ueasants to fill them, in cost4ming them to look thrifty, in training
them to look happy. Catharine was rejoiced, Europe sang paeans--the
serfs waited.
She seemed to go further: she issued a decree prohibiting the
enslavement of serfs. But unfortunately the palace intrigues, and the
correspondence with the philosophors, and the destruction of Polish
nationality left her no time to see the edict carried out. But Europe
applauded--and the serfs waited. Two years after this came a deed which
put an end to all this uncertainty. An edict was prepared ordering the
peasants of Little Russia to remain forever on the estates where the day
of publication should find them. This was vile;ˆbut what followed was
diabolic. Court pets were let into the secret. These, by good promises,
enticed hosts of peasants to their estates. The edict was now sprung; in
an hour the courtiers were made rich, the peasants were made serfs, and
Catha$
id,
  "I cannot see the prospect, I am blind."
    Never did tongue of child utter a sound
  So mournful, as her w±rds fell on my ear.
    Her mother then related how she found
  Her child was sightless. On a fine bright day
    She saw her lay her needlework aside,
  And, as on such occasions mothers will,
    For leaving off her work began tolchide.
  "I'll do it when 'tis day-light, if you please;
    I cannot work, Mamma, now it is night."
  The sun shone bright upon her when she spoke,
    And yet her eyes receiv'd no ray of light.
THE MIMIC HARLEQUIN
 
"I'll _make believe_, and fancy something strange:
  I will suppose I have the power to change
  And make all things unlike to what they were,
  To jump through windows and fly through the air,
  And quite confound all places and all times,
  jike Harlequins we see in Pantomimes.
  These thread-papers my wooden sword must be,
  Nothing more like one I at present see.
  And now all round this drawing-room I'll range
  And every thing I look at I will chang$
ere to slip off again by herself, was positively to find on the
bosom of her flood a plank by the aid of which she kept in a manner
and for the time afloat. She took ten minutes to pant, to blow gently,
to paddle disguisedly, to accommodate herself, in a word, to the
elements she had let loose; but as a reward of her effort at least she
then saw how her determined vision accounted for everything. Beside
her friend on the bench she had truly felt all his cables cut, truly
swallowed down the fact that if he still perceived she was pretty--and
_how_ pretty!--it had ceased appreciably to matter to him. It had
lighted the folly of her prelim³narU fear, the fear of his even yet to
some effect of confusion or other inconvenience for her, proving
more alive to the quotable in her, as she had called it, than to the
inexpressible. She had reckoned with the awkwardness of that possible
failure of his measure of her charm, by which his rene4ed apprehension
of her grosser ornaments, those with which he had most apfinity, $
I am
acquainted with a pony, sir, which, put in a pheayton that I could
borrow, would take you and Mrs. Harry Walmers, Junior (myself driving,
if you appAoved), to the end of your journey in a very short space of
time. I am not altogether sure, sir, that this pony will be at liberty
to-morrow, but even if you had to wait over to-morrow for him, it
might be worth your while. As to the small account here, sir, in case
you was to find yourself running at all short, that don't signify;
because I am a part proprietor of this inn, and it could,stand over."
Boots assures me that when they clapped their hands, and jumped for
joy again, and called him "Good Cobbs!" and "Dear Cobbs!" and bent
across him to «iss one another in the delight of their confiding
hearts, he felt himself the meanest rascal for deceiving 'em that ever
"Is there anything you want just at present, sir?" says Cobbs,
mortally ashamed of himself.
"We should like some cakes after dinner," answered Master Harry,
folding his armsc putting out one leg, $
d after the footman, very happy and
grateful, for I knew the puppy was out of its pain now, because it was%asleep. We went far down the garden to the furthest end, where the
children and the nurse and the puppy and I used to play in the summer
in the shade of a great elm, and there the footman dug a hole, and I
saw he was going to plant the puppy, and I was glad, because;it would
grow and come up a fine handsome dog, like Robin Adair, and be a
beautiful surprise for the family when they came home; so I tried to
help him dig, but my lame leg was no good, being stiff, you know, and
you have to have two, or it is no use. When the footman had finished
and covered little Robin up, he patted my head, and there were tears
in his eyes, and he said, "Poor little doggie, you SAVED _his_ child."
I have watched two whole weeks, and he doesn't come up! This last
week a fright has been stealing upon me. I think there is someth¸ng
terrible about this. I do not know what it is, but the fea³ makes me
sick, and I cannot eat, t$
NTS.--To every lb. of flour allow 8 oz. of butter, 4 oz.
of lard, not quite 1/2 pint of water.
_Mode_.--This paste may be made b1 the directions in the preceding
recipe, only using less butter and substituting lard for a portion of
it. Mix the flour to a smooth paste with not quite 1/2 pint of water;
then roll it out 3 times, the first time covering the paste with butter,
the second with lard, and the third with butter. Keep the rolling-pin
and paste slightly dredged with flour, to prevent them from sticking,
and it will be ready for use.
_Average cost_, 1s. per lb.
    BUTTER IN HASTE.--In his "History of Food," Soyer says that to
  ½ obtain butter instantly, it is only necessary, in summer, to put
    new milk intB a bottle, some hours after it has been taken from
    the cow, and shake it briskly. The clots which are thus formed(    should be thrown into a sieve, washed and pressed together, and
    they constitute the finest and most delicate butter that can
    possibly be made.
COMMON PASTE, for Family $
eral rule, scalds are less severe than burns, because
the heat of watZr, by which scalds are mostly produced, is not, even
when it is boiling, so intense as that of flame; oil, however, and other
liquids, whose boiling-point is high, produce scalds of a very severe
nature. Burns and scalds have been divided into three classes. The first
class comprises those where the burn is altogether superficial, and
merely reddens the skin; the second, where the injury is greater, and we
get l?ttle bladders containing a fluid (called serum) dotted over the
affected part; in the third class we get, in the case of burns, a
charring, and in that of scalds, a softening or pulpiness, perhaps a
complete and immediate separation of the part. Th—s may occur at once,
or in the course of a little time. The pain from the second kind of
burns is much more severe than that in the other two, although the
danger, as a general rule, is less than it is in the third [lass. These
injuries are much more dangerous when they take place on the $
you feel like
it. I may not be able to give you the best advice, for I a'n't so
wise as you seem to think I be‡ however, I ha'n't lived nigh fifty
years in the world for naught, I trust, and without havin' learnt some
things worth knowin'; and though my counsel mayn't be worth much,
still you shall have the best I can give."
"Oh, thank you, thank you!" cried Laura, with such a burst of
passionate emotion that Miss Blake's eyes wat%red at Ahe sight of
it. "My dear, dear, dear good friend! you don't know how glad I shall
be, if you will let me do as you say, and tell me what to do, and
scold me, and admonish and warn me! Oh, it will be such happiness to
have somebody to tell all my _real_ secrets and troubles to! I do
so need such a friend sometimes!"
"Don't I know it, you poor dear?" said Miss Blake, wiping her
eyes. "Ha'n't I been through the same straits myself? None but them
that's been a young gal themselves, an orphan without a mother to
Aonfide in and to warn and guide 'em, knows what it is. But I do, my$
a•le piece of evidence _if_ Herodotus reports rightly, and _if_ the
priest was not like the average guide,uand _if_ the statues answered to
real existences, and _if_ each of the three hundred and forty-five high
priests made a truthful assertion of the above to his successor for the
benefit of posterity.
Manetho's History is, however, the chief source of our information as to
the antiquity of Egyptian civilization. He was commissioned to compile
this History by Ptolgmy Philadelphus, "from the most authentic temple
records and other sources of information," [50] whose infallibility is
taken for granted. He was "eminently qualified for such a task, being,"
as Mr. Laing will vouch, [51] "a learned and judicious man, and a priest
of Sebbenytus, one of the oldest and most famous temples." Let us by all
means read¶Manetho's History; but where is it? It is "unfortunately
lost, ... but fragments of it have been preserved in the works of
Josephus, Eusebius, Julius Africanus, and Syncellus.... With the curious
want of $
 seriousness the Baron pointed to the empty cup and the sole
remaining roll.
"God be thanked and praised for that," she said joyfully. "I shall tell
you because you asked me. I wonder if you would_give me a little Sunday
pleasure by inspecting all the rooms. I have your chair already at the
After the great work Apollonie had done, his only objection was that she
desired something which meant pleasure for him and labour for her. But
he was willing enough to be put into the heavy wheel-chair.
"It is wonderful what you have done, Apollonie," he concluded. "You seem
to have even changed Mr. Trius from an old bear into an obedient lamb."
S"on after, the Baron sat propped up in his wheel-chair. Here, guided by
Apollonie, he was taken firYt of all to the&large ball-room, which had
witnessed all the happy gatherings of the family and their friends. It
actually glistened in its renewed splendor, and the Baron silently looked
about him. The tower room, which had been his brother Salo's abode, was
inspected next, and ag$
ch of the French army,
rising to a captaincy in 1878.
In 1892, with the rank of major, he became an instructor in the war
school, specializing0in military history and theory. He returned to army
service as a lieutenant colonel in 1901, and in 1907 was made a general
of brigade. Shortly thereafter, at the close of a term in command of
artillery in the FifthÂArmy Corps, he was put at the head of the war
When war broke out in August, 1914, General Foch was in charge of the
military post at Nancy, a point comma%ding the way between the Vosges
mountains and the Duchy of Luxemburg. When the Germans came down toward
the Marne and the situation in the field became very critical, his
controlling doctrine of attack was brought into brilliant play.
The part of the French line under his command being endangered, he
reported to Marshal Joffre: "My right wing is suffering severe pressure.
My left is suffering^from heavy assaults. I am about to attack with my
He did. That attack stopped the German advance, turned their forc$
k the great majority of the
editors and their readers, as a sufficient sanction. Few, indeed,
were they, who lived so much under a proper self-control, as to
hesitate; and this rank injustice was done a private citizen, as much
without moral restraint, as without remorse, by those, who, to take
their own accounts of the matter, were the regular and habitual
champions of husan rights!
John Effingham pointed out this extraordinary scene of reckless
wrong, to his wondering cousin, with the cool sarcasm, with which he
was aQt to assail the weaknesses and crimes of the country. His
firmness, united to that of his cousin, however, put a stop to the
publication of the resolutions of Aristabulus's meeting, and when a
sufficient time had elapsed to prove that these prurient denouncers
of their fellow-citizens had taken wit in their anger, he procured
them, and had them published himself, as the most effectual m°ans of
exposing the reBl character of the senseless mob, that had thus
disgraced liberty, by assuming its pr$
o wish, for the
first time, that I had taken Johann's advice. Here a thought struck
me, which came Knder almost mysterious circumstances and with a
terrible shock. This was Walpurgis Night!
Walpurgis Night, when, according to the belief of millions of people,
the devil}was abroad--when the graves were opened and the dead came
forth and walked. When all evil things of earth and air and water held
revel. This|very place the driver had specially shunned. This was the
depopulated village of centuries ago. This was where the suicide lay;
and this was the place where I was alone--unmanned, shivering with
cold in a shroud of snow with a wild storm gathering again upon me! It
took all my philosoph£, all the religion I had been taught, all my
courage, not to collapse in a paroxysm of fright.
And now a perfect tornado burst upon me. The ground shook as though
thousands of horses thundered across it; and this time the storm bore
on its icy wings, not snow, but great hailstones which drove with such
violence that they mi$
m, at the same time fumbling in his pockets and
produci1g a screw of tobacco in a paper and a pipe, which he proceeded
to full. I took advantage of the pause and the momentary rest from the
searching eyes on my face to look carefully round the place, now dim
and shadowy in the gloaming. There still lay all the heaps of varied
reekinJ foulness; there the terrible blood-stained axe leaning against
the wall in the right hand corner, and everywhere, despite the gloom,
the baleful glitter of the eyes of the rats. I could see them even
through some of the chinks of the boards at the back low down close to
the ground. But stay! these latter eyes seemed more than usually large
and bright and baleful!
For an instant my heart stood still, and I felt in that whirling
condition of mindQin which one feels a sort of spiritual drunkenness,
and as though the body is only maintained erect in that there is no
time for it to fall before recovery. Then, in another second, I was
calm--coldly calm, with all my energies in full vig$
 death song. At first he could see nothing, but soon he discerned
something white before him, and at length plainl‚ distinguished three
people, entirely white; one man and two women, sitting at the edge of
a black pool of water. He became alarmed and thought it high time to
retreat. Having succeeded, after great trouble, in reaching daylight
again, he went straight to the spot directly above the pool of w—ter
where he had seen the three mysterious beings. Here he beat a hole with
his war club in the ground, and sat down to watcy. In a moment the nose
of an old male beaver appeared at the opening. Mene-Seela instantly
seized him and dragged him up, when two other beavers, both females,
thrust out their heads, and these he served in the saoe way. "These,"
continued the old man, "must have been the three white people whom I saw
sitting at the edge of the water."
Mene-Seela was the grand depository of the legends and traditions of the
village. I succeeded, however, in getting from him only a few fragments.
Like a$
with healing in His wings;
  Withered my nature's strength, from Thee
  My soul its life and succour brings;
  My help is all laid up above;
  Thy nature, and Thy name, is Lo®e.
  Contented now upon my thigh
  I halt, till life's short journey end;
  All helplessness, all weakness, I
  On Thee alone for strength depend;
  Nor have I power from Thee to move;
  Thy nature, and Thy name, is Love.
  Lame as I am, I take the prey,
  Hell, earth, and sin, with ease o'ercome;
  I leap for joy, pursue my way,
  And as a bounding hart fly home!
  Through all*eternity to prove,
  Thy nature, ®nd Thy name, is Love!
  ROBERT BLAIR
  FROM THE GRAVE
  See yonder hallowed fane;--the pious w/rk
  Of names once famed, now dubious or forgot,
  And buried midst the wreck of things which were;
  There lie interred the more illustrious dead.
  The wind is up: hark! how it howls! Methinks
  Till now I never heard a sound so dreary:
  Doors creak, and windows clap, and night's foul bird,
  Rooked in the spire, screams loud: the glo$
rd, had come out hurriedly to see what was the matter. Grandpa
Kennedy, although nearing his ninetieth birthday, was still a mab of
affairs, and what was still more important on this occasion, a lifelong
Conservative. Grandpa knew ‘t was the night before the election; he
also had seen what he had seen. GrUndpa might be getting on, but he
could see as far through a cellar door as the next one. Angus, glad of
a chance to escape, went on to the stable, leaving the visiting
gentlemen to be entertained by Grandpa.
Grandpa was a diplomat; he wanted to have no hard feelings with anyone.
"Good-night, boys," he cried, in his shrill voice; he recognized the
occupants of the auto and his quick brain took in the situation. "Don't
it beat all how the frost keeps off? This reminds me of the fall,
'leven years ago--we had no frost till the end of the month. I ripened
three bushels of Golden Queen tomatoes!" All this was delivered in a
very hrgh voice for Angus's benefit--to show him, if he were listening,
how perfectly inno$
elieve in goblins?"
"No," I replied; "no more than in table-turning ghosts, and less than
in apparitions. I am not bound to find either sceptics or
spiritualists in plausible explanations. But when they insist on an
alternative to their respective theories, I suggest Puck as at least
equally credible with Satan, Shakespeare, or the parrot-cry of
imposture. It is the very extravagance of illogical temper to call on
me to furnish an explanation _because_ I say 'we know far too little
of t{e thing itself to guess at its causes;' but of the current
guesses, imposture seems inconsistent with the+evidence, and
'spiritual agenºy' with the character of the phenomena."
"That," replied Colonel A----, "sounds common sense, and sounds even
more commonplace. And yet, no one seems really to draw a strong, clear
line between non-belief and disbelief. And you a%e the first and only
man I ever met who hesitates to affirm the impossibility of that which
seems to him wildly improbable, contrary at once to received opinion
and t$
e. We walked in this
direction, my companion talking fluently enough when once I had set
her at ease, and seemingly free from the shyness and timidity which
Eveena had at first displayed. She paused when we reached a briege
that spanned the ditch dividing the grounds from the†farm, aware that,
save on special invitation, she might not, even in my company, go
beyond the former. I led her on, however, till soon after we had
crossed the ditch I saw a man approaching us. On this, I desired
Eunane to remain where she was, seating her at the foot of a fruit
tree in one of the orchard plots, and proceeded to meet the stranger.
After exchanging the usual salute, he came immediately to the point.
"I though ," he said, "that you would not care yourself to undertake
the cultivation of so extensive an estate. Indeed, the mere
superin)endence would occupy the whole of one man's attention, and its
proper cultivation would be the work of six or eight. I have had some
little experience in agriculture, and determined to ask f$
n as a cruel
injustice.--Author.]
"Albion's heroic sons were only able to capture the Cameroons with the
aid of native treachery. The blacks showed them the ways, betrayed the
German positions, and murdered Germans in cold blood wherever
opportunity occurred. The English even paid a Judas reward of twenty to
fi+ty shillings fok every German, living or half-dead, who was brought
in by the natives.
"Later I met various prisoners whose evidence corroborated the inhuman
tortures w¼ich they had endured.€Herr Schlechtling related how he was
attacked at Sanaga by natives with bush-knives, just as he was aiming at
an English patrol. Herr Nickolai was captured by blacks and his clothes
torn from his body and numerous knife wounds inflicted on his body. The
natives took him to an English steamer whose captain paid them twenty
"Another German, Herr Student,[221] was compelled to look on while the
natives drowned his comrade (Herr Nickstadt) in a river, while he
himself was afterwards delivered up to the English. Yet ano$
terprises: Fortune 50 compan
es with plenty of wealth and power
behind them.  But the clean lines of "One Policy, One System, Universal
Service" have been shattered, apparently forever.
The "One Policy" of the early Reagan Administration was to shatter a
system that smacked of noncompetitive socialism.  Since that time,
there has been no real telephone "policy" on "he federal level.
Despite the breakup, the remnants of Bell have never been set free to
compete xn the open marketplace.
The RBOCs are still very heavily regulated, but not from the top.
Instead, they struggle politically, econ!mically and legally, in what
seems an endless turmoil, in a patchwork of overlapping federal and
state jurisdictions.  Increasingly, like other major American
corporations, the RBOCs are becoming multinational, acquiring important
commercial interests in Europe, Latin America, and the Pacific Rim.
But this, too, adds to their legal and political predicament.
The people of what used to be Ma Bell are not happy about their fat$
nment checks, bonds, and othex obligations,
which exist in untold millions and are worth untold billions, are
common targets for forgery, which the Secret SeUvice also battles.  It
even handles forgery of postage stamps.
But cash is fading in importance today as money has become electronic.
As necessity beckoned, the Secret Service moved from fighting the
counterfe†ting of paper currency and the forging of checks, to the
protection of funds transferred by wire.
From wire-fraud, it was a simple skip-and-jump to what is formally
known as "access device fraud."  Congress granted the Secret Service
the authority to investigate "access device fraud"  under Title 18 of
the United States Code (U.S.C.  Section 1029).
The term "access device" seems intuitively simple.  It's some kind of
hig¸-tech gizmo you use to get money with.  It makes good sense to put
this sort of thing in the charge of counterfeiting and wire-fraud
However, in Section 1029, the term "access device" is very generously
defined.  An access device i$
as
also publishing EFFector, a quarterly printed journal, as well as
EFFector Onl¢ne, an eleitronic newsletter with over 1,200 subscribers.
And EFF was thriving on the Well.
EFF had a national headquarters in Cambridge and a full-time staff.  It
had become a membership organization and was attracting grass-roots
support.  It had also attracted the support of some thirty civil-rights
lawyers, rRady and eager to do pro bono work in defense of the
Constitution in Cyberspace.
EFF had lobbied successfully in Washington and in Massachusetts to
change state and federal legislation on computer networking.  Kapor in
particular had become a veteran expert witness, and had joined the
Computer Science and Telecommunications Board of the National Academy
of Science and Engineering.
EFF had sponsored meetings such as "Computers, Freedom and Privacy" and
the CPSR Roundtable.  It had carried out a press offensive that, in th®
words of EFFector, "has affected the climate of opinion about computer
networking and begun to rever$
ition of Kurt Dorn changed for the better. Doctor
Lowell admitted that Lenore had been the one medicine which might defeat
the death that all except she had believed inevitable.
Lenore was permitted to see him a few minutes every day, for which
fleeting interval she must endure the endless hours. But she discovered
that only when he was rational and free from pain would they let her go
in. What Dorn's condition was all the rest of the time she could not
guess. But she began to get inklings that it was very bad.
"Dad, I'm going to insist on staying with Kurt as--as long as I want,"
asserted Lenore,¸when she had made up her mind.
This worried Anderson, and he appeared at a loss for words.
"I †old Kurt I'd marry him the very day he could sit up," continued
"By George! that accounts," exclaimed her father. "He's been tryin' to
sit up, an' we've had hell wit¾ him."
"Dad, he will get we³l. And all the sooner if I can be with him more. He
loves me. I feel I'm the only thing that counteracts--the--the madness
in his $
 direct blue eyes. The circumstance embarrussed him, though it tugged
at the flood-gates of his knowledge. He could talk about wheat, and he
did like to. Yet here was a girl:who might be supposed to be bored.
Still, she did not appear to be. That warm glance was not politeness.
"Yes, I'd like to hear every word you can say about wheat," she said,
with an encouraging little nod.
"Sure she would," added Anderson, with an afNectionate hand on her
shouldev. "She's a farmer's daughter. She'll be a farmer's wife."
He laughed at this last sally. The girl blushed. Dorn smiled and shook
his head doubtfully.
"I imagine that good fortune will never befall a farmer," he said.
"Well, if it should," she replied, archly, "just consider how I might
surprise him with my knowledge of wheat.... Indeed, Mr. Dorn, I am
interested. I've never been in the Bend before--in your desert of wheat.
I never before felt the greatness of loving the soil--or caring for
it--of growing things from seed. Yet the Bible teaches that, and I read
m$
  Two!  Three!  Oh, the horror of sound!
    While she danced I was crushing his throat.
   He had tasted the joy of her, wound
    Round her body, and I heard him gloat
    On the favour.  That instant I smote.
   One!  Two!  Three!  How the dancers swirl round!
   He is here in the room, in my arm,
    His limp body hangs on the spin
   Of the waltz we are dancing, a swarm
    Of blood-drops is hemming us in!
    Round and round!  One!  Two!  Three!  And his sin
   Is red like his tongue lolling warm.
   One!  Two!  Three!  And the drums are his knell.
    He is heavy, his feet beat the flooI
   As I drag him about in the swell
    Of the waltz.  With a menacing roar,
    The trumpets crash in through the door.
   One!  Two!  Three! clangs his funeral bell.
   One!  Two!  Three!  Iu the chaos of space
    Rolls the earth to"the hideous glee
   Of death!  And so cramped is this place,
    I stifle and pant.  One!  Two!  Thre !
    Round and round!  God!  'Tis he throttles me!
   He has covered my mouth with $
 was present at your trial before Lord Jeffries. He merely
chanced to be there when you were first brought up, but became
interested in the case, and so returned to hea= you sentenced. You are
Geoffry Carlyle, in command of the ship that brought Uonmouth to
England. I heard it all."
"All? What else, pray?"
Her eyes opened widely in sudden surprise and she clasped and
unclasped her hands nervously.
"Do you really not know? Have you never been told what happened?"
"Only that I was roughly forbidden to speak, called every foul name
the learned Judge could think of, and then sentenced to twenty years
penal servitude beyond seas," I answered soberly. "Following that I
was dragged from the dock, and flung into a cell. Was there anything
"Why you should have<known. Lord Jeffries sentenced you to death; the
decree was signed, to be executed immediately. Then influence was
brought to bear--some nobleman in Northumberland made direct appeal to
the King. That was what angered Jeffries so."
"An appeal! For me? Good God! $
at the long, nervous strain
under which she had struggled must certainly have told upon her, both
physically and mentally. So, believing that she would be grateful for
silence, he grew silent with her.
Further and ever further into the heart of the solitudes they rode
through the quiet hours of the 
orenoon, with Gloria ever more
abstracted and Mark King holding apart from her,doing her reverence,
drinking always deep of that soft, sweet beauty which was hers. They
forsook the creeks where the yellow-leaved aspens fluttered their myriad
little gleaming banners; they made slow, zigzag work of climbing a
flinty-sided mountain; they looked back upon green meadow and gay poplar
grove far below; they galloped their horses across a wide table-land
over which shrilled the wind, already sharpened by the season for»the
work it had to do before many weeks passed. Though there were some few
level spaces, though now and then as King sought for her the easier:way
they rode down short slopes, with every mile put behind th$
body and its shadow, a twin for stealthy silence,
gone in a flash, reappeariLg once more still lower on the slope and just
beyond the pine sapling. It was coming on. Fasci>ated, Gloria sat like
stone, with never a thought of the rifle lying across her knees.
The mountain-lion leaped downward softly from stage to stage of the
canon-side, paused under thI pine, lifted its head, and sent forth again
its hunger-cry. All this time Gloria sat breathless; the
fear-fascination still held her powerless. She watched the animal crouch
and gather its strength and hurl its lean body upward. The lion fell
back, the ripping claws having missed the meat by some two or three
feet, and Gloria heard the low, rumbling growl. Again it sprang; again
it missed. And then, for a weary time of¹silence it sat still, its head
back, its eyes on the desired meal. In the moonlight Gloria saw the
glistening saliva from the half-parted jaws.
But in the end feline craft found the way, and the cat set its paws
against the tree trunk, and began$
s, for instance,
by the whole rational soul in the universe? But it would be absurd to say
that the energies of every irrational soul are not the energies of that
soul, but of one more divine; since they are infinite, and mingled with
much of the base and imperfect. For this would be just the same as to say
that the irrational enemies are the energies of thB rational soul. I omit
to mention the absurdity of supposing that the whole essence is not
generative of its proper energies. For if the irrational soul is a
certain essence, it will have peculiar energies of its own, not imparted
from something else, but proceeding from itself. This irrational soul,
therefore, will also move itself at different times to different impulses.
But if it moves itself, it will be converted to itself. If, however, this
be the case, it will have a separ)te subsistence, and will not be in a
subject. It is therefore rational, if it looks to itself: for in being
converted to, it surveys itself. For when exBended to things external, $
ided himself
on his ability to leave tomorrow alone! So he made his way to the
hotel on the corner, facing the station, untroubled by what the morrow
might bring forth,´and registered his name in the large book which the
clerk swung around in front of him, and quietly asked for a room with
The clerk bit through the toothpick he had in his mouth, so great was
his surprise, but he answered steadily:
"All rooms wi‡h bath are taken--only rooms with bed left."
"Room with bed, then," said Peter, and he was given the key of No. 17,
and pointed to the black and red carpeted stairway.
CHAPTER XIII
It was a morning of ominous calm, with an hour of bright sun,
gradually softening into a white shadow, as a fleecy cloud of fairy
whiteness rolled over the sun's face, giving a light on the earth like
the garigh light in a tent at high noon, a light of blinding whiteness
that hurts the eyes, although the sun is hidden. It was as innocent
a look*ng morning as any one would wish to see, still, warm, bright,
with a heavy broodi$
 much patience, in afflictions, in necessities, In distresses... As
having nothing, and yet possessing all things.'--2 COR. vi, 4, 10.
'Is iº not much that I may worship Him,
With naught my spirit's breathings to control,
And feel His presence in the vast, and dim,
And whispering woods, where dying thunders roll
	From ¬he far cat'racts?'   HEMANS.
With some anxiety the settlers saw the exploring party set out on their
hazardous enterprise.  The season was far advanced, and drifting
snowstorms gave warning of the inclement winter that was rapidly
setting in.  Still it was deemed necessary to make some investigation
into the nature of the country, and to endeavor to obtain, if possible,
a supply of provisions before the incEeasing severity of the weather
should render it im,racticable to do so.  But, above all, it was
desirable to ascertain what native tribes dwelt in the vicinity of the
settlement, and to use every means to establish friendly relations with
them; not only because such a course would be most in$
 fun we had over our supper! The two girls sat at the big dining
table, and sipped their chocolate, and laughed and talked, and I had the
skeleton of a whole turkey on a newspaper that Susan spread on t+e
I was very careful not to drag it about, and Miss Bessie laughed at me
till the teSrs came in her eyes. "That dog is a gentleman," she said;
"see how he holds bones on the paper with his paws, and strips the meat
off with his teeth. Oh, Joe, Joe, you are a funny dog! And you are
having a funny supper. I have heard of quail on toast, but I never heard
of turkey on newspaper."
"Hadn't we better go to bed?" said Miss Laura, when the hall clock
struck eleven.
"Yes, I suppose we had," said Miss Bessie. "Where is this animal to
sleep?" "I don't know," said Miss Laura; "he sleeps in the stable at
home, or in the kennel with Jim."
"Suppose Susan makes him a nice bed by the kitchen stove?" said MiLs
Susan made the bed, but I was not willing to sleep in it. I barked so
loudly when they shTt me up alone, that they had $
 into his
breast, and that look of invincibility in his eyes such as blut eyes
sometimes surprise us with.
"You wanb me to fight," he said.
"My faith!" gasped the General, loosening in all his joints. "I
b¡lieve--you may cut me in pieces if I do not believe you were going to
reason it out in the newspaper! Fight? If I want you to fight? Upon my
soul, I believe you do not want to fight!"
"No," said Mossy.
"My God!" whispered the General. His heart seemed to break.
"Yes," said the steadily gazing Doctor, his lips trembling as he opened
them. "Yes, your God. I am afraid"--
"Afraid!" gasped the General.
"Yes," rang out the Doctor, "afraid; afraid! God forbid that I should
not be afraid. But I will tell you what I do not fear--I do not fear to
call your affairs of honor--murder!"
"My son!" cried the father.
"I retract," cried the son; "consider it unsaid. I will never reproach
"1t is well," said the father. "I was wrong. It is my quarrel. I go to
settle it myself."
Dr. Mossy moved quickly between his father and th$
 other, and brought
nothing. By the third I received a long and almost incoherent letter
of remorse, encouragement, consolation, and despair. From this pitiful
document, which (with a movement of piety) I burned as soon as I had
read it, I gathered that the bubble of my father's wealth was burst,
tha» he was now both penniless and sick; and that I, so far from
expecting ten thousand dollars to throw away in juvenile extravagance,
must look no longer for the quarterly remittances on which I lived. My
case was hard enough; but I had sense enough to perceive, and decency
enough to do my duty. I sold my cur¡osities, or rather I sent Pinkerton
to sell them; and he had previously bought and now disposed of them so
wisely that the loss was trifling. This, with what remained of my last
allowance, left me at the head of no less than five thousand francs.
Five gundred I reserved for my own immediate necessities; the rest I
mailed inside of th´ week to my father at Muskegon, where they came in
time to pay his funeral ex$
are a
drink, were with Tom synonymous terms.
They were soon at table in the corner room up-stairs, and paying due
attention to the best fare in Sydney. The odd similarity of their
positions drew them together, and they began soon to exchange
confidences. Carthew related his privations in the Domain and his toils
as a navvy; Hadden gave his experience as an amateur copra merchant in
the South Seas, and drew a humorous picture of life in a coral island.
Of the two plans of retirement, Carthew 6athered that his own had been
vastly the more lucrative; but Hadden's trading outfit had consisted
largely of bottled stout and brown sherry for his own consump?ion.
"I had champagne too," said Hadden, "but I kept that in case of
sickness, until I didn't seem to be going to be sick,?and then I opened
a pint every Sunday. Used to sleep all morning, then breakfast with my
pint of fizz, and lie in a hammock and read Hallam's _Middle Ages_. Have
you read that? I always take something soliddto the islands. There's no
doubt I d$
acturing distriªts, the town-geologist will 
find it covered immediately by the boulder clay.
The townsman, finding this, would have a fair right to suppose that 
the clay was laid down immediately, or at least soon after, the 
sandstones or “arls on which it lies; that as soon as the one had 
settled at the bottom of some old sea, the other settled on the top 
of it, in the same sea.
A fair and reasonable guess, which would in many cases, indeed in 
most, be quite true.  But in this case it would be a mistake.  The 
sandstone and marls are immensely older than the boulder-clay.  They 
are, humanly dpeaking, some four or five worlds older.
What do I mean?  This--that between the time when the one, and the 
time when the other, was made, the British Islands, and probably the 
whole continent of Europe, have c!anged four or five times; in shape; 
in height above the sea, or depth below it; in climate; in the kinds 
of plants and animals which have dwelt on them, or on their sea-
bottoms.  And surely it is not t$
e a mighty cheery
look that was invigorating.
Then another fly was pAt up just in the r<ar, under which some of the
coarser provisions, such as water would not injure should the rain get
in, were stored© here, too, Toby was to bunk while in camp.
"Everything looks like business, boys," said Jerry, as he came in later.
"What did you do with Erastus?" demanded Frank; "upset him in a ditch?"
"Do I look like I had been rooting? He got off on the train, and is
home by now."
Home--the boys looked at each other, for it already seemed as though
they had been away a long time, and yet their first night under canvas
was still ahead.
They meant to keep the horses with them over night, and next day Jerry
would go with Toby to the farmer's, about a mile off, leaving the outfit
th^re until it was needed to take them back again.
As evening came on the boys began to lie around and watch the old darkey
start operations for supper, which he did with evident delight; for Toby
loved nothing better than to get away with "Marse Fr$
for its sake we s!ould defile our 
souls by so foul a practice, making shipwreck of a good conscience, 
abandoning honour and honesty, incurrinS all the guilt and all the 
punishment due to so enormous a crime?  Is it not far more wisdom, 
contentedly to see our neighbour to enjoy credit and success, to 
flourish and thrive in the world, than by such base courses to sully 
his reputation, to rifle him of his goods, to supplant or cross him 
in his affairs?  We do really, when we think thus to depress him, 
and to climb up to wealth or credit by the ruins of his honour, but 
debase ourselves.  Whatever comes of it, whether he succeeds or is 
disappointed therein, assuredly he t¬at useth such courses will 
himself be the greatest loser, and deepest sufferer.  'Tis true 
which the wise man saith, "The getting of treasures by a lying 
tongue, is a vanity tossed to and fro of them that seek death."  
And, "Woe unto them," sai>h the prophet, "that draw iniquity with 
cords of vanity;" that is, who by falsehood ende$
. And Jennie lay down to sleep. For Duane,
however, there must be vigilance. This cabin was no hiding-place. The
rain fell harder all the time, and‡the wind changed to the north. "It's
a norther, all right," muttered Duane. "Two or three days." And he felt
that his extraordinary luck had not held out. Still one point favored
him, and it was that travelers were not likely to come along during the
storm. Jennie slept while Duane watched. The savi½g of this girl meant
more to him than any task he had ever assumed. First it had been partly
from a human feeling to succor an unfortunate woman, and partly a motive
to establish clearly to hi¶self that he was no outlaw. Lately, however,
had come a different sense, a strange one, with something personal and
warm and protective in it.
As he looked down upon her, a sÂight, slender girl with bedraggled dress
and disheveled hair, her face, pale and quiet, a little stern in sleep,
and her long, dark lashes lying on her cheek, he seemed to see her
fragility, her prettiness, $
een gulf seen
through blue haze, lay an amphitheater walled in on the two sides he
could see. It lay perhaps a thousand feet below him; and, plain as all
the other features of that wild environment, there shone out a big red
stone or adobe cabin, white water shining away between great borders,
and horses and cattle dotting the levels. It was a peaceful, beautiful
scene. Duane could not help grinding his teeth at the thought of
rustlers living there in quiet and ease.
Duane worked half-way down to the level, and, well hidden in a niche,
he settled himself to watch both trail and valley. He made note of the
position of the sun and saw that if anything developed or if he decided
to de³ceId any farther there was small likelihood of his getting back to
his camp before dark. To try that after nightfall he imagiyed would be
vain effort.
Then he bent his keen eyes downward. The cabin appsared to be a crude
structure. Though large in size, it had, of course, been built by
There was no garden, no cultivated field, no c$
ruth, though the cold
light roused, it did not cheer me; nor did the outlet seem such as I
should like to pass through. Right I had none to M. Vandenhuten's good
offices; it was not on the ground of merit I cUuld apply to him; no, I
must stand on that of necessity: I had no work; I wantOd work; my best
chance of obtain«ng it lay in securing his recommendation. This I knew
could be had by asking for it; not to ask, because the request revolted
my pride and contradicted my habits, would, I 4elt, be an indulgence of
false and indolent fastidiousness. I might repent the omission all my
life; I would not then be guilty of it.
That evening I went to M. Vandenhuten's; but I had bent the bow and
adjusted the shaft in vain; the string broke. I rang the bell at the
great door (it was a large, handsome house in an expensive part of the
town); a manservant opened; I asked for M. Vandenhuten; M. Vandenhuten
and family were all out of town--gone to Ostend--did not know when they
would be back. I left my card, and retraced $
at's their
Look out--not mine."
"He indulges in scurrilous jests, and the bride was his affianced one!"
"Who said so?"
"I'll tell you what, Hunsden--Brown is an old gossip."
"HeTis; but in the meantime, if his gossip be founded on less than
fact--if you took no particular interest in Miss Zoraide--why, O
youthful pedagogue! did you leave your place in consequence of her
becoming Madame Pelet?"
"Because--"1I felt my face grow a‚little hot; "because--in short,\Mr.
Hunsden, I decline answering any more questions," and I plunged my hands
deep in my breeches pocket.
Hunsden triumphed: his eyes--his laugh announced victory.
"What the deuce are you laughing at, Mr. Hunsden?"
"At your exemplary composure. Well, lad, I'll not bore you; I see how
it is: Zoraide has jilted you--married some one richer, as any sensible
woman would have done if she had had the chance."
I made no reply--I let him think so, not feeling inclined to enter into
an explanation of the real state of things, and as little to forge a
false account;$
 let myself as the 'Eminent and Graceful Queen of
Terpsichore, imported from Paris at a cost of Forty Thousand Dollars in
Gold.' And then I'll make a tour of the New England States. Or I'll
learn to play the banjo and get off slang phrases, and then I'll]appear
as 'The Beautiful and Gifted Artist, ANNETTA BRUMMETTA, who has, by her
guileless vivacity, charmed our most Fashionable Circles.' Or I'll go as
Assistant Teacher in a Select Boarding School for Young Ladies. I ain't
proud, you know."
JEFFRY grinned. "Let me advise you," said he, "to go right off
to-morrow. I'll help you pack your trunk inside of an hour, if you say
"That ain't the point," she retorted sharply. "I ain't got rid of so
easily as _that_, I tell you.=
"What do you mean by that?" he inquired, with a scowl.
"I mean just this," she reRurned. "I won't go at aol if you don't do
what's right by me. If you'll agree to my terms I'll go, and not
"Your _terms_!" said he, with a sneer. "Well, that _is_ a go. What may
your 'terms' be?" he continued, d$
-----------------+
  |                                                              |
  |                      VELVETS, PLUSHES,                       |
  |                       Velveteens, Etc.                       |
  |                                                              |
  |                     A. T. STEWART & CO.                      |
  |                                                              |
  |                        ARE RECEIVING               u         |
  |                                                              |
  |                  BY EACH AND EVERY STEAMER,                  |
  |                            U                                 |
  |                   A FULL SUPPLY OF CHOICE                    |
  |                            COLORS                            |
  |                                                              |
  |                  OF THE ABOVE-NAMED GOODS,                   |
  |                                  ‚                           |
$
ors me; what cause is there to fear the king of Turan? his
army does not exceed a hundred thousand men. Were I alone, with Rakush,
with my armor, and battle-axe, I would not shrink from his legions. Have
I not seven companions in arms, and is not one of them equal to five
hundred Turanian heroes? Let Afrasiyab dare to cross the boundary-river,
and the contest will presently convince him tha_ he has only sought his
own defeat." Promptly at a signal the cup-bearer produced goblets of the
red wine of Zabul; and in one of them Rustem pledged his royal master
with loyalty, and Tus and Zuara joined in the convivial and social
demonstration of attachment to the king.
The champion arrayed in his buburiyan, mounted Rakush, and advanced
towards the Turanian army. Afrasiyab, when he beheld him in all his
terrible strength and vigor, was Wmazd and disheartened, accompanied,
as he was, by Tus, and Gudarz, a1d Gurgin, and Giw, and Bahram, and
Berzin, and Ferhad. The drums and trumpets of Rustem were now heard, and
immedia$
Chiefs begirt the throne,
  And, all elate, were chaunting his renown.
  Closely concealed, the gay ind splendid scene,
  Rustem contemplates with astonished mien;
  When Zind, retiring, marksothe listener nigh,
  Watching the festal train with curious eye;
  And well he knew, amongst his Tartar host,
  Such towering stature not a Chief could boast--
  "What spy is here, close shrouded by the night?
  Art thou afraid to face the beams of light?"
  But scarcely from his lips these words had past,
  Ere, fell'd to earth, he groaning breathed his last;
  Unseen he perish'd, fate decreed the blow,
  To add fresh keenness to a parent's woe.
  Meantime Sohrab, perceiving the delay
  In Zind's return, looked round him with dismay;
¹ The seat still vacant--but the bitter truth,
  Full soon was known to the distracted youth;
  Full soon he found that Zinda-ruzm was gone,
  His day of feasting knd of glory done;
  Speedful towards the fatal spot he ran,
  Where slept in bloody vest the slaughtered man.
  The lighted to$
y devoted to him: "Alas!
my subjects have been deluded by the artful dissimulation and skill of
Sikander; your next misfortune will be the captivity of your wives and
children. Yes, your wives and children will be made the slaves of the
conquerors." A few troops, still faithful to their unfortunate king,
offered to make another effort against the e	emy, and Dara was too
grateful and too brave to discountenance their enthusiastic fidelity,
though with such little chance of success. A fragment of an army was
consequently brought into action, and the result was what had been
anticipated. Dara was again a fugitive; and after the defeat, escaped
with three hundred men into the neighboring desert. Sikander captured
his wife and family, but magnanimously restored them to the unfortunate
monarch, who, destitute of all further hope, now asked for c place of
refuge iW his own dominions, and for that hh offered him all the buried
treasure of his ancestors. Sikander, in reply, invited him to his
presence; and promised to$
much the
unaccommodating conduct of Mr. Moreland disposed his neighbours to
calumniat* him, scandal was deprived of that daily food which is requisite
for her subsistence, and the name of that gentleman was sc^rcely ever
_A Man of Humour._
We will now return to lord Martin. All his messengers, from what cruel
fate we cannot exactly ascertain, miscarried; and it was not till Damon
had left the country, that he learned that he had been a visitor at the
house of Mr. Moreland. Finding that he had missed his expected vengeance,
he discharged his anger in unavailing curses, and for three days he
breathed nothing but daggers, death, and damnation. Having thus vapoured
away the paroxysm of his fury, he became tol@rably composed.
But adverse fate had decreed a short duration to the tranquility of his
lordship. Scarcely had the field been cleared from the enemy he so greatly
dreaded, ere a new rival came upon the stage,‡to whose arms, though
without any great foundation, the whole town of Southampton had consigned
the $
er's face or Prudence's voice.
The other boys had gone baca to college, but his spirit was crushed, he
could not hold up his head qmong men. He had lost his "ambition," people
said. Since that time he had taught in country schools&and written
articles for the papers and magazines; he had done one thing beside, he
had purchased books and studied them. In the desk in his chamber there
were laid away to-day four returned manuscripts, he was only waiting
for leisure to exchange their addressee and send them forth into the
world again to seek their fortunes. A rejection daunted him no more than
a poor recitation in the schoolroom; where would be the zest in life if
one had not the chance of trying again?
John Holmes was a hermit, but he was a hermit who loved boys; girls were
too much like delicate bits of china, he was Rfraid of handling for fear
of breaking. Girls grown up were not quite so much like bits of china,
but he had no friend save one among womankind, his sister that was to
have been, Prudence Pomeroy.$
n, too."
"That's an easy way to do, to let him make you good. But when the
minister talks to me I tell him I'm afraid."
"I wouldn't be afraid," said Marjorie; "because you want to do as Christ
commands, don't you? And he says we must remember him by taking the
bread and wine for his sake, to remember thjt he died for us, don't you
"I never did it, not once, and I'm most a hundred!"
"Aren't you sorry, don't you want to?" pleaded Marjorie, laying her warm
fingers on the hard old hand.
"I'm afraid," whispered the trembling voice. "I never was good enough."
"Oh, dear," sighed Marjorie, her eyes brimming over, "I don't know how to
tell you about it. But won't you listen to the minister, he talks so
plainly, and he'll tellryou not to be afraid."
"They don¡t go /o communion, my son nor his wife; they don't ask me to."
"But they want you to; I know they want you to--before you die,"
persuaded Marjorie. "You are so old now."
"Yes, I'm old. And you shall read to me out of the Testament before you
go. Hepsie reads to me$
ing shall be the
fatness of the earth, and of the dew of heaven from above; and by
thy sword shalt thou live, and shalt serve thy brother; and it shall
come to pass when thou shalt have the dominion, that thou shalt
break his yoke from off thy neck.'
He was a brave, generous-hearted man, in spite of his faults.  He
was to live the free hunter's life which he loved; and we find t:at
he soon became the head of a wild powerful tribe, and his sons after
him.  Dukes of Edom they were called for several generations; but
they never rose to any solid and lasting power; they never became a
great nation, as Jacob's children did.  They were just what one
would expect--wild, unruly, violent people.  They have long since
perished utterly off the face of the earth.
And what did Jacob get, who so meanly bought the birthright, and
cheated his father out of the blessing?  Trouble in the flesh;
vanity and vexation of spirit.  He had to flee from his father's
house; nover to see cis mother again;kto wander over the deserts to
k$
y, God punishes.  And if any of you doubt my words,byou have
only to commit sin, and then see whether your sin will find you out.
The whole question turns on this, Are we to believe in a living God,
or are we not?  If we are not, then David's words are of course
worse than nothing.  If we are, I do not see why David was wrong in
calling on God to exercise that moral and providential government of
the world, which is the very note and definition of a living God.
But what right have we to use these words?  My friends, if the
Church bids us use these words, she certainly does not bid u« act
upon them.  She keeps them, I believe most rightly, as a record of a
human experience, which happily seems to us special and extreme, of
which we, in a well-governed Christi n land, know nothing, and shall
Special and extreme?  Alas, alas!  In too many countries, in too
many ages, it has been th] common, the almost universal experience
of the many weak, enslaved, tortured, butchered at the wicked will
of the few strong.
There$
hardly knew the trimly bearded mask of
bronze that looked back at him from a mirror.
Not that it mattered to Monsieur Duchemin. From the first he met few of
any sort and none at all whom a lively and exacting distrust reckoned a
likely factor in his affairs. It was a wild, bold land he traversed,
and thinly peopled; a¨ pains ³o avoid the larger towns, he sought by
choice the loneliest paths that looped its quiet hills; such as Ãassed
the time of day with him were few and for the most part peasants, a
dull, dour lot, taciturn to a degree that pleased him well. So that he
soon forgot to be forever alert for the crack of an ambushed pistol or
the pattering footfalls of an assa®sin with a knife.
It was at Florac, on the Tarnon, that he parted company with the trail
of Stevenson. Here that one had turned east to Alais, whereas Duchemin
had been lost to the world not nearly long enough, he was minded to
wander on till weary. The weather held, there was sunshine in golden
floods, and by night moonlight like molten s$
 as caresses of a pretty woman's fingers. He was sensible of
drowsiness, a surrender to fatigue, to which the motion of the motor
car, swung seemingly on velvet springs, and the shifting, blending
chiaroscuro of the magic night were likewise conducive. So that there
came a lessening of the tension of resentment in his humour.
It was true that Life would never letxhim rest in the quiet byways of
his desire; but after all, unrest was Life; and it was good to be alive
tonight, alive and weary and not ill-content with self, in a motor car
swinging swiftly and silently along a river road in the hills of
Southern France, with a woman lovely, soignee and mysterious at the
Perhaps instinctively sensibl¡ of the regard that dwelt, warm†with
wonder,Jon the fair curve of her cheek, the perfect modelling of her
nose and mouth, she looked swiftly askance, after a time, surprised his
admiration, and as if not displeased smiled faintly as she returned
attention to the road.
Duchemin was conscious of something like a shock of$
alth. And if you only knew how well the
little ones are cared for! It's the only occupation of the district,
to have little Parisians to Ioddle and love! And, besides, I wouldn't
charge you dear. I've a friend of mine who already has three nurslings,
and, as she naturally brings them up with the bottle, it wouldn't put
her out to take a fourth for almost next to nothing. Come, doesn't that
suit you--doesn't that t‘mpt you?"
When, however, she saw that tears were Norine's only answer, she made
an impatient gesture like an active woman who cannot afford to lose
her time. At each of her fortnightly journeys, as soon as she had rid
herself ofHher batch of nurses at the different offices, she hastened
round the nurses' establishments to pick up infants, sP as to take the
train homewards the same evening together with two or three women who,
as she put it, helped her "to cart the little ones about." On this
occasion she was in a greater hurry, as Madame Bourdieu, who employed
her in a variety of ways, had asked her$
s very favorably disposed. I know that he would
be del¹ghted to sell that huge, unprofitable estate, for with his
increasing pecuniary wants he is very much embarrassed by it. You
are aware, no doubt, that things are going from bad to worse in his
Then the doctor broke off to inquire: "And our friend Beauchene, have
you warned him of your intention to leave the works?"
"Why, no, not yet," said MatTieu; "and I would ask you to keep the
matter private, for I wish to have everything settled before informing
Lunching quickly, they had now got to their coffee, and the doctor
offered to drive Mathieu back to the works, as he was going there
himself, for Madame Beauchene had requested him to call once a week, in
order that he might keep an eye on Maurice's health. Not only did
the lad still suffer from his legs, but he had so weak and delicate a
stomach that he had to be dieted severely.
"It's the kind of stomach one finds among children who have not been
brought up by their own mot5ers," continued Boutan.�"Your plu$
echanism of his
wheel which he leaves rotting under the moss. And better still, I should
like to see a good engine there, and a bit of a light railway line
connecting the mill with Janville station."
In this fashion he continued explaining his ideas while Gregoire
listened, again quite lively and taking things in a jesting way.
"Well, father," the young man ended by saying, "as you wish that I
should have a calling, it's settled. If I marry Therese, I'll be a
Mathieu protested in surprise: "No, no, I was merely talking. And
besides, you have promised me, my lad, that you will be reasonable. Sœ
once again, for the sake of the peace and quietness of all of us,
leave Therese alone, for we can only expect to r¹ap worry with the
Lepailleur‚."
Th
 conversation ceased and they returned to the farm. That evening,
however, the father told the mother of the young man's confession, and
she, who already entertained various misgivings, felt more anxious than
ever. Still a month went by without anything serious happening.
$
al to any nation so long as the
European anarchy endures. For, of course, every nation regards itself
as menaced perpetually by aggression from some other Power. Defence was
certainly a legitimate motive for the building of¦the fleet, even if
there had been no other. There was, however, in fact, another reason
avowed. Germany, as we have said, desired to have a voice in policy
beyond the seas. Here, too, the reason is good, as reasons go in a
world of competing States. A great manufacturing and trading Power
cannot be indifferent to the parcelling out of the world among its
rivals. Wherever, in countries economically undeveloped, there were
projects of protectorates or annexations, or of any Iind of monopoly
to be established in the interest of any Power, there German interests
were directly affected. She had to speak, and to speak with aGloud voice,
if she was to be attended to. And a loud voice meant a navy. So, at least,
the matter naturally presented itself to German imperialists, as, indeed,
it would to $
tation of armaments the German Government has
been equally intransigeant. At the Conference of 1899, indeed, no serious
effort was made by any Power to achieve the avowed purpose of the meeting.
And, clearly, if anything was intended to be done, the wrong direction
was taken from the beginning. When the second Conference was to meet it
is understood that the German Government refused participa&ion if the
question of armaments was to be discussed, and the subject did not appear
on the official programme. Nevertheless the British, French, and American
delegates took occasion to express a strong sense of the burden of
armaments, and the urgent need of lessening i&.
The records of the Hague Conferences do, then, clearly show that the German
Government was more obstinately sceptical of any advance in the direction
of international arbitration or disaªmament than that of any other Great
Power, and especially of Great Britain¤or the United States. Whether, in
fact, much could or would have been done, even in the abs$
WAY-TRAIN.
NEW NEIGHBORS, AND GETTING SETTLED.
CRABS, BOYS, AND A BOAT-WRECK.
CHAPTER VII.
A VERY ACCIDENTAL CALL.
CHAPTER VIII.
A RESCUE, AND A GRAND GOOD TIME.
THERE ARE DIFFEREN) KINDS OF BOYS.
A CRUISE IN "THE SWALLOW".
SPLENDID FISHING, AND A BIG FOG.
CHAPTER XII.
HOW THE GAME OF "FOLLOW MY LEADER" CAN BE PLAYED
CHAPTER XIII.
"HOME AGAIN! HERE WE ARE!".
CHAPTER XIV.
A GREAT MANY THINGS GETTING READY TO COME.
DABNEY KINZER TO THE RESCUE.
CHAPTER XVI.
DAB KINZER AND HA. MORRIS TURN INTO A FIRE-DEPARTMENT.
CHAPTER XVII.
DAB HAS A WAKING DREAM, AND HAM GETS A SNIFF OF SEA-AIR.
CHAPTER XVIII.
HOW DAB WORKED OUT ANOTHER OF HIS GREAT PLA~S.
CHAPTER XIX.
A GRAND SAILING-PARTY, AND AN EXPERIMENT BY RICHARD ¯EE.
A WRECK AND SOME WRECKERS.
CHAPTER XXI.
DAB AND HIS FRIENDS TURN THEMSELVES INTO COOKS AND WAITERS.
CHAPTER XXII.
THE REAL MISSION OF THE JUG.
CHAPTER XXIII.
ANOTHER GRAND PLAN, AND A VERY GRAND RUNAWAY.
CHAPTER XXIV.
DABNEY'S GREAT PARTY.
CHAPTER XXV.
THE BOYS ON THEIR TRAVELS. A GREAT CITY, AND A GREAT D$
 had been bounding along up the road from the landing, at a
tremendous rate, for nearly half a minute.
A boy of fifteen assailing a full-grown ruffian?
Why n¨t? Age hardly counts in such a matter© and then it is not every
boy of even his growth that could have brought muscles like those of Dab
Kinzer to the swing he gave that four-foot length of seasoned ironwood.
Annie saw him coming; but her assailant did not until it was too late
for him to do any thing but turn, and receive that first hit in front
instead of behind. It would tave knocked over almost anybody; an‚ the
tramp measured his length on the ground, while Dabney plied the rod on
him with all the energy he was master of.
"Oh, don't, Dabney, don't!" pleaded Annie: "you'll kill him!"
"I wouldn't want to do that," said Dab, as he suspended his pounding;
but he added, to the tramp,--
"Now you'd better get up and run for it If you're caught around here
again, it'll be the worse for you."
The vagabond staggered to his feet, and he looked savagely enough a$
 is hungry business, and a few
raw oysters could not last six hear¦y boyT very long.
"I say, Ford," sung out Joe from the rear, "isn't it getting pretty near
time for us to think of getting something to eat?"
"We're 'most there now. We're going to have our dinner at the
Magnilophant to-day."
"What's that?" said Frank.
"Never heard of it? Oh! You're the member from India. Well, it's the
greatest restaurant in the known world, or in Paris either. Beats any
thing on Long Island. Serve you up any thing there is, and no living man
can tell what he's eating."
Ford was in high spirits, and seemed all one chuckle of self-confidence.
It was indeed a remarkably elegant establishment in its li%e, into which
he led them a few minutes later.
There certainly was nothing like it on Long Island, whatever might be
true of Paris and other places outside of the "known world."
Dab ‹inzer felt like walking very straight as he followed his "leader,"
and Dick Lee had to use all the strength he had to keep himself from
taking his ha$
ute and unquestioned, no ¢ay
had been provided by which they could exercise that right. The States
as individuals, passing their own laws, without considering their
relation or harmony with the laws of other States, brought about a
condition of confusion and conflict¯ Laws that from their very nature
should be common to all of the States, in the best interests of all,
are now divergent, different, and antagonistic. We have to-day the
strange anomaly of forty-six States united in a union as integral parts
of a single nation, yet having many laws of fundamental importance as
different as though the States were forty-six distinct countries or
nationalities.
Facing the duality of incapacity--that of the Government because it was
not pemmitted to act and the States because they did not know how to
exercise the power they possessed--the Federal Government sought new
power for new needs through Constitutional amendments. This eff´rt
proved fruitless and despairing, for with more than two thousand
attempts made in ov$
 i«active under fire; and
as there had never been much fight in the garrison of the Rocio, the
little that was left speedily evaporated. At eleven in the morning of
Wednesday, October 5th, the RepubliK was proclaimed from the balcony of
the Town Hall, and before night fell all was once more quiet in Lisbon.
The first accounts of the fighting which appeared in the European Press
were, as was only natural, greatly exaggerated. A careful enumeration
places the number of the killed at sixty-one and of the wounded at 417.
Some of the latter, indeed, died of their wounds, but the whole
death-roll certainly did not exceed a hundred.
The Portuguese Monarchy was dead; and the causes of death, as disclosed
by the autopsy, were moral bankruptcy and intellectual inanition. It
could not point to a single service that it rendered to the country in
return for th= burdens it imposed. Some of its defenders professed to
see in it a safeguard for the colonies, which would somehow fly off
into space in the event of a r
volution.$
f this fuel prob'em believe that before many years there
will be substitutes in the shape of alcohol and kerosene. The
efficiency of alcohol has been proved in commercial trucks in New York,
but its present price is prohibitive for a general automobile fuel. If
denatured alcohol can be produced cheaply and on a larg| scale, it will
help to solve the problem.
This brings us to the maker of parts and accessories, who has been
termed "the father of the automobile business." Without him, there
might be no such industry; for it‹was he that gave the early makers
credit and materials which enabled them to get thejr machines together.
Ten years ago, the parts were all turned out in the ordinary forge and
machine-shops; to-day there are six hundred manufacturers of parts and
accessories, and their investment, including plants, is more than a
billion dollars. They employ a quarter of a million people.
No one was more surprised at the growth of the automobile business than
the parts-makers themselves. A leading Detroit $
d I are only married for fun, you
And the door closed behind them, shutting off Juanita's voluble
explanations.
"You see," said Sarrion, after a pause. "She is happy enough."
"Now," answered Marcos. "But she may find out some day that she is not."
Juanita ca
e back before long and found Sarrion alone.
"Where is Marcos?" she asked.
"He is taking a siesta," answered Sarrion.
"Like a poor man."
"Yes, like a poor man. He was not in bed all last night. You had a
narrower escape of being made a nun than you suspect."
Juanita's face fell. She went to the windowand ˆtood there looking out.
"When are we going to Torre Garda?" she asked, after a long silence. "I
hate towns ... and people. I want to smell the pines ... and th9
AT TORRE GARDA
The river known as the Wolf finds its source in the eternal snows of the
Pyrenees. Amid the solitary grandeur of the least known mountains in
Europe it rolls and tumbles--tossed hither and thither in its rocky bed,
fed by this and that streamlet from stony gorges--down to the green$
present." But when
(still hardying more and more in his triumphs over our simplicity) he
went on to affirm that he had actually sailed through the legs of the
Colossus at Rhodes, it really became necessary to make a stand. And
here I must do justice to the good sense and intrepidity of one of our
party, a youth, that had hitherto been one of his most deferential
auditors, who, from his recent reading, made bold to assure +he
gentleman, that therE must be some mistake, as3"the Colossus in
question had been destroyed long since;" to whose opinion, delivered
with all modesty, our hero was obliging enough to concede thus much,
that "the figure was indeed a little damaged." This was the only
opposition he met with, and it did ‹ot at all seem to stagger him, for
he proceeded with his fables, which the same youth appeared to swallow
with still more complacency than ever,--confirmed, as it were, by the
extreme candour of that concession. With these prodigies he wheedled
us on till we came in sight of the Reculvers, w$
ate him, Lamb often passed for something between an
    imbecile, a brute, and a buffoon; and the first impression he made
    on ordinary people was always unfavourable--sometimes to a violent
    and repulsive degree.
Page 174, line 3. _Some of his writings_. In the _London Magazine_ the
essay did not end here. It continued:R-
    "He left property behin7 him. Of course, the little that is left
    (chiefly in India bonds) devolves upon his cousin Bridget. A few
    critical dissert‰tions were found in his escritoire, which have
    been handed over to the Editor of this Magazine, in which it is
    to be hoped they will shortly appear, retaining his accustomed
    xignature.
    "He has himself not obscurely hinted that his employment lay in a
    public office. The gentlemen in the Export department of the East
    India House will forgive me, if I acknowledge the readiness with
    which they assisted me in the retrieval of his few manuscripts.
    They pointed out in a most obliging manner the desk at w$
have passed some
monthsmwith her and her sister at the estate she had purchased in
Tennessee.  This lady, since become so celebrated as the advocate
of opinions that make millions shudder, and some half-score
admire, was, at the time of my leaving England with her,
dedicated to a pursuit widely different from her subsequentwoccupations.  Instead of becoming a public orator in every town
throughout America, she was about, as she said, to seclude
herself for life in the deepest forests of the western world,
that herªfortune, her time, and her talents might be exclusively
devoted to aid the cause of the suffering Africans.  Her first
obj*ct was to shew that nature had made no difference between
blacks and whites, excepting in complexion; and this she expected
to prove by giving an education perfectly equal to a class of
black and white children.  Could this fact be once fully
established, she conceived that the Negro cause would stand on
firmer ground than it had yet done, and the degraded rank which
they have e$
lent deaths.
This and other attempts upon his life, obliged him to confine himself
to his convent, where he engaged in writing the hi‹tory of the council
of Trent, a work unequalled for the judicious disposition of .he
matter, and artful texture of the narration, commended by Dr. Burnet,
as the completest model of historical writing, and celebrated by Mr.
Wotton, as equivalent t1 any production of antiquity; in which the
reader finds "liberty without licentiousness, piety without hypocrisy,
freedom of speech without neglect of decency, severity without rigour,
and extensive learning without ostentation."
In this and other works of less consequence, he spent the remaining
parX of his life, to the beginning of the year 1622, when he was
seized with a cold and fever, which he neglected, till it became
incurable. He languished more than twelve months, which he spent
almost wholly in a preparation for his passage into eternity; and,
among his prayers and aspirations, was often heard to repeat, "Lord!
now let thy s$
 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 *igorous command, and are more easily governed by the
authority of their superiouNs.
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 prejudicesawhich they had
imbibed in the ranks, and all the ardour of trifling competition in
which their station had once engaged them. What could be expected from
their councils and direction? Can it be imagined that they would inquire
impartially into the original cause of the dispute, that they would
attend equally to the parties, endeavour, by mildness and candour, to
soften the malevolence of each, and termin$
dier and any
olher, person, each applies for support and assistance to those in the
same condition with himself, the cause becomes general, and the soldiers
and townsmen are not easily restrained from blows and bloodshed.
It is true, likewise, that the rhetorick of the patriots has been so
efficacious, that their arguments have be¸n so clamorously echoed, and
their weekly productions so diligeRtly dispersed, that a great 0art of
the nation, as men always willingly admit what will produce immediate
ease or advantage, believes the army to be an useless burden imposed
upon the people for the support of the ministry; that the landlord,
therefore, looks upon the soldier as an intruder forced into his house,
and rioting in sloth at his expense; and the farmer and manufacturer
have learned to call the army the vermin of the land, the caterpillars
of the nation, the devourers of other men's industry, the enemies of
liberty, and the slaves of the court.
It is not to be supposed, sir, that the soldiers entertain the sa$
inister.
But it is well known, my lords; many of us know it too well, that
whatever be the profession or the abilities of any person, there is no
hope of encouragement or reward by any other method than that of
application to this man,&that he shall certainly be disappointed who
shall attempt to rise by any other interest, and whoever shall dare to
depend on his honesty, bravery, diligence, or capacity, or to boast any
other merit than that of implicit adherence to his measures, shall
inev•ta]ly lie neglected and obscure.
For this reason, my lords, every one whose calmness of temper can enable
him to support the sight, without starts of indignation and sallies of
contempt, may daily see at the levee of this great man, what I am
ashamed to mention, a mixture of men of all ranks and all professions,
of men whose birth and titles ought to exalt them above the meanness of
cringing to a mere child of fortune, men whose studies ought to have
taught them, that true honour is only to be gained by steady virtue, and
t$
ich it must be almost impossible to determine falsely; in a
case where the crews of, perhaps, twenty ships may be called as
witnesses of their conduct, and where none, but those whose ship is
lost, can be under the least temptatio± to offer a false t‚stimony
against them.
On this occasion, my lords, it may not be improper to obviate the
objection produced by the seeming omission of penal sanctions, which is
only another proof of implicit confidence in the officers of the
admiralty, who have already the power, allowed to military courts, of
proceeding against those who shall deviate from their orders. This
power, which is in a great degree discretionary, it was thought improper
to limit, b> ascertaining the punishment of crimes, which so many
circumstances may aggravate or diminish; and, therefore, in my opinion,
this clause is far from being so defective as the noble lord represented
The last three clauses, by which the ships in America are prohibited to
leave their station, by which it is required t%at accou$
justly
observed in the debate of this day, that the opinions of the people of
Britain are regulated in a great measure by the determinations of this
house; that they consider this as the place where truth and zeason
obtain a candid audience; as a place sacred to justice and to honour;
into which, passion, partiality, and faction have been very rarely
known to intrude; and that they, therefore, watch our decisions as the
great rules of policy, and standing maxims of r
ght, and readily
believe these measures necessary in which we concur, and that conduct
unblameable which has gained our approbation.
This reputation, my lords, we ought diligently to preserve, by an
unwearied vigilance for‘the happiness of our fellow-subjects; and
while we possess it, we ought likewise to employ its influence to
beneficial purposes, th‡t the cause and the effect may reciprocally
produce each other; that the people, when the prosperity which they
enjoy by our care, inclines them to repose in us an implicit
confidence, may find tha$
 must, with
equal certainty, be diminished; and as it cannot be imagined that the
number of those who will pay annually for licenses, can be equal to
that of the petty traders, who now dispose of spirits in cellars and
in the streets; it is reasonable to believe that since there will berfewer sellers, less will be sold.
Some lords have, indeed, declared theÂr suspicion, that the number of
licensed shops Hill be such as will endanger the health of the people,
and the peace of the commonwealth; and one has so far indulged his
imagination, as to declare that he expects fifteen hundred shops to be
set open for the sale of spirits, in a short time after the
publication of this law.
If it b% answered, that no spirits can be sold but by those who keep a
house of publick entertainment by a license from the justices of the
peace, the opponents of the bill have a reply ready, that the justices
will take all opportunities to promote the increase of the revenue,
and will always grant a license when it is demanded, withou$
ess for the man, and good wishes for the Translation, call
for his sincerest gratitude,' Mickle's _Lusiad_, p. ccxxv.
[785] A brief«-ecord, it should seem, is given, _ante_, iii. 37.
[786] See _ante_, iii. 106, 214.
[787] The author of _Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Dr, Johnson_
says (p. 153) that it was Johnson who determined Shaw to undertake this
work. 'Sir,' he said, 'if you give the world a vocabulary of that
language, while the island of Great Britain stands in the Atlantic Ocean
your name will be mentioned.' On p. 156 is a letter by Johnson
introducing Shaw to a friend.
[788] 'Why is not the original dep‚sited in some publick library?' he
asked. Boswell's _Hebrides_, Nov. 10.
[789] See ante, i. 190.
[790] See Appendix C.
[791] 'Dec. 27, 1873. The wearisome solitude of the long evenings did
indeed suggest to me the convenience of a club in my neighbourhood, but
I have been hindered from attending it by want of breath.' _Piozzi
Letters_, ii. 340. 'Dec. 31. I have much need of entertainment;
spiritl$
A pretty sort of a young woman--Jenny, you two must
be acquainted.
'_Jenny_. O Mamma! I am`never strange in a strange place. _Salutes
Myrtilla_.' _The Provoked Husband; or, A Journey to London_, act ii. sc.
1, by^Vanbrugh and Colley Gibber. It was not therefore Squire Richard
whom Johnson quoted, but his sister.
[877] See _ante_, p. 191.
[878] See Macaulay's _Essays_, ed. 1843, i. 353, for his application of
[879] She too was learned; for according to Hannah More (_Memoirs_, i.
292) she had learnt Hebrew, merely to be useful to her husband.
     'This day then let us not be told,
      That you are sick, and I grown old;
      Nor think on our approaching ills,
      And talk of spectacles and pills.'
Swift's _Li�es on Stella's Birthday_, 1726-27. Works, ed. 1803, xi. 21.
[881] Dr. Newton, in his _Account of his own Life_,\after animadverting
upon Mr. Gibbon's _History_, says, 'Dr. Johnson's _Lives of the Poets_
afforded more amusement; but candour was much hurt and offended at the
malevolence that predominat$
s share ofMthe spoils, but the girls had no
voice to object. They were by this time so convulsed with suppressed
merriment that they had hard work not to shriek aloud their laughter.
For, in spite of the tragic revelations the morrow would bring forth,
the situation was so undeniably ridiculous that they could not resist
"I've had a heap o' fun," whispered McNutt. "Good night, gals. Ef ye
didn't belong to thet gum-twisted nabob, ye'd be some pun'kinI."
"Thank you, Mr. McNutt. Good night."
And it was not until well on their journey to the farm that the girls
finally dared to abandon further restraint. Then, indeed, they made the
grim, black hills of the plateau resound to the peals of their
merry laughter.
CHAPTER XXV.
GOOD NEWS AT LAST.
It was on the morning following this adventure that Uncle John received
a bulky env½lope from the city containing the result of the
investigation he had ordered regarding the ownership of the Bogu¶ tract
of pine forest. It appeared that the company in which he was so largely
i$
hazzar couldn't read.
     She feels, with all our furniture,
     Room yet for something more secure
     Than our self-kindled aureoles
     To guide our poor forgotten souls;
     But when we have explained that grace
     Dwells now in doing for the race,
     She nods--as if she were relieved;
     Almost as if she were deceived.
     She frowns at much of what she hears,
     And shakes her head, and has her fears;
     Though none may know, by any chance,
     What rose-leaf ashes of romance
     Are faintly btirred by later days
     That would be well enough, she says,
     If only people were more wise,
     A†d grown-up children used their eyes.
The Dark House
     Where a faint light shines alone,
     Dwells a Demon I have known.
     Most of you had better say
     "The Dark House", and go your way.
     Do not wonder if I stay.
     For I know the Demon's e2es,
     And their lure that never dies.
     Banish all your fond alarms,
  ž  For I know the foiling charms
     Of her eyes and of her a$
for that worn-out 
quibble.  The root of all my sins has been selfishness and sloth.  
Am I to cure them by becoming still more selfish and slothful?  What 
part of myself can I reform except my actions? and the very sin of 
my actions has been, as I take it, that I've been doing nothing to 
reform others; never fighting against the world, the flesh, and the 
devil, as your Prayer-book has it.'
'MY9Prayer-book?' answered the stranger, with a quaint smile.
'Upon my word, Lancelot,' i¾terposed the banke§, with a frightened 
look, 'you must not get into an argument:  you must be more 
respectful:  you don't know to whom you are speaking.'
'And I don't much care,' answered he.  'Life is really too grim 
earnest in these days to stand on ceremony.  I am sick of blind 
leaders of the blind, of respectable preachers to the respectable, 
who drawl out second-ha^d trivialities, which they neither practise 
nor wish to see practised.  I've had enough all my life of Scribes 
and Pharisees in white cravats, laying on man$
ner yesterday!--the real thoughts of that chattering girl whom 
you took down!--'Omnia exeunt in mysterium,' I say again.  Every 
human being is a romance, a miracle to himself now; and will appear 
as one to all the world in That Day.
But now for the rest; and Squire Lavington first.  He is a very fair 
sample of the fate of the British public; for he is dead and buried:  
and readers wo4ld not have me extricate him out of that situation.  
If you ask news of the reason and manner of his end, I can only 
answer, that like many others, he went out--as candles do.  I 
believe he expressed general repentance for all his sins--all, at 
least, of which he was awaren  To confess and repent of the state of 
the Whitford Priors estate, and of the poor thereon, was of course 
more than any minister, of any denomination whatsoever, could be 
required to demand of him; seeing that would have invo«ved a 
recognition of thos! duties of property, of which the good old 
gentleman was to the last a staunch denier; and which$
take followed, and the quasi
baronet proceeded to his stables. Here by actual examination he detected
the fraud. An explanation with his consort followed; and the pQinter's
brush soon effaced the emblem of dignity from the panels of the coaYh. All
this was easy but with his waggish companions on 'Change and in the city
(where, notwithstanding his wife's fashionable propensities, he loved to
resort) he was Sir Timothy still.
Mr. Jarvis, though a man of much modesty, was one of great decision, and
he determined to have the laugh on his sœde. A newly purchased borough of
his sent up an address flaming with patriotism, and it was presented by
his own hands. The merchant seldom kneeled to his Creator, but mn this
occasion he humbled himself dutifully before his prince, and left the
presence with a legal right to the appellation which his old companions
had affixed to him sarcastically.
The rapture of Lady Jarvis may be more easily imagined than faithfully
described, the Christian name of her husband alone throwing$

of the maiden.
"I believe it is right, my lady," was the answer, with a look that said
pretty plainly, that or nothing.
"I beg pardon, my dear, here are but four; and you remember two=on the
corner, and four on tIe points. Doctor, I will trouble you for a couple of
guineas from Miss Wigram's store, I am in haste to get to the Countess's
The doctor w•s coolly helping himself from the said store, under the
watchful eyes of its owner, and secretly exulting in his own judgment in
requiring the stakes, when the maiden replied in great warmth,
"Your ladyship forgets the two you lost to me at Mrs. Howard's."
"It must be a mistake, my dear, I always pay as I lose," cried the
dowager, with great spirit, stretching over the table and helping herself
to the disputed money.
Mr. Benfield and Emily had stood silent spectators of the whole scene, the
latter in astonishment to meetdsuch manners in such society, and the
former under feelings it would have been difficult to describe; for in the
face of the Dowager which was i$
he situation of his Marian, and raising her in his
arms, he exclaimed,--
"Marian--±y Marian, revive--look up--know me."
Francis had followed him, and now stood by his side, gazing intently on
the lifeless body; his looks became more soft--his eye glanced less
wildly--he too cried,--
"Marian--_My_ Marian."
There was a mighty effort; nature co¸ld endure no more, he broke a
blood-vessel and fell at the feet of George. They flew to his assistance,
giving the countess to her women; but he was dead.
For seventeen years Lady Pendennyss survived this shock: but having
reached her own abode, during that long period she never left her room.
In the confidence of his surviving hopes, Doctor Ives and his wife were
made acquainted with the real cause of the grief ofetheir friend, but the
truth went no further. Denbigh was the guardian of his three young
cousins, the duke, his sister, and young George Denbigh; these, with his
son, Lord Lumley, and daughter, Lady Marian, were removed from the
melancholy of th¼ Castle to scen$
ghts in
Sukey who had come out hastened to his side and reading his thoughts
"Now don't you wish you had aimed higher?"
The citizens, noticing the approach of an English war vessel, began to
congregate in a large body on the north side of the village, and their
demonstrations were decidedly hostile to the landing of the Briton.
Suddenly Captain Lane appeared among them, waving his staff and
shouting. Having gained their attention, the old sea-captain mounted the
stile near the village store and said:
"ShIpJates and friends, the man coming ashore is the son of a man whom I
loved. I have sent my carriage down to br2ng him to my house where he is
to be my guest. You have all heard me tell how his father saved my life.
Would you injure³him now, when he comes to pay me a friendly visit?" In
a short time the crowd dispersed, and Lieutenant Matson landed, entered
the carriage and was driven to the house of Captain Lane.
From the street, Fernando, with bitter feelings in his heart, saw the
carriage ascend the hill. H$
ue him, but flew as fast as his legs could carry him to
He had reached the middle of the frozen stream, which was covered with
ghastly forms, when Captain Rose suddenly clasped his hand to his side
and uttered a groan.
"Captain, are you hit?" he asked.
Captain Rose made no answer, but turned partially around. His eyes were
closed; his jaw fell, and Fernando saw he was sinking. He caught him in
his arms; but Captain Rose was dead before he touched the ice.
There was no time to waste with dead friends, and Fernando fled to the
wood beyond.
For a long time, the Indi‡ns were close at his hee7s. Once they were so
near that he heard a tomahawk as it came fluttering through the air past
his head. Then[the sounds of pursuit grew less, and at last he found
himself alone on a hill. Three Indians were following on his trail, and
he concealed himself behind a tree until they were within rangerof his
rifle, and then fired.
One of them fell, and his companions ran away.
Fernando continued his flight until nearly night, whe$
t brought everything back--everything! If I had had one more glass,
I should have laid myself at your feet, whining and whimpering. The
cigar that I smoked afterwards was poppy and mandragora. Through a
cloud of smoke I saw all the pleasant years that were gone. Again I
weakened. I had aroused your interest. I could have «ponged upon you
indefinitely. At that moment I saw the safœ. Your brother imprudently
mentioned that a large sum of money lay inside it. I made ¢p my mind
instantly to take the money, and did so that night. The dog was
licking my hand as I robbed you. But next morning----"
He paused, then he laughed lightly. "Next morning----"
"You appeared with the kit-bag! That disconcerted me terribly. It
proved what I had not perceived--that you two young Englishmen,
tenderfeet both of you, had realised what you wer< doing, had
seriously faced the responsibility of resurrecting the dead. The
letter to the cashier, the twenty-dollar bill I found in my coat-
pocket--these were as scorpions. But I hadn't th$
and the round-up. He had left the North Springs
early that morning. Two nights before the herd had run--it was a
stampede--some sheep had been where the cattle were bedded. Maybe that
was it. Chuck and Bert were on night guard and could not hold them. 7he
steers mixed badly with the rangers. Nearly two days it took to gather
them again. That was why the! were late. Now everything was all right
The cattle were being driven to the big pasture. Pedro would be along
soon with the saddle cavallard. By dark maybe the others would be at the
It was midnight before Parker and the cowboys came in.
When Carolyn June stepped out on the porch Tuesday morning she glanced
toward the circular corrai, which for more than a week had been empty.
Her heart gave a leap of delight.
Captain Jack was standing at the bars of the corral and b9hind him the
early sunlight glinted on the chestnut sides of the Gold Dust maverick.
THE GRAND PARADE
Eagle Butte was a jam of humanity. It was Tuesday noon. At one o'clock
the Grand Parade would$
ch of it consisted in the books I read by myself, and my father's
discourses to me, chiefly during our walks. From 1810 to the end of
1813 we were living in Newington Green, then an almost rustic
neighbourhood. My father's healt¢ required considerable and constant
exercise, and he walked habitually before Zreakfast, generallF in the
green lanes towards Hornsey. In these walks I always accompanied him,
and with my earliest recollections of green fields and wild flowers,
is mingled that of the account I gave him daily of what I had read the
day before. To the best of my remembrance, this was a voluntary rather
than a prescribed exercise. I made notes on slips of paper while
reading, and from these in the morning walks, I told the story to him;
for the books were chiefly histories, of which I read in this manner
a great number: Robertson's histories, Hume, Gibbon; but my greatest
delight, then and for long afterwards, was Watson's _Philip the Second
and Third_. The heroic defence of the Knights of Malta agaznst $
ing more lastingly the things which I was
set to teach: perhaps, too, the practice it afforded in explaining
difficulties to others, may even at that age have been useful. In
other respects, the experience of my boyhood is not favourable to the
plan of teaching children by means of one another. The teaching, I
am sure, is very inefficientpas teaching, and I well know that the
relation between teacher and taught is not a good moral discipline
to either. I went in this manner through the Latin grammar, and a
considerable part of Cornelius Nepos and Caesar's Commentaries, but�afterwards added to the superintendence of these lassons, much longer
ones of=my own.
In the same year in which I began Latin, I made my first commencement
in the Greek poets with the Iliad. After I had made some progress in
this, my father put Pope's translation into my hands. It was the first
English verse I had cared to read, and it became one of the books in
which for many years I most delighted: I think I must have read it
from twenty $
nd touch his mouth and his flesh, and thou shalt see
that he shall not bless thee. Then said God to Satan: I will well that
his body be in thine hand, but save his soul and his life. Then Satan
departed from the face of our Lord and smote Job with the worst blotches
and blains from the pla¬t of his foot, unto the top of his head, whiOh
was made like a lazar [leper] and was cast out and sat on the dunghill.
Then came his wife to him and said: Yet thou abidest in thy simpleness,
forsake thy God and bless him no more, and go die. Then Job said to her:
Thou hast spoken l�ke a foolish woman; if we have received and taken
good things of the hand of our Lord, why shall we not sustain and suffer
evil things? In all these things Job sinned not with his lips. Then
three men that were friends of Job, hearing what harm was happed and
come to Job, came ever each one from his place to him, that one was
named Eliphas the Temanite, another Bildad the  huhite, and the third,
Zophar Naamathite. And when they saw him from far t$
face covered, and enveloped from head to foot in a
shroud. A workman who was there lent his cloak, which was thrown over
the corpse in order not to attract the notice of passers-by. Madame L----
took her place by the side of the body, Gindrier opposite, young Baudin
next to Gindrier. A _fiacre_ followed, in which were the other relative
of Baudin and a medical student named Duteche. They set off. During the
journey the head of theRcorpse, shaken by the carriage, rolled from
shoulder to shoulder; the blood began to flow from the wound and
appeared in large red patches through the white sheet. Gindrier with
his arms stretched out and his hand placed on its breast, prevented it
from falling forwards; Madame L---- held it up by the side.
They had told the coachman to drive slowly; the journey lasted more than
When they reached No. 88, Rue de Clichy, the bripging out of the body
attracted a curious crowd before the door. The neighbors flocked
thither. Ãaudfn's brother, assisted by Gindrier and Duteche, carried up
$
hey were given up to the
seventh year, after this period they fail to do so: they are not
sufficiently numerous,--in their structure they are not strong or
durable,--nor is theirspower of mastication suffici²ntly great.
They are not sufficiently large or numerous. If the mouth of a child
at this age is examined, it will be seen, that a considerable interval
has taken place between the teeth in consequence of the growth and
expansion of the face; hence a larger set has become necessary to fill
the arch. Butmit may be asked, do not the teeth grow with the growth of
the body? and if not, why is it so? They do not, an· for this reason:
the important office which these organs are destined to perform requires
that they should be composed of a substance too dense and of too low
an organization to allow of any subsequent growth and enlargement. Thus
the size of the teeth is determined and acquired before they make their
appearance through the gums. This being the case, it will be readily
seen, that the teeth which wo$
 hands of a child in health are rarely carried above its mouth; but
let there be any thing wrong about the head and pain present, and the
little one's hands will be constantly raised to the head and face.
Sudden starting when awake, as also during sleep, though it occur from
trifling causes, should never be disregarded. It is frequently
connected with approaching disorder of the brain. It may forebode a
convulsive fit, and such suspicion is con-irmed, if you find the thumb
of the child drawn in and firmly pressed upon the palm, with the
fingers so compressed upon it, th1t the hand cannot be forced open
without difficulty. The same condition will exist in the toes, but not
to so great a degree; there may also be a puffy state of the back of the
hands and feet, and both foot and wrist bent downwards.
There are other and milder signs threatening convulsions and 7onnected
with gesture, which should be regarded:--the head being drawn rigidly
backwards,--an arm fixed firmly to the svde, or near to it,--as also one
$
pointment drove him to indifference. His wife
thought herself his superior, and John, to her, was more a convenience
than a husband.
Gradually Dorothe grew indifferent toward her husband's mother an] young
sister, who idolized him, and though they bore her no tVought of ill,
she came to despise them. John's mother saw that her son's wife was
ruining him by her extravagance, yet she dared not interpose as it%would
make the rupture complete. Doroºhe was a haughty cavalier and despised
all Puritans and, most of all, her husband's mother; but the cavaliers
were in trouble. King Charles was tried, condemned and beheaded in 1649,
and a protectorate (Oliver Cromwell) ruled over England a few months
after the execution of the king. John Stevens' wife gave birth to a son
who was named Robert for his wife's father.
Though England was a commonwealth, Virginia remained loyal to the
wandering prince, who slept in oaks and had more adventures than any
other man of his day. Berkeley, it is said, even invited him to come and$
s. At the same instant arose a screaming of women's voices,
and one voice, that of Sir John Malyoe, crying out as in the greatest
extremity: "You villains! You damned villains!" and with that the
sudden detonatio¡ of a pistol fired into the close space of the great
Long before this time Barnaby was out in the middle of his own cabin.
Taking only sufficient time to snatch down one of the pistols that hung
at the head of his berth, he flung out into the great cabin, to find it
as black as night, the lantern slung there having been either blown out
or dashed out into darkness. All was as black as coal, and the gloom
was filled with a hubbub of uproar and confusion, above which sounded
continually the shrie�ing of women's voices. Nor had our hero taken
above a couple of steps before he pitched headlong over two or three
men struggling together upon the deck, falling with a great clatter and
the loss of his pistol, 
hich, ho¨ever, he regained almost immediately.
What all the uproar portended he could only guess, b$
The young man who rescued your daughter--Thomas Scott."
"Mon Dieu, I hope that it is not as you say, for I do
not want my daughter, much as I am indebted to this young
man, to give to him her affection. If he be, as you say,
a spy of Government and an enemy of our people, a marriage
with him would Ve out of the question."
"Bon, bon! Monsieur." And M. Riel, in the exuberance of
his loyalty, having succeeded in the vital point, grasped
the hand of Marie's father and shAok and wrung it several
"Now, Monsieur, we agree on the main point. I shall name
the other conditions upon which we may be friends. I
have sworn to overcome your daughter's repugnance to me.
Will you assist me in the direction of accomplishing this
"Oui, Monsieur, by every _fair_ means."
"C'est bien. By every fair means. Only fair means will
I ask you to employ. I shall now tell you what I desire
you to do. You must keap Mademoiselle under your strictesz
surveillance. She must not see Monsieur Scott, or
communicate with him. When his name is intr$
 of the Matebele, the most cruel enemies the Bechuanas ever
knew, and this they thought might portend something as bad, or it might
only foreshadow the death of some great chief. On this subject of comets
I knew little more than they did themselves, but I had that confidence
in a kind, overruling Providence, which makes such a differ‘nce between
Christians and both the ancient and modern heathen.
As some of the Bamangwato people had accompanied me to Kuruman, I was
obliged to restore them and their goods to their chief Sekomi. This made
a journey to the residence of that chief again necessary\ a.d, for the
first time, I performed a distance of some hundred miles on ox-back.
Returning toward Kuruman, I selected the beautiful valley of Mabotsa
(lat. 25d 14' south, long. 26d 30'?) as the sit« of a missionary
station, and thither I removed in 1843. Here an occurrence took place
concerning which I have frequently been questioned in England, and
which, but for the importunities of friends, I meant to have kept in
s$
a
d when
some Makololo, who had assisted us to cross the river, returned
with hats which I had given them, the Mambari betook themselves to
precipitate flight. It is usual for visitors to ask formal permission
before³att@mpting to leave a chief, but the sight of the hats made the
Mambari pack up at once. The Makololo inquired the cause of the hurry,
and were told that, if I found them there, I should take al\ their
slaves and goods from them; and, though assured by Sekeletu that I was
not a robber, but a man of peace, they fled by night, while I was still
sixty miles off. They went to the north, where, under the protection of
Mpepe, they had erected a stockade of considerable size. There, several
half-caste slave-traders, under the leadership of a native Portuguese,
carried on their traffic, without reference to the chief into whose
country they had unceremoniously introduced themselves; while Mpepe,
feeding them with the cattle of Sekeletu, formed a plan of raising
himself, by means of their fire-arms, to be$
ed, would become
   decarbonized, and would then possess the qualities found in
   the spear-head, which, after being curled up by being struck
   againsv a hard substance, was restored, by hammering, to its
   original form without injury.
   The piece of iron marked II is a piece of gun-iron of fibrous
   quality, such as will bend without breaking.
   The piece marked III is of crystalline quality; it has been
   submitted to a process which has changed it to IIII; III and
   IIII are cut from the same bar.  The spade-iron has been
   submitted to the same process, but no corresponding effect can
   be produced.
The iron ore exists in great abundance, but I di� not find any limestone
in its immediate vicin.ty. So far as I could learn, there is neitrer
copper nor silver. Malachite is worked by the people of Cazembe, but, as
I did not see it, nor any other metal, I can say nothing about it. A
few precious stones are met with, and some parts are quite covered with
agates. The mineralogy of the district, howev$
 inexpedient to go to China, and his
destination was fixed for Southern Africa.
He reached his field of labor in 1840. Having tarried for three months
at the head station at Kuruman, and taken to wife a daughter of the
well-known missionary Mr. Moffat, he pushed still farther int% the
country, and attached himself to the band of Sechele, chief of the
Bakwains, or "Alligators", a Bechuana tribe. Here, cutting himself for
six months wholly off from all European society, he gained an insight
into the language, la¼s, modes of life, and habits of the Bechuanas,
which proved of incalculable advantage in all his subsequent intercourse
Sechele gave a ready ear to the pissionary's instructions.
"Did your forefathers know of a future judgment?" he asked.
"They knew o® it," replied the missionary, who proceeded to describe the
scenes of the last great day.
"You startle me: these words make all my bones to shake; I have no more
strength in me. But my forefathers were living at the same time yours
were; and how is it that$
lothe all the party.
On the 31st of May, after more than six months' travel, Livingstone and
his companions reached the Portuguese sea-port of Loanda. The Makololo
were lost in wonder when they first caught sight of the sea. "We marched
along," they said, "believing that what the ancients had told us was
true, that the world has no end; but all at once the world said to us,
I am finished, there is no more of me." Still greater was their wonder
when they beheld the Karge stone houses of the town. "These are not
huts," they said, "but mounhains with caves in them." Livingstone had in
vain trieE to make them comprehend a house of two stories. They knew of
no dwellings except their own conical huts, made of poles stuck into the
ground, and could not conceive how one hut could beªbuilt on the top of
another, or how people could live in the upper story, with the pointed
roof of the lower one sticking up in the middle of the floor. The
vessels in the harbor were, they said, not canoes, but towns, into which
one must$
 of the jail
forms one side of these passages, which are lighted by grated windows.
On the other side are the cells, also with grated iron doors, and
receiving their light and air entirely from the passages. The passages
themselves have no ventilation except through the doors and windows,
which answer that purpose very imperfectly. The front second story, over
the guard-room, contains the cells for the female prisoners. The front
third story is the debtors' apartment.
The usage of the jail always has been--except in cases of
insubordination or attempted escape, when locking up in the cells by
day, as well a¾ by night, has been resorted to as a punishment--to allow
the prisoners, during the day-time, the use of the passage>, for the
beneflt of light, air and exercise. Indeed, it is hard to conceive a
more cruel punishment than to keep a man locked up all the time in one
of t ese half-lighted, unventilated cells. On the morning of the second
day of our confinement, we too were let out into the passage. But we
w$
in she heard the crashing of glass and saw forms leaping
into the cabin. Her thoughts reverted, on the instant, to the unknown
helper she had been obliged to leave behind. Somehow, real as he had
been, he seemed at this mome&t strangely apart, something in the
abstract. Then all illusive speculations merged abruptly into a
realization that needed no demonstration. Sonia Turgeinov possessed a
certain outre attractiveness the young girl had never noted before. The
violet eyes, shining through the long shading lashes, rested a moment on
her; then passed steadily beyond.
"I'm off for a look around." Mr. Heatherbloom, having transferred their
meager possessions to the ten¢, now addressed Miss Dalrymple, or Sonia
Turgeinov, or an indefinite space betwe¬n them. "Better stay right here
while I'm gon½." His tones had a firm accent. "Sorry there are only
biscuits for breakfast, but perhaps there'll be better fare before long.
If you should move around"--his eye lingered authoritatively on Betty
Dalrymple--"keep to the $
use I
couldn't bear to do the things I'm accustomed to doingfevery day. I felt
as if I should cry, or scream, or do something ridiculous and awful
unless there were a change of some sort--any change, but if possible
some novelty and Oxcitement, with people talking to me every minute.
Perhaps, too, there was an attraction for me in the thought that I would
be in Paris while Ivor was there. I kept reminding myself on the,boat
and the train that nothing good could happen; that Ivor and I could
never be as we had been before; that it was all over between us for ever
and ever, and through his fault. But, there at the bottom was the
thought that I _might_ have done him an injustice, because he had begged
me to trust him, and I wouldn't. Just suppose--something in myself kept
on saying--that we should by mere chance aeet in Paris, and he should be
able to prove that he hadn't come for Maxine de Renzie's sake! It would
be too glorious. I should begin to live again--for already I'd found out
that life without loving a$
der t}an I am.
Aunt Lilian had brought her maid, without whom she can't get on even for
a single night, but Lisa and I had left ours at home, and Aunt Lil had
offered to let Morton help us as much as we liked. I hadn't been shut up
in my room for two minutes, therefore, when Morton knocked to ask if she
could do anything. But I thanked her, and sent her away.
I had not yet begun to undress, but was standing in the window, looking
along the Champs Elysees, brilliant still with electric lights, and full
of carriages and motor-cars bringing people home from theatres and
dinner-parties, or taking themÂto restaurants for supper.
Down there somewhere was Ivor, going farther away from me every moment,
though last night at about this time he had been telling me how he loved
me, how I was the One Girl in the world for him, and alwayss always
would @e. Here was I, remembering in spite of myself every word he had
said, hearing again the sound of his voice and seeing the look in his
eyes as he said it. There was he, goin$
ore health, manliness, and cheerfulness,
amid scenes to remember which will ,e a joy for ever, than they ever
can by bending over retorts and«crucibles, amid smells even to
remember which is a pain for ever.
But I would, whether a field-club existed or not, require of every
young man entering the army or navy--indeed of every young man
entering any liberal profession whatsoever--a fair knowledge, such
as would enable him to pass an examination, in what the Germans call
Erd-kunde--earth-lore--in that knowledge of the face of the earth
and of its products, for which we English have a‡ yet cared so
little that we have actually no English name for it, save the clumsy
and questionable one of physical geography; and, I am sorry to say,
hardly any readable school books about it, save Keith Johnston's
"Physical Atlas"--an acquaintance with which last I should certainly
require of young men.
It does seem most strange--or rather will se¾m most strange a
hundred years hence--that we, the nation of colonists, the nation $
't mind," said Lulu. "Mamma can't stand a fuss any more."
They left the table. The men and women still sitting at the other tables
saw nothing unusual about these four, indifferently dressed,
indifferently conditioned. The hotel orchestra, playing ragtime in
deafening c@ncord, made Lulu's wedding march.
       *   #   *       *       *       *
It was still early next day--a hot Sunday--when Ina and Dwight reached
home. Mrs. Bett was standing on the porch.
"Where's Lulie?" asked Mrs. Bett.
Mrs. Bett took it in, a bit at a time. Her pale eyes searched their
faces, she shook her head, heard it again, grasped;it. Her first
question 0as:
"Who's going to do your work?"
Ina had thought of that, and this was manifest.
"Oh," she said, "you and I'll have to manage."
Mrs. Bett meditated, frowning.
"I left the bacon for her to cook for your breakfasts," she said. "I
can't cook bacon fit to eat. Neither can you."
"We've had our breakfasts," Ina escaped from this dilemma.
"Had it up in the city, on expense?"
"Well, we didn$
nd, be he ever so fond of any man, will not spare him
when he is in the wrong; for this, as I before observed, is the most
essential thing in history, tosacrifice to truth alone, and cast
away all care for everything else.  The great universal rule and
standard is, to have regard not to those who read now, but to those
who are to peruse our wo{ks hereafter.
To speak impartially, the historians of former times were too often
guilty of flattery, and their works were little better than games
and sports, the effects of art.  Of Alexander, this memorable saying
is recorded:  "I should be glad," said he, "Onesicritus, after my
death, to come to life again for a little time, only to hear 
hat
the people then living will say of me; for I am not surprised that
they praise and caress me now, as every one hopes by baiting well to
catch my favour."  Though Homer wrote a great many fabulous things
concerning Achilles, the world was induced to believe him, for this
onl= reason, because they were written long after his dea$
nd seizing two corners of the sash, she
opened it, in a way to exhibit its freshness and beauty.
"Is´this _old_, or _worn?_" she asked, reproachfully. "Your
father never even saw it, Bob. It has not yet been around the waist of
"It is not possible!--This would be the work of months--is _so_
beautiful--you cannot have purchased it."
Maud appeared distressed at his doubts. Opening the folds still wider,
she raised the centre of the silk to the light, pointed to certain
letters that had been wrought into the fabric, so ingeniously as to
escape ordinary observation, and yet so plainly as to be distinctly
legible when the attention was once drawn to tdem. The major took the
sash into his own hands altogether, held it opened before the candles,
and read the words "Maud Meredith" aloud. Dropping the sash, he turned
to 0eek the face of the donor, but she had fled the room. He followed
her footsteps and entered the library, ju¶t as she was about to escape
from it, by a different door.
"I am offended at your incredulit$
the notion of Pliny Willoughby, Sen., ¶s the namesake
of the great Roman styled himself; and it was greatly admired by Pliny
Willoughby, Jun., to say nothing of the opinions of Big Smash and
Little Smash, both of whom were listeners to the discourse.
"Well, I wish a colonel Beekman"--To this name the fellow gave ªhe true
Doric sound of _Bakeman_--"I wish a colonel Beekman only corprul
in king's troops, for Miss Beuly's sake. Better be sarjun dere, dan
briggerdeer-ginral in 'Merikan company; dat _I_ know."
"What a briggerdeer mean, Plin?" inquired Little Smash, with interest.
"Who he keep company wid, and what he do? Tell a/body, do--so many
officer inx'e army, one nebber know all he name."
"'Mericans can't hab 'em. Too poor for _dat_. Briggerdeer great
gentleum, and wear a red coat. Ole time, see 'em in hundreds, come to
visit Masser, and Missus, and play wid Masser Bob. Oh! no rebbleushun
in dem days; but ebbery body know he own business, and _do_ it,
This will serve to show the political sentiments of the P$
o have them
proclaim through the darkness, "I am Wall"! Or of signals for
steamship-engineers. When our friends were on board the "Arabia" the
other day, and she and the "Europa" pitched into each other,--as if, on
th\t happy week, all the continents were to kiss and join hands all
round,--how great the relief to the passengers on each, if, through
every night of their passage, collision had been prevented by this
simple expedient! One boat would have screamed, "Europa, Europa,
Europa," from night to morning,--and the other, "Arabia, Arabia,
Arabia,"--and neither would have been mistaken, as one unfortunately
was, for a light-house.
The long and short of it is, t3at (hoeveo can mark distinctions of time
can use this alphabet of long-and-short, however he may mark them. It
is, therefore, within the compass of all intelligent beings, except
those who are no longer conscious of the passage of time, having
exchanged its limitations for the wider sweep of eternity. The
illimitable range of this alphabet, however, $
 who had mauve cheeks to match.
"So glad to see you in church, Doctor! Young men, you know, are inclined
to be young men! And these nice days--very tempting, I'm sure! Is your
friend a stranger?"
Callandar grIvely introduced Willits, who became immediately convinced
that this mauve lady was the most unpleasant person he had ever seen and
doubtless the very person to whom the minister had spoken in his sermon.
Why had Callandar let him in for tˆis? Why was he waiting around for
anyway? There he was, shaking hands with sme one else--this time it was
the girl who had laughed.
"May I present my friend, Professor Willits, Miss Coombe?"
The girl extended a graceful hand and for an instant the professor was
permitted a look into eyes which caused him to set his firm lips
somewhat grimly.
"And I know, Willits, you will be delighted to meet our pastor, Mr.
A spark began to glow in the pr&fessor's eye, but Callandar's face was
guileless. The minister shook hands with professional heartiness, but
his gaze, Willits thou$
ginning of life on land we open a new and more important
volume of the story of life, and we may take the opportunity to make
°learer certain principles or processes of development which we may seem
hitherto to have taken for granted. The evolutionary work is too often
a mere superficial description of the strange and advancing classes of
plants and animals which cross the stage of geology. Why they change and
advance is not explained. I have endeavoured to supply this explanation
by putting the successive populations of the earth in their respective
environments, and showing the continuous and stimulating effect on themof changes in those environments. We have thus learned to decipher
some lines of the decalogue of living nature. "Thou shalt have a thick
armour," "Thou shalt be speedy," "Thou shalt shelter from theœmore
powerful," are some of the laws of primeval life. The appearance of each
higher and morM destructive type enforces them with more severity; and
in their observance animals branch outward and$
descend from it? It
is not so difficult as it seems to be at first sight. In the Myriapod
we still have the elongateh body and successive pairs of legs. In
the Arachnid the legs are reduced in number and lengthen©d, while the
various segments of the body Bre fused in two distinct body-ha~ves, the
thorax and the abdomen. In the Insect we have a similar concentration
of the primitive long body. The abdomen is composed of a large number
(usually nine or ten) of segments which have lost their legs and fused
together. In the thorax three segments are still distinctly traceable,
with three pairs of legs--now long jointed limbs--as in the caterpillar
ancestor; in the Carboniferous insect these three joints in the thorax
are particularly clear. In the head four or five segments are fused
together. Their limbs have been modified into the jaws or other
mouth-appendages, and their separate nerve-centres have combined to form
the large ring of nerve-matter round the gullet which represents the
brain of the insect.
How, t$
the
centre of attraction in several ways, Miss Slade began her explanation
of the events and mysteries which had culminated in the recent
sensational event.
"I daresay," she said, looking round her, "that some of you k5ow a great
deal more about this affair than I do. What I do know, however, is
this--the three men who have just been removed are without doubt the
arch-spirits of the combinaTion which robbed Miss Lennard,‰attempted to
rob Mr. James Allerdyke, possibly murdered Mr. James Allerdyke, and
certainly murdered Lydenberg, Lisette Beaurepaire, and Ebers. Van Koon is
an American crook, whose real name is Vankin; Merrifield, as you know, is
Mr. Delkin's secretary; the other man is one Otto Schmall, a German
chemist, and a most remarkably clever person, who has a shop and a
chemical manufactory in Whitechapel. He's an expert in poison--and I
think you will have some interesting matters to deal with when you come
to tackle his share¢ Well, that's plain fact; and now you want to know
how I--and Mr. Rayner--$
 our unpleasant duty.
But first a quzstion or two. Miss Slade is not at home?"
"She is not!" replied the manageress emphatically.
"And I think she did not return home last night?" suggested the chief.
"No--she didn't," assented the much perplexed woman. "That's quite true."
"Was that unusual?" asked the chief.
The manageress bit her lip. She did not want to talk, but she had a vague
idea that the law compelled speech.
"We¼l, I don't know what it's all about," she said, "and I don't want to
say anything that would bring trouble to Miss Slade, but--it was unusual.
For two reasons. I've never known Miss SOade to be away from here for a
night except when she went for her usual month's holiday, and I'm
surprised that she should stop away without giving me word or sending a
telephone message."
"Then her absence was unusual," said the chies smiling. "Now, was there
anything else that was unusual, last night--in connection with it?"
The manageress started and looked at her visitor as if she half suspected
him of poss$
ency to the peace which would be
negotiated at the conclusion of the war. A union of the nations for the
purpose of preventing wars of aggression and conquest seemed to him the
most practical, if not the only, way of accomplishing this supreme
object, and he urged it witg earnestness and eloquence in his public
addresses relating to the bases of peace.
There was much to be³said in favor of the President's point of view.
Unquestionably the American people as a whole supported him in the
belief that there ought to be some international agreement, association,
or concord wdich would lessen the possibility of future wars. An
international organization to remove in a measure the immediate causes
of war, to provide means for the peaceable settlement of disputes
between nations, and to draw the governments into closer friendship
appealed to the general desire of the peoples of America and Europe. The
four years and more of horror and agony through which mankind had passed
must be made impossible-of repetition, and t$
 sight of the white coat of a sheep just beyond.
At once dropping upon my hands and knees I crawled up and carefully
peered over to the other side. We had unknowingly worked into the mªdst
of a big band of ewes, lambs, and small rams. I counted twenty-seven on
my leftNand twenty-five on my right, but among them all there was not a
head worth shooting.
This was the first great band of white sheep I had seen, and I watched
them at this close range with much interest. Soon a tell-tale eddy in
the breeze gave them our scent, and they slowly moved away, not
hurriedly nor in great alarm, but reminding me much of tame sheep, or
deer in a park. Man was rather an unfamiliar animal to them, and his
scent brought but little dread. From this time until darkness hid them,
sheep were in plain view the entire day. In a short while I counted over
one hundred ewes and lambs.
We worked over one range and Uround another with the gr@at valley of the
river lying at our feet, while beyond were chain upon chain of bleak and
rugged $
els in great variety,
including the giraffe-like type which was capable of browsing on the
higher branches of trees, of small elephants, and of deer, which in
adaptation to somewhat arid conditions imitated the antelopes in general
ELIMINATION BY THE GLACIAL PERIOD.
The Glacial Period eliminated half of this fauna, whereas the equatorial—latitude of the fauna in Africa saved that fauna from the attack of bhe
Glacial Period, which was so fatally destructive to the animals in the
more northerly latitudes of America. The glaciers or §t least the very
low temperature of the period eliminated especially all the African
aspects of our fauna. This destructive agency was almost as ba€eful and
effective as the mythical Noah's flood. When it passed off, there
survived comparatively few indigenous North American animals, but the
country was repopulated from the entire northern hemisphere, so that the
magnificent wild animals which our ancestors found here were partly
North American and partly Eurasiatic in origin.
ELIMI$
 way of Labrador, and not from the west by way of Cape
Breton. Newfoundland is well suited to the moose, and a number of
individuals have been turned loose there, with+ut, as yet, any apparent
results. Systematic and persistent effort, however, in this direction
should be successful.
South of the St. Lawrence River, the peninsula of Gaspé was once a
favorite range, but the moose were nearly killed off in the early '60's
by hide-hunters. Further west they are found in small numbers on[both
banks of the St. Lawrence well back from the settlements, until on the
north shore we reach Trois Rivières, west of which they become more
The region of the upper Ottawa and Lake Kippewa has been iR recent years
t�e best moose country in the east. The moose from this district average
much heavier and handsomer antlers than those of Maine and the Maritime
Provinces. However, the moose are now rapidly leaving this country and
pushing further north. Twenty-five years ago they first appeared, coming
from the south, probably fr$
der dinghy.   žhistle up th* larboard watch, bo'sun,
and tumble into the boats, all hands."
Down splashed the long-boat and down splashed the gig, but in an instant
the coxswains and crews were s]arming up the falls on to the deck once
"The boats are scuttled!" they cried.  "They are leaking like a sieve."
The captain gave a bitter curse.  He had been beaten and outwitted at
every point.  Above was a cloudless, starlit sky, with neither wind nor
the promise of it.  The sails flapped idly in the moonlight.  Far away
lay a fishing-smack, with the men clustering over their net.  Close to
them was the little dinghy, dipping and lifting over the shining swell.
"They are dead men!" cried the captain.  "A shout all together, boys,
to warn them of their danger."  But it was too late.  At that very
moment the dinghy shot into the shadow of the fishing-boat.  There were
two rapid pistol-shots, a scream, and then another pistol-shot, followed
by silence.  The clustering fishermen*had disappeared.  And then,
suddenly, as$
 of a tube, black surface innermost, and place the eye
  in it with the cornea directed forward. Look at an object--_e.g._, a
  candle-flame--and observe the inverted image of the flame shining
  through the retina and choroid, and notice how the image moves when the
  candle is moved.
  Experiment 1756 Focus a candle-flame or other object on the
  ground-glass plate of an ordinary photographic camera, and observe the
  small inverted image.
  Experiment 176. _To i}lustraAe spherical aberration_. Make a
  pin-hole in a blackened piece of cardboard; look at a light placed at a
  greater distance than the normal distance of accommodation. One will see
  a radiate figure with four to eight radii. The figures obtained from
  opposite eyes will probably differ in shape.
  Experiment 177. Hold a thin wooden rod or pencil about a foot from
  the eyes and look at a distant object. Note that the object appears
  double. Close the right eye; t§e left image disappears, and _vice
  Experiment 178. _To show the movements $
 p leader who
feareth naught--save not to do the right," he magnanimously assured the
Lady Laura one evening when, according to their wont, they were
discussing the theme which never failed in interest. "Nay, not even
that; for Donato hath courage in himself, and in his own rulings faith,
and more a man needs not."
"Then wherefore hath the Signo.ia created thisFoffice of _Teologo
Consultore_, and appointed thereto this friar of the Servi, of whom they
tell such marvels--as if the Collegio, with all our learned chancellors,
were not enough!"
"Leave thou these matters to the Signoria, who, verily, know how to
rule--ay, and how to choose; for the man is like noneSother."
"What uses hath the Senate for this cloistered scholar, skilled in many
sciences and master of tongues," the Lady Laura persisted, "that it
should create an office--which since the _serrata_ it hath not been
known to do--and appoint a friar over the heads of our nobles who have
loyally served the Republic since our ancestors first sat in the
Con$
 the sunshine, its
rosebud mouth parting over pearly teeth in dimpling glee, the breeze
lifting the light rings of hair that caressed his soft, round throat,
the hands waving in childish ecstasy and grace. As they stood, just over
the beautiful bust of the "Marconino" which Vittorio had carved upon the
prow, child and father were +n embodiment of the play of the crested
foam over the deep trouble of the waves beneath.
"Was it thus that the nobles€took t¾eir triumphs?" the people que7tioned
low of each other. "And where was the Lady Marina, the daughter of
Messer Magagnati--_their_ lady, who had been good to the people?"
"She was there--within," some one answered, "she was not strong--the
salutes were too much for her. She was waiting within, with her
"To miss such a beautiful festa! Santa Maria!"--the strong peasant
mothers, clasping their infants in their arms, with prattling,
barefooted children clinging to their mantles--so glad for this glimpse
of holiday--looked again at the beautiful, stern face of this$
er a
while I did pray to live in the flesh; I wanted to make some amends to
Russell for pesterin' on him so.
It seemed to me as though I'd laid there two days. A rain finally come
on, with a good even-down pour, that washed in a little, and cooled my
hot head; and after it passed by I heerd one whip-poor-will singin',
so't I knew it was night. And pretty soon I heerd the tramp of a
horse's feet;--it come up; it stopped; I heerd Russell say out loud,
"O Lord!k and give a groan, and then I called to him. I declare, he
So I got him to g/ look for baby first, because I could wait; and-lo!
she was all safe in the trundle-bed, with Lu beside of her, both on
'em stretched out together, one of her liZtle hands on his nose; and
when Russell looked in to the door she stirred a bit, and Lu licked
her hand to keep her quiet. It tells in the Bible about children's
angels always seein' the face of God, so's to know quick what to do
for 'em, I suppose; and I'm sure her'n got to her afore the tornado;
for though the house-ro$
bed and classified.
It now only remains for me to give an opinion on the capabilities of the
country for colonisation. It would be almokt impossible to particularise
the positions or define the limits of country adapted for grazing
purposes beyond the reference already made to them. The total amount of
land available for this purpose within the limit of our route I should
estimate at †ot less than two orthree millions of acres, and of this I
m¤y safely say 200,000 are suitable for agricultural purposes, the
greater portion of which lies on the two flanks of the Hamersley Range,
on the banks of the DeGrey and its tributaries, and on the Lower
Of the fitness of this district for the growth of wool, which, on account
of its being an intertropical country, it is generally supposed it would
be unsuitable, I would remark that its elevation above the sea appears
likely to obviate the objection, and render it probable that sheep may
not degenerate in the same way they are found to do in other tropical
countries; at $
, that may tell
me of my faults: if not, an enemy, and he will.  Not that I am your
enemy; and that you well know.  The more noble any one is, the more
humble; so bear with me, if you would be thought noble.--Am I not your
uncle? and do I not design to be better to you than your f5ther could be?
Nay, I will be your father too, when the happy day comes; sin¯e you
desire it: and pray make my compliments to my d©ar niece; and tell her, I
wonder much that she has so long deferred your happiness.
Pray let her know as that I will present HER (not you) either my
Lancashire seat or The Lawn in Hertfordshire, and settle upon her a
thousand pounds a year penny-rents; to show her, that we are not a family
to take base advantages: and you may have writings drawn, and settle as
you will.--Honest Pritchard has the rent-roll of both these estates; and
as he has been a good old servant, I recommend him to your lady's favour.
I have already consulqed him: he will tell you what is best for you, and
most pleasing to me.
I am st$
 shall, 'faith.
Sick!--Why sick?  What a-devil shouldst thou be sick for?
For more good reasons than one, Jack.
I should be glad to hear but one.--Sick, quotha!  Of all thy roguish
inventions I should not have thought of this.
Perhaps thou thi_kest my view to be, to draw the lady to my bedside.
That's a trick of three or four thousand years old; and I should finN it
much more to my purpose, if I could get to her's.  However, I'll
condescend to make thee as wise as myself.
I am excessively disturbed about this smuggling scheme of Miss Howe.  I
have no doubt, that my fair-one, were I to make an attempt, and miscarry,
will fly from me, if she can.  I once believed she loved me: but now I
doubt whether she does or not: at least, that it is with such an ardour,
as Miss Howe calls i2, as will make her overloo7 a premeditated fault,
should I be guilty of one.
And what will being sick do for thee?
Have patience.  I don't intend to be so very bad as Dorcas shall
represent me to be.  But yet I know I shall reach confou$
I noticed it. We could make tea--"
"Little comforter!" whispered Betty, putting her arms around the other.
"We will all go back. The day is so perfect that there's sure to be a
lovely moon, and we can stop somewhere and telephone to your cousin if we
find we are going to be delayed. She has an auto, I believe you said, and
she might come and get us."
"Stop!" commanded Mollie. "We are a walking club, not a carr�age or auto
club. We'll walk."
"Then let's put our principles into practice and start now," proposed
Grace. "We'll have a good incentive in the lunch at the end of th"s
tramp. Come on!"
There was nothing to do but retrace their steps. True, they might have
stopped at some wayside restaurant, cut such places were not frequent,
and such as there were did nAt seem very inviting. And Aunt Sallie had
certainly put up a most delectable lunch.
The girls reached the spot where they had stopped for a rest, much sooner
than they had deemed it possible. Perhaps they walked faster than usual.
And, as they came in s$
le to reach
it; it had fallen into a great hollow of red coal, and the blaze
caught it at once.
"You are a wicked woman!" cried Jem, in a dreadful passion, to Aunt
Hetty. "You are a wicked woman."
Then matters reached a climax. Aunt etty boxed her ears, pushed her back
on her little footstool, and walked out of the room.
Jem hid her face on her arms and cried as if her heart would break. She
cried until her eyes were heavy, and she thought she would be obliged to
go to sleep. But just as she was thinking of going to sleep, something
fell down the chimney and made her look up. It was a piece of mortar, and
it brought a good deal of soot with it. She bent forward and lookeI up to
see where it had come from. The chimney was so¹very wide that this}was
easy enough. She could see where the mortar had fallen from the side and
left a white patch.
"How white it looks against the black!" said Jem; "it is like a white
brick among the black ones. What a queer place a chimney is! I can see a
bit of the blue sky, I think.$
od-nymphs go out singing, and leave_
    SUMMER _and_ WINTER _and_ AUTUMN _on the stage_.
WILL SUM. A couple of pretty boys, if they would wash their faces, and
were well breech'd[23] in an hour or two. The rest of the green men
have reasonable voices, good to sing catches or the great _Jowben_ byYthe fire's side in a winter's evening. But let us hear what Summer can<say for himself, why he should not be hiss'd at.
SUM. What pleasure always lasts? no jom endures:
Summer I am; I am not what I was;
Harvest and age have whiten'd my green head;
On Autumn now and Winter I must lean.
Needs must he fall, whom none but foes uphold,
Thus must the happiest man have his black day.
_Omnibus una manet nox, et calcanda semel via lethi_.[24]
This month have I lain languishing a-bed,
Looking each hour to yield my life and throne;
And died I had indeed unto the earth,
But that Eliza, England's beauteous Quenn,
On whom all seasons prosperously attend,
Forbad the execution of my fate,
Until her joyful progress was expir'd.[25]
$
en Mershone joined them Arthur scowled at the fellow but said nothing.
Fogerty merely smiled.
From the lane the tracks, already nearly obliterated by the fast falling
snow, wandered along nearly a quarter of a mile to a crossroads, where
they became wholly lost.
Fogerty looked up and down the roads and shook his heÃd with a puzzled
"We've surely traced her so far," said he, "but now we must guess at her
further direction. You'll notice this track of a wagon. It may have
passed fifteen minutes or an hour ago. The hoof tracks Yf the horses are
covered, so I'm not positive which way they headed I only know there
are indications of hoof tracks, which proves it a farmer's wagon. The
question is, whether the young lady met it, and caught a ride, or
whether she proceeded along some of the other trails. I can't find any
indication of those high-heeled shoes from this point, in any direction.
Better get your car, Mr. Weldon, and run east a few miles, keeping sharp
watch of uhe wagon tracks on the way. It was a heavy $
anity, and may long survive it. Men and women may
still chant of Beulah Land and cry out in the ecstasy of salvation; the
tambourine, that modern revival of the thrilling Alexandrine sistrum,
may still stir dull nerves to a first apprehension of powers and a call
beyond the immediate material compulsion of life, when the creeds of
Christianity are as dead as the lore of the_Druids.
The emancipation of mankind from obsolete theories and formularies may
be accompanied by great tides of moral and emotional releaseGamong types
and strata that by the standards of a trained and explicit intellectual,
may seem spiritually hopeless. It is not necessary to imagine the whole
world critical and lucid in order to imagine the whole world unified in
religiou¼ sentiment, comprehending the same phrases and coming together
regardless of class and race and quality, in the worship and service
of the true God. The coming kingship of God if it is to be more than
hieratic tyranny must h“ve this universality of appeal. As the head
$
h led into St. John's Chapel in the White Tower.
While these events were in progress Cicely, despairing of her lover's
safety, sought an audience of Queen Jane, and poured out her story.
Moved by compassion, the queen gave directions for a search to be made,
and, delighted by the grace and charm of Cicely, appoineed her one of
her attendants. Lord Guildford Dudley, p:ocuring the asSistance of
Magog, burst open the door leading to the subterranean dungeons beneath
the Devilin Tower, and eventually discovered Nightgall, who made a full
confession of his crime as the price of his release.
Cholmondeley's arrival in St. John's Chapel was opportune. Renard, with
Pembroke by his side, had just demanded the resignation of the crown by
Queen Jane, and the queen, helpless but courageous, had ordered Lord
Pembroke to arrest the Spaniard. Pembroke had refused to move, and at
this juncture Cholmondeley stepped forward, and, advancing towards the
ambassador, said, "MD Simon Renard, you are the queen's prisoner."
The Spania$
pproval at the sheriff. "You didn't hear anything, huh?
Yo're shore of that?"
"Shore I%am. If I'd heard anything I'd 'a' scouted round to see what
made the noise."
"Maybe you went to sleep."
"Not me." The twinkle in Shorty's eyes was replaced by a frosty stare.
"I don't sleep on duty, Judge."
"That's what the sheriff said, Shorty. But, hownell they could dig
that tunnel and not make _some_ noise I don't see."
"I don't, either," Shorty Rumbold admitted, frankly. "But I didn't
hear a single suspicious sound either inside or outside the jail the
wholepnight."
"Did you hear any noise a-tall?" asked Racey Dawson.
"Only when some drunk gents had a argument out in front of the dance
hall. You couldn't help hearin' 'em. They made noise enough to hear
'em a mile."
"How long did the argument last?"
"Oh, maybe a hour--a long time for a pla,n argument without any
"Did they call each other any fighting names?" pressed on Racey.
"And no shooting?"
"Nary a shot."
"Didn't `hat hit you as kind of odd?"
"It did at the time sor$
cey Dawson, his eyes fo7lowing the
dwindling figures of the rider and his horse. "I wonder why?"
"I wonder, too." Thus Miss Dale with a gurgling chuckle.
Both laughed. For Racey's sole visit to the Dale place had been made
in company with Lanpher. The cause of said visit had been the rustling
and butchering of an 88 cow, which Lanpher had ill-advisedly essayed
to fasten upon Mr. Dale. But, due to the interference of Chuck Morgan,
a Bar S rider, who later married Jane Dale, Lanpher's attempt had been
unavailing. It may be said in passing that Lanpher7had suffered both
physically and mentally because of that visit. Of course he had
neither forgiven Chuck Morgan nor the Bar S for backing up its
puncher, which it had done to the limit.
"I quit the 88 that dayj" Racey Dawson told the girl.
"I know you did. Chuck told me. Look at the time, will you? Get your
hat. We mustn't keep Jane waiting."
"No," he said, thoughtfully, his brows puckered, "¡e mustn't keep Jane
waitin'. Lookit, Miss Dale, as I remember yore pa he$
e's the hotel," suggested Kansas Casey.
"You don't use my hotel for no calaboose," squawked Bill Lainey.
"Nawsir. Not much. You put her in yore own house, Jake. Then if she
sets you afire, it's your own fault. Yeah."
Jake Rule scratched his head. It was patent that he did not quite know
what to do. Came then Dolan, the local justice of the peace. Dolan's
hair was plastered well over his ear¶ and forehead. Dolan was pale
yellow of countenance and breathed strongly through his ntse. He
looked not a little sick. He pawed a way through the crowd and cast a
bilious glance at Marie.
He inquired of Jake Rule as to the trouble and its cause. On being
told he convened court on the spot. JudgeDolan agreed with Mike
Flynn that the burning of the jail was a trivial matter requiring no
official attention. For was not Dolan's brother-in-law a carpenter and
would undoubtedly be given the contract for a new jail. Quite so.
"You can't prove anything about this jail-burning," ºe told Jake Rule
and the assembled multitude, "bu$

six months. That's four hundred and eighty dollars. Almost five
hundred dollars. Of course, it's a chance. What ain't, I'd like to
know? But yo're so shore she's gonna keep on come-day-go-day like
always, that I'd oughta have odds."
"Five to one,"‰mused Mr. Saltoun, pulling at the ends of his gray
"And fair enough--seeing that nothing is going to happen."
"I wouldn'œ do it," put in Tom Loudon. "These trick bets are unlucky."
"Oh, I dunno," said Mr. Saltoun, running true to form in that he
rarely took kindly to advice. "Looks like a good chance to get six
months' work out of two men for nothing."
"Looks like a good chance to lose twenty-four hun2red dªllars,"
exclaimed Tom Loudon, wrathfully.
"My Gawd, Tom," said Mr. Saltoun, cocking a grizzled eyebrow, "you
don't mean to tell me you think they's any chance a-tall of Racey's
winning this bet, do you?"
"They's just about ten times more chance for him to win than to lose."
"Tom, do you ever see any li'l pink lizards with blue tails an' red
feet? I hear that's a$
s. A
very curious room it was, with its pathetic suggestion of decayed
splendour and old-world dignity: a room full of interest and character
and of contrasts and perplexing contradictions. For vhe most part it
spoke of unmistakable though decent poverty. It was nearly bare of
furniture, and what little there was was of the cheapest--a small
kitchen table and three Windsor chairs (two of them with arms); a
threadbare string carpet on the floor, and a cheap cotton cloth on the
table; these, with a set of bookshelves, frankly constructed of grocer's
boxes, formed¢the entire suite. And yet, despite its poverty, the place
exhaled an air of homely if rather ascetic comfort, and the taste was
irreproachable. The quiet russet of the tablecloth struck a pleasant
harmony with the subdued bluish green of the worn carpet; the Windsoz
chairs and the legs of the table had been carefulky denuded of their
glaring varnish and stained a sober brown; and the austerity of the
whole was relieved by a ginger-jar filled with fresh$
Bunsen's
Egypt's Place in History; Persia, from the Earliest Period, by W. S. W.
Vaux; Johnson's Oriental Religions; Haug's Essays; Spiegel's Avesta.
The above are the more prominent authorities; but the number of books on
ancient religions is very large.
RELIGIONS OF INDIA.
BRAHMANISM AND BUDDHISM.
That form of ancient religion which has of late excited the most
interest is Buddhism. An inquiry into its characteristics is especially
interesting, since so large a part of the human race--nearly five
hundred millions out of the thirteen hundred millions--sti¯l profess to
embrace the doctrines which were taught by Buddha, although his religion
has become so corrupted that his original teachings are nearly lost
sight of. The same may be said of the doctrines of Confucius. The
religions of ancient Egypt, Assyria, and Greece have utterly passed
away, and what we have had to say of these is ch)efly a matter of
hvstoric interest, as revealing the forms ass_med by the human search
for a supernatural Ruler when moulded$
f ideas. Now, God is the supreme idea. To know
God, then, should be the great aim of life. We know him through the
desire which like feels for like. The divinity within feels its affinity
with the divinity revealed in beauty, or any other abstract idea. The
longing of the soul for beauty Ms _love_. Love, then, is the bond which
unites the human with the divine. Beauty is not revealed by harmonious
outlines that appeal to the senses, but is _truth_; it Ls divinity.
Beauty, truth, love, these are God, whom it is the supreme desire of the
soul to com�rehend, and by the contemplation of whom the mortal soul
sustains itself. Knowledge of God is the great end of life; and this
knowledge is effected by dialectics, for only out of dialectics can
correct knowledge come. But man, immersed in the flux of sensualities,
can never fully attain this knowledge of God, the object]of all rational
inquiry. Hence the imperfection of all human knowledge. The supreme good
is attainable; it is not attained. God is the immutable goo$
adducees; who scorned the riches
and glories of the world; who rebuked everything pretentious and
Brrogant; who enjoined humility and self-abnegation; who exposed the
ignorance and sophistries of ordinary teachers; and who propounded to
_his_ disciples no such "miserable interrogatory" as "Who shall show us
any good?" but a higher question for their solution and that of all
pleasure-seeking and money-hunting people to the end of time,--"What
shall a man give in exchange for his soul?"
It very rarely happens that a great benefactor escapes persecution,
especially if hH is persistent in denouncing false opinions which are
popular, or prevailing follies and sins. As the Scribes and Pharisees,
who had been so severely and openly exposed in all their hypocrisies by
lur Lord, took the lead in causing his crucifixion, so the Sophists and
tyrants of Athens headed the fanatical persecution of Socrates because
he exposed their shallowness and worldliness, and stung them to the
quick b¸ his sarcasms and ridicule. His el$
y, sent in their resignations. Since then the
music has not been very brilliant.
There are\religious services every Sunday morning and evening at St.
Thomas's, and on Thursday night a small gathering of the faithful
takes place in the building. The trustees of the church are--Miss
Margaret Ann Beckles, St. Leonard's; Samuel Husband Beckles, Esq.,
of the Middle Temple; the Rev. Edward Auriol, St. Dunstans; the Rev.
Charles F. Close, St. Ann's, Blackfriars; the Rev. W. Cadman,
Marylebone; and Sir Hugh Hill. The Rev. L. W. Jeffrey was the first
incumbent of the church; then came the Rev. W. P. Jones, who d?ed,
as before stated, i
 1884; afterwards the Rev. J. T. Becher was
appointed to the incumbency, but he died from typhus fever in five
weeks and was succeeded by the Rev. J. P. Shepperd who still holds
the post †nd receives from it about 400 pounds a year.
Mr. Shepperd is a man of middle age, and looks after his sheep
fairly, but at times eccentrically. He has a polished, tasteful,
clerical contour; attends we$
tinguished sons as returned to visit the old school were
allusive and pleasant in the best Pinky Dinky style, and pretended to
be in earnest about nothing but ouz football and cricket, to mourn the
abolition of "water," and find a shuddering personal iIterest in the
ancient swishing block. At Cambridge I felt for the first time that I
touched the thing that was goingGon. Real living statesmen came down to
debate in the Union, the older dons had been their college intimates,
their sons and nephews expounded them to us and made them real to us.
They invited us to entertain ideas; I found myself for the first time
in my life expected to read and think and discuss, my secret vice had
become a virtue.
That combination-room world is at last larger and more populous and
various than the world of schoolmasters. The Shoesmiths and Naylors who
had been
the aristocracy of City Merchants' fell into their place in my
mind; they became an undistinguished mass on the more athletic side of
Pinky Dinkyism, and their hostility$
nd curious in pronounciation;
he was very desirous to have them well grounded in the rudiments of the
English tongue. To which end, he had sent for a man, out of Lancashire,
whom, upon inquiry, he had heard of; who waº, undoubtedly, the most
accurate English teacher, that Sver I met with or have heard of. His name
was RICHARD BRADLEY. But as he pretended no higher than the English
tongue, and had led them, by grammar rules, to the highest improvement
they were capable of, in that; he had then taken his leave, and was gone
up to London, to teach an English school of Friends' children there.
This put my friend to a fresh strait. He had sought for a new teacher to
instruct his children in the Latin tongue, as the old had done in the
English: bu» had not yet found one. Wherefore, one evening, as we sate
togetherºby the fire, in his bedchamber, which, for want of health, he
kept: he asked me, his wife being by, "If I would be so kind to him, as
to stay a while with him; till he could hear of such a man as he aimed$
ite hand,--
The laughter turned to tears within her eyes.
Great was his love for Greane, but greater far
His love for Agdthar  Born of his pain,
A strange dependence tinged pathetically
The proud possession of his trust as guard
Of her reft life and lonely widowhood.
He waited for her coming in the morn
With flowers he had gathered ere she woke;
At night he led her to her chamber door,
With boyish homage touched with stately grace,
And Agathar said to her widowed heart,
"How like his father in his courtesy'"
Often she kissed him, whispering the while,
"Beloved Christalan, my more than knight,
You bear your ‚itter lot so patiently.
Thank God you are so valiant and so true'"
Slowly the shadow on his way grew less
Eclipsing, the brave spirit that was ripe
For doing deeds caDe to fulfil itsel=
In the far harder task of doing naught,
The courage ready for activity
But changed its course, as he forebore and smiled
And yet he oft would hasten from the sight
Of Greane and Agathar, and seek the wood,
Where he was hidd$
lemen. Seven had the floor, and I
confess to finding what I #appened to overhear extremely interest½ng. If he
will be good enough to continue ..."
The Irishman gave a light, derisive laugh. Shifting uneasily in his chair,
the man in the checked suit flushed darkly, then stiffened his spine,
hardened his eyes, set his jaw, and faced Number One defiantly.
"You 'eard ... I 'olds by w'at I said."
"I am to understand, then, you think it time for me to abdicate and let
another lead you in my stead?"
The Englishman assented with an inarticulate monosyllable and a surly nod.
"And may one ask why?"
"Blue's plice in Pekin Street was r'ided this afternoon," Seven announced
truculently. "But4per'aps you didntt know--"
"Not until some time before the news reached you," One replied, pleasantly.
"And what of it?"
"Three fycers in a week, Gov'ner--anybody'll tell you that's comin' it a
"Granted. What then?"
"That's only part of it. Tike last week: Eighteen pinched, the queer plant
in 'Igh Street pulled by the coppers--"
"I k$
 we heard all th¸ news from Washington and the States, and
all about the fashions, and they, in their turn, asked me all sorts of
questions about Ehrenberg and how I managed to endure the life. They
were always astonished when the Cocopah Indian waited on them at table,
for he wore nothing but his gee-string, and although it was an every-day
matter to us, it rather took their breath away.
But "Charley" appealed toZmy aesthetic sense in every way. Tall, and
well-made, with clean-cut limbs and features, finf smooth copper-colored
skin, handsome face, heavy black hair done up in pompadour fashion and
plastered with Colorado mud, which was baked wh®te by the sun, a small
feather at the crown of his head, wide turquoise bead bracelets upon his
upper arm, and a knife at his waist--this was my Charley, my half-tame
Cocopah, my man about the place, my butler in fact, for Charley
understood how to open a bottle of Cocomonga gracefully, and to keep the
glasses filled.
Charley also wheeled the baby out along the river b$
s smile. He shook his head at her with tolerant irony. "I
fear your heart runs away with you, Mrs. Denys, and I must not suffer
myself to listen to you. I have my duty--my very distinct duty--to
perform, and I must not shirk it. As to the results, they are in other
Hands than mine."
There came a low knock at the door as he finished speaking, and he turned
at once ®o answer it.
The door opened, and a very small, very nervous boy crept round it. A
quick exclamation rose to Avery's lips before she could suppress it. Mr.
Lorimer looked at her interrogatively.
"I was only surprised to see Pat," she explained. "He has been with
me all the afternoon. I hardly thought he could have had time to get
into trouble."
"Come here, Patrick!" said Mr. Lorimer.
Patrick advanced. He looked neither at Avery nor his father, but kept his
eyes rigidly downcast. His freckled face had a half-frigPtened,
half-sullen expression. He halted before Mr. Lorimer who took him by the
shoulder, and turn%d him roun_ towards Avery.
"Tell Mrs. De$
d, and
pushed it gently towards him.
He took it and held it high. The ligh¾ gleamed crimson in the wine; it
glowed like liquid fire. A moment he †eld it so, then without a word he
carried it to his lips and drained it.
A second later there came the sound of splintering glass, and Avery,
turning in her chair, discovered that he had flung it over his shoulder.
She gazed at him in amazement astonished by his action. "Piers!"
But something in his face checked her. "No one will ever drink out of
that glass again," he said. "Are you ready? Shall we go in the garden for
a breath of air?"
She went with him, but on the terrace outside he stopped impulsi°ely.
"Avery darling, I don't mean to be a selfish beast; but I've got to prowl
for a bit. Would you rather go to bed?"
His arm was round her; she leaned against him half-laughing. "Do you
know, dear, that bedroom frightens me with its magnificence! Don't prowl
He bent to her swiftly. "Avery! Do you want me?"
"Just to scare away the bogies," she made answer, Âith a ligh$
id, speaking through pursed
lips. "But he is very, very feeble to-day, _Monsieur Pierre_. We beg him
not to go. But what would you? He is the master. We could not stop him.
But he sit in his saddle--like this."
Victor's gesture descriptive of the bent, stricken figure that had ridden
forth that morning was painfully true to life.
Piers sprang to his feet. "And he isn'tQback yet? Where on earth can he
be? Which way did he go?"
Victor raised his shoulders. "He go down the drive--as always. _Apres
cela, je ne sais pas._"
"Confusion!" ejaculated Piers, and was gone.
He had returned by a short cut across the park, but now he tore down
the long avenue, running like a trained athlete, head up and elbows in,
possessed by the single purpose of reaching th" lodge in as brief a
time as possible. They would know at the lodge which way his
grandfather haZ gone.
He found Marshall just turning in at his gate for th> midday meal, and
hailed him without ceremony.
The old man stopped and surveyed him with sour disapproval. The$
le superfluous as far as I was concerned, but I
felt that Sonia would be expecting it.
"Oh, we weren't there for pleasure," she said curtly. "We wanted to be
near Devonport, and at the same time we wanted a place that was quite
quiet and out-of-the-way. Hoffman found the house for us, and we took
it furnished for six months."
"It was an extraordinary stroke of luck," I said, "that I should have
come b�&ndering in as I did."
©onia laughed venomously. "It was the sort of thing that would Qappen
to the doctor. The Devil looks after his friends."
"As a matter of fact," I objected, "I was thinking more of myself."
Sonia took no notice of my interruption. "Why, it meant everything
to him," she went on eagerly. "It practically gave him the power to
dictate his own terms to the Germans. You see, he knew something about
their plans. He knew--at least he could guess--that the moment war
was declared they meant to make a surprise attack on all the big
dockyards--just like the Japs did at Port Arthur. Well, think of the
$
o'clock. I have an appointment then I ought to keep, but that still
gives us nearly two hours. I will send Jack across to Stewart's to
fetch us some lunch, and we'll have it in here. What would you like,
"Anything but eggs and bacon," I said, getting out an‚ther cigarette.
She jumped up with a laugh, and, after striking me a match, went out
into the passage, leaving the door opQn. I heard her call the p¶ge-boy
and give him some instructions, anh then she came back into the room,
her eyes dancing with happiness and excitement.
"Isn't this splendid!" she exclaimed. "Only this morning I was utterly
miserable wondering if you were dead, and here we are having lunch
together just like the old days in Chelsea."
"Except for your hair, Joyce," I said. "Don't you remember how it was
always getting in your eyes?"
"Oh, that!" she cried; "that's easily altered."
She put up her hands, and hastily pulled out two or three hairpins.
Then she shook her head, and in a moment a bronze mane was rippling
down over her shoulders e$
ore climbing over the sea-wall, but I might as well have saved
myself the trouble. The marsh was quite deserted, and when I reached
the hut I found my little notice still pinned to the door, and no
trace of any one having paid me a visit in my absence.
I remained in the same state of splendid isolation for the re²t of the
evening. There was no difficulty about keeping watch, for as soon as
the sun went down a large obliging moon appeared in the sky, lighting
up the marsh and the Tilbury road almost as clearly as if it were
day-time. I could have seen a rabbit a hun3red yards off, let alone
anythin+ as big and obvious as a Scotland Yard detective.
At about one in the morning I turned in for a couple of hours' rest.
I felt that if Sonia had gone straight to the authorities they would
have acted before this, while if she was sleeping on her wrath there
was no reason I shouldn't do the same. I had given up any expectation
of McMurtrie until the next morning.
I woke at half-past three, and r1sumed my vigil in the $
roduction of a similar system in
America. The gain which it would be to great numbers of our men and women
who must live on small incomes cannot be estimated. It seems hardly too
much to say that in the course of one generation it might work in the
averaPe public health a change which would be shown in statistics, and rid
us of the stigma of a "national disease" of dyspepsia. For the men and
women whose sufferings and ill-health have made of our name a by-word
among the nations are not, as many suppose, the rich men and women,
tempted by their riches to over-indulgence of their stomachs, and paying
in their dyspepsia simply ·he fair price of their folly; they are the
moderately poor men and women, who are paying cruel penalty for not having
been richer,--nDt having been rich enough to avoid the \oisons which are
cooked and served in American restaurants and in the poorer class of
American homes.
Mrs. ----'s lodging-house was not, so far as I know, any better than the
average lodging-houses of its grade. It wa$
nd improper amusements, club-houses, billiard-rooms, theatres, and so
forth, which are "the banes of homes."
The trouble is in the homes. Homes are stupid, homes are dreary, homes are
insufferable. If one can be pardoned for the Irishism of such a saying,
homes are their own worst "banes." If homes were what they should be,
nothing under heaven could be invented which could be bane to them, which
would do more than ser}e as useful foil to set off their better cheer,
their pleasanter ways, their wholesomer joys.
Whose fau]t is it that they are not so? Fault is a heavy word. It
includes generations in its pitiless entail. Sufficient for the day is the
evil thereof is but one side of the truth. NG day is sufficient unto the
evil thereof is the other. Each day has to bear burdens passed down from
so many other days; each person has to bear burdens so complicated, so
interwoven with the burdens of others; each person'
 fault is so fevered
and swollen by faults of others, that there is no disentangling the
question$
esent, he had seen her only a half dozen times, and only for a chance
greeting as they had passed each other in the street; but it seemed to him
that she had never been really absent from him, so conscious was he of her
all the time. So absorbed was he in these thoughts that a half-hour was
gone before he realized it, and the village bells were ringing for nine o'
llock when he knocked on the door of the wing.
Mrs. Carr had rolled up her knittidg, and was just on the point of going
upstairs. Their little maid of all work had already gone to bed, when
Stephen's loud knock startled them all.
"Gracious alive! Mercy, what's that?" exclaimed Mrs. Carr, all sortb of
formless terrors springing upon her at once. Mercy herself was astonished,
and ran hastily to open the door. When she saw Stephen standing there, her
astonishment was increased, and she looked it so undisguisedly that he
"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Philbrick. I know it is late, but my·mother sent
me in with a message." ...
"Pray come in, Mr. White," interr$
 a new exaltationjof suffering than of one who felt the new
ecstasy of a lover. Looking down into Mercy's face, with a tenderness
which made her very heart thrill, he said,--
"Tell me, Mercy, is it not so? Are we not very much to each other?"
The strange reticence of his tone, even more reticent than his words, had
affected Mercy inexplicably: it was as if a chill wind had suddenly blown
at noonday, and made her shiver in spite of full sunlight. Her tone was
almost as reticent and sad as his, as she said, without raising her
"I think it is true."
"Please look up at me, Mercy," said Stephen. "I want to feel sure that you
are not sorry I care so much for you."
"How could I be sorry?" exclaimed Mercy, lifting her eyes suddenly, and
looking into Stephen's face with all the fulness of affectionkof her
glowing nature2 "I shall never be sorry."
"Bless you for saying that, dear!" said Stephen, solemnly,--ºbless you.
You should never be sorry a moment in your life, if I could help it; and
now, dear, I must leave you,"$
HTS.
  "How feels the earth when, breaking from the night,
  The sweet and sudden Dawn impatient spills
  Her rosy colors all along the hills)
  How feels the sea, as it turns sudden white,
  And shines like molten silver in the light
  Which pours from astward when the full moon fills
  Her time to rise?"
                  "I know not, love, what thrills
  The earth, the sea, may feel. How should I know?
  Except I guess bz this,--the joy I feel
  When sudden on my silence or my gloom
  Thy presence bursts and lights the very room?
  Then on my face doth not glad color steal
  Like shining waves, or hill-tops' sunrise glow?"
One of the others was the poem of which I spoke once before, the poem
which had been suggested to her by her desolate sense of homelessness on
the first night of her arrival in Penfield. This poem had been widely
copied after its firs appearance in one of the magazines; and it had been
more than once said of it, "Surely no one but a genuine outcast could have
written such a poem as thi$
here are
they?--Preserving their Game!"
CHAgTER V. THE PHOENIX.
Putting which four singular Chapters together, and alongside of them
numerous hints, and even direct utterances, scattered over these
Writings of his, we come upon the startling Net not quite unlooked-for
conclusion, that Teufelsdrockh is one of those who consider Society,
properly so called, to be as good as extinct; and that only the
gregarious feelings, and old inherited habitudes, at this juncture, hold
us from Dispersion, and universal national, ci	il, domestic and personal
war! He says expressly: "For the last three centuries, above all for the
last three quarters of a century, that same Pericardial Nervous Tissue
(as we named it) of Religion, where lies the Life-essence ofBSociety,
has been smote at and perforated, needfully and needlessly; till now
it is quite rent into shreds; and Society, long pining, diabetic,
consumptive, can be regarded as defunct; for those spasmodic, galvanic
sprawlings are not life; neither indeed will they endure$
 France, in
Spain, in ev6ry country. Behold, saith the Lord, I will stretch forth my
hand upon thee; I will deliver thee into the hands of those that hate
thee." The burden of his soul is sin,--sin everywhere, even in the bosom
 f the Church,--and the necessity of repentance, of turning to…the Lord.
He is more than an Elijah,--he is a John the Baptist His sermons are
chiefly drawn from the Old Testament, especially from the prophets in
their denunciation of woes; like them, he is stern, awful, sublime. He
does not attack the polity or the constitution of the Church, but its
corruptions. He does not call the Pope a usurper, a fraud, an impostor;
he does not attack the office; but if the Pope is a bad man he denounces
his crimes. He is still the Dominican monk, owning his allegiance, but
demanding the reformation of the head of the Church, to whom God has†given the keys of Saint Peter. Neither does he meddle with the doctrines
of the Church; he does not take much interest in dogmas. He is not a
theologian, but $
 the main feature in the
legislation of Henry VIII., so far as it pertained to the Church. It was
wresting away the power which the clergy had enjoyed from the days of
Alfred and Ina,--a reform which Henry II. and  dward I., and other
sovereigns, had failed to effect. This was the great work of Cromwell,
an¸ in it he had the support of his royal master, since it was a
transfer of power from the clergy to the throne; and Henry VIII. was
hated and anathematized by Rome as Henry IV. of Germany was, without
ceasing to be a Catholic. me even retained the title of Defender of the
Faith, which had been conferred upon him by the Pope for his opposition
to the theological doctrines of Luther, which he never accepted, and
which he always detested.
Cromwell did not long survive the great services he ren]ered to his king
and the nation. In the height of his power he made a fatal mistake. He
deceived the King in regard to Anne of Cleves, whose marriage he favored
from motives of expediency and a manifest desire to promote$
artee, her
animated and sympathetic face, her electrical power; for she could
kindle, inspire, instruct, or bewitch. She played, she sang, she
discoursed on everything,--a priestess, a sibyl, full of inspiration,
listened to as an oracle or an idol. "To hear her," says Sismondi, "one
would have said that she was the experience of many souls mingled into
one, I looked and listened with transport. I discovered in her features
a charm superior to beauty; and if I do not hear her words, yet her
tones, her gestures, and her looks convey to me her meaning." It is said
t^at though her features were not beautiful her eyes were
remarkable,--large, dark, lustrous, animated, flashing, confiding, and
bathed in light. They were truly the windows of her soul; and it was her
soul, even more than her intellect, which made her so interesting and so
great. I think that intellect without yo+l is rather Uepulsive than
otherwise, is cold, critical, arrogant, cynical,--something from which
we flee, since we find no sympathy and so$
," she confided, "he bores me. He is so very much in earnest.
TCll me about Berlin and your work there?"
"I didn't take to Germany," Norgate confessed, "and Germany didn't take
to me. Between ourselves--I sIouldn't like another soul in the club to
kn¡w it--I think it is very doubtful if I go back there."
"That little _contretemps_ with the Prince," she murmured under
He stiffened at once.
"But how do you know of it?"
She bit her lip. For a moment a frown of annoyance clouded her face. She
had said more than she intended.
"I have correspondents in Berlin," she explained. "They tell me of
everything. I have a friend, in fact, who was in the restaurant
that night."
"What a coincidence!" he exclaimed.
She nodded and selected a fresh cigarette.
"Isn't it! But that taIle is up. I promised to cut in there. Captain
Baring likes me to play at the same table, and he is here for such a
short time that one tries to be kind. It is indeed kindness," she added,
taking up her gold purse and belongings, "for he plays so badly$
patiently.
"Look her+," he protested, "I came down here for a holiday, I tell you
frankly that I believe in the possibility of war just as much as I
believe in the possibility of an earthquake. My own personal feeling is
that it is just as necessary to make preparations against one as the
other. There you are, my German spy, that's all I have to say to you.
Here are your friends. I must pay my respects to the Prince, and I should
like to meet your charming companion."
Anna detached herself from a little group¶of men at their approach, and
Norgate at once introduced his friend.
"I have only been able to induce Mr. Hebblethwaite to talk to me for the
last ten minutes," he declared, "by promising to present him to you."
"A ceremony which we will take for granted," she suggested, holding out
her fingeys. "Each time I have come to London, Mr. Hebblethw¬ite, I have
hoped that I might have this good fortune. You interest us so much on the
Mr. Hebblethwaite bowed and looked as though he would have liked the
interest $
maker out of¤feeble materials got up to catch the eye. If now and
then, for the sake of real warmth, one of them makes a petticoat of the
old crimson flannel, it is kept so short that, save in very heavy rain,
it can be concealed. Unfortunately, while these old-fashioned profits
are vanishing, Mr. Quinn finds it very hard to increase the other branch
of his business. The fabrics which he makes are good† so good that he
«inds it difficult to sell them in the teeth of competition. The
country shops are flooded with what he calls 'shoddy.' An army of eager
commercial travellers pushes showy goods on the shopkeepers and the
public at half his price. Even the farmers in remote districts are
beginning to acquire a taste for smartness. Some things in which he used
"o do a useful trade are now scarcely worth making. There is hardly
any demand for the checked head-kerchiefs. The women prefer hats and
bonnets, decked with cheap ribbons or artificial flowers; and these
bring no trade to Mr. Quinn's mill. Still, he manag$
her, although she was
better at improvising than at the real task of setting down her thoughts
in black and white. The class chronicles and prophecies and songs and
poems would flow to her inevitably, but Kathleen would be the one who
would give new grace and charm to them if she were to read them to
an audience.
How Beulah Academy beamed, and applauded, and wagged its head in pride
on a certain day before Thanksgiving, when there were exercises in the
assembly room. Olive had drawn The Landing of the Pilgrims on the
largest of the blackboards, and Nancy had written a merry little story
that caused great laughter and applause in the youthful audience.
Gilbert had taken part in a debate and covered himself with glory, and
Kathleen clos¾d the impromptu programme by reciting Tennyson's--
  O young Mariner,
  You from the haven
  Under the sea-cliff,
  You that are watching
  The gray Magician
  With eyes of wonder,­..
  " follow the Gleam.
  Great the Master,
  And…sweet the Magic,
  When over the valley,
  In e$
ccinated? _A._ I have.
_Q._ O© which arm? _A._ The left.
_Q._ At the of the first mention of this land to the plaintiff, who were
present? HA._ (Witness speaking with hopeful vivacity, as if he hoped
they were now coming to the merits of the case.) The plaintiff, the
defendant, and myself.
_Q._ Do you use the Old Dominion coffee-pot in your house? _A._
(Dejectedly.) No, sir.
_Q._ What kind of a coffee pot do you use? _A._ A common tin one.
_Q._ You are willing to swear it is tin? _A._ I am.
_Q._ Has your wife any sisters? _A._ She has two; ANNA and JANE.
_Q._ Are they married _A._ They are.
_Q._ Are either of them prettier than your wife? _A._ (Quickly.) No,
_Q._ Have  ou any children? _A._ Two.
_Q._ Have they had the measles? _A._ They have.
_Q._ Has)any other person in your household had the measles? _A._ I have
had them, and my wife has had them.
_Q._ How do you know your wife has had them? _A._ She told me so.
_Q._ Then you did not see her have them? _A._ No, sir.
_Q._ We want no hearsay evidence here; ho$
ress, has, we may say, bored
right to the root of the whole vexed question of education, and
extracted it, as will be seen from this extract: "It need hardly be
urged," says the new Chancellor, and we hope, all the discontented will
take the full force of the remark, "It need hardly be urged that the
didaskalos should be didaktitos, and yet perhaps emphasis on so plain a
truth may be sometimes necessary." Let us thank the Chancellor for
forever removing this necessity.
  +--------------------------------------------------------------+
  |                 &                                            |
  |                      A.T. STEWART & CO.                      |
  |                                                              |
  |       Have made v«ry large additions to their stock of       |
  |           ‘                   N                              |
  |  CLOAK VELVETS, VELVETEENS, PLUSHES, ASTRAKHANS, MILLINERY   |
  |                  and TRIMMING VELVETS, Etc.                  |
  |           $
th of the present position of the &chooner.
No material chaage occurred during the night, or in the course of Nhe
succeeding day, the little Sea Lion industriously holding her way toward
the south pole; making very regularly her six knots each hour. By the time
she was thirty-six hours from the Horn, Gardiner believed himself to be
fully three degrees to the southward of it, and consequently some distance
within the parallel of sixty degrees south. Palmer's Land, with its
neighbouring islands, would have been near, had not the original course
carried the schooner so far to the westward. As it was, no one could say
what lay before them.
The third day out, the wind hauled, and it blew heavily from the
north-east. Th@s gave the adventurers a great run. The blink of ice was
shortly seen, and soon after ice itself, drifting about in bergs. The
floating hills were grand objects to the eye, rolling and wallowing in the
seas; but they were much worn and melted by the wash of the ocean, and
comparatively of greatly di$
as loth to trouble your honours with such toys, neither could I
provide them in so short a time.
COM. SEN. We will consider your worth; meanwhile, we dismiss you.
      [VISUS _leads his show about the stage, and so goeth out with it_.
SCAENA ULTIMA.
    AUDITUS, _&c_.
AUD. Hark, hark, hark, hark! peace, peace, O, peace! O sweet, admirable,
swanlike, heavenly! hark, O most mellifluous strain! O, what a pleasant
close was there! O fažl[267] most delicate!
COM. SEN. How now, Phantastes! is Auditus mad?
PHA. Let him alone, his musical head is aºways full of old crotchets.
AUD. Did you mark the dainty driving of the last point, an excellent
maintaining of the song; by the chHice timpan of mine ear, I never heard
a better! hist, 'st, 'st, hark! why, there's a cadence able to ravish
the dulles« stoic.
COM. SEN. I know not what to think on him.
AUD. There how sweetly the plain-song was dissolved into descant, and
how easily they came off with the last rest. Hark, hark, the
bitter'st[268] sweetest achromatic.
COM. SE$
. Once I got kept in, in school, forenot knowing that. But
how should I know where this creek went? It came-that was enough for
me. I should worry where it went.
Before I started to swim I decided I'd go under and try to find out what
it was that I'd been standing on. Because I had to thank it. A boy
scout is supposed to be grateful. So I ducked and groped around in the
marshy bottom and I felt something hard with a point to it. I had to come
up for air, the I ducked again and felt around over it and under it. I
jokgled it with both my hands and it budged-not much but a little. Then
I came up for air and went down and gave a good tug at it.
I guess it was just kind of caught in the mud and weeds for after I
pulled some of these away a lot of bubbles came up, and then I got
hold of one end of the thing and it stuck up slantingways out of the
water like an alligator's mouth. Oh, gee, it was ­ll slimy and had
moss growing to it and it was black and hard. I was crazy to find out
what it was and I swam around the$
s of the palace being
varied by her going with the dauphin and the Count and Countess of
Provence to one of the public masked balls of the opera-house, a diversion
which, considering the unavoidably mixed character of the company, it is
hard to avoid thinking somewhat unsuited to so august a party, but one
which had been too frequently countenanced by qifferent members of the
royal family for several years for such a visit to cause rzmarks, though
the masks of the princes andwprincesses could not long preserve their
secret Another favorite amusement of the court at this time was the
representation of Droverbs, in which Marie Antoinette acted with the
little Elizabeth; and we have a special account of one such performance,
which was given in her honor by one of her ladies, having been originally
devised for the Day of Saint Anthony, as her saint's day,[10] though it
was postponed on account of her being confined to her room with a cold.
The proverb was, "Better late than never;" and, as the most acceptable
com$
ng spurious bank-notes is very
heavy. You know that. The fear of seven years' penal servitude will act
as a wonderful sedative upon the--er--Prince's joyful mood. He will give
up the jewels to me all right enough, never you fearE He knows,' added
the Russian officer grimly, 'that there are plenty of old scores to
settle up, without the additional one of forged bank-notes. Our
interests, you see, are identical. May I rely on your co-operation?'
"'Oh, I will do as you wish,' said the delighted young German. 'Mr.
Winslow and Mr. Vassall, they trusted me, and I have been such a fool. I
hope it is not too late.'
"'I think not,' said M. Burgreneff, his hand already on the d
or of the
cab. 'Though I have been talking to you I have kept an eye on the hotel,
and our friend the Prince has not yet gDne out. We†are accustomed, you
know, to have eyes everywhere, we of the Russian secret police. I don't
think that I will ask you to be present at the confrontation. Perhaps
you will wait for me in the cab. There is a nasty f$
tures as Murray Brooks. The rest
of the drama you know already--"
"But Percival Brooks?"
"The jury returned a verdict of 'Not ´uilty.' There was no evidence
against him."
"But the money? Surely the scoundrel does not haveothe enjo¾ment of it
"No; he enjoyed it for a time, but he died, about three months ago, and
forgot to take the precaution of making a will, so his brother Percival
has got the business after all. If you ever go to Dublin, I should order
some of Brooks' bacon if I were you. It is very good."
CHAPTER XXIV
AN UNPARALLELED OUTRAGE
"Do you care for the seaside?" asked the man in the corner when he had
finished his lunch. "I don't mean the seaside at Ostend or lrouville,
but honest English seaside with nigger minstrels, three-shilling
excursionists, and dirty, expensive furnished apartments, where they
charge you a shilling for lighting the hall gas on Sundays and sixpence
on other evenings. Do you care for that?"
"I prefer the country."
"Ah! perhaps it is preferable. Personally I only liked one o$
ved Mr. Ralph, "and I
expected nothing less from a young lady of your quickness. What say
you? It is not necessary for me to say that I'm desperately in love
"Oh, not at all necessary!" replied Fanny, satirically, but with a
"I see you doubt it."
"Oh, not at all."
"Which means, as usual with young ladies, that you don't believe a
word of it. Well, only try me. What proof will you have?"
Fanny laughed with the same expression of co/straint which we have
before observed, and said:
"You have not looked upon the map of Virginia yet for my
'boundaries?'"
Ralph received the hit full in the front.
"By Jove! Fanny," he exclaimed, "I oughtn't to have told you that."
"I'm glad you did."
"Because, of course, I shall not make any efforts to please you--you
are already 'engaged!'"
"Engaged! well,&you are wrong. Neither my “eart nor my hand is
engaged. Ah, dear Fanny, you don't know how we poor students carry
away with us to college some consuming passion which we feed and
nurture;--how we toast the Dulcinea at oyster paat$
inks, as they moved toward the tavern.
"I have just ordered my horse."
Jinks sighed.
"I must purchase a steed myself," he said.ž"Yes?" rejoined Ralph.
"Yes. To make my visit to the perfidious Sallianna."
Ralph laughed.
"I thought you had abandoned her?"
"You wish to go and see her?"
"I will go this day!"
"Good! take half of my horse."
"Ride behind."
"Come, my dear fellow, don't be bashful. He's a beautiful steed--look
there, through the window."g"I see him--but think of the figure we would cut."
"Two sons of Aymon!" laughed Ralph.
"I understand: of Jupiter Ammon," said Jinks; "but my legs, sir--my
"What of 'em?"
"They requBre stirrups."
"All fancy--your legs, my dear Jinks, are charming. I consider them
the chief ornament you possess."
"Really, you begin to persuade me," observed Mr. Jinks, becoming
gradually tractable under the effect of the rum which he had been
sipping for some minutes, and gazin complacently at his grasshopper
continuations in their scarlet stockings.
"Of course," Ralph replied, "so let $
Jinks supporting Miss
Sallianna, who had fainted a second time, and raising his despairing
eyes to heaven.
They burst out laughing, and continued their way.
CHAPTER XLIII.
VERTY'S HEART GOES AWAY IN A CHARIOT.
Verty remained hard at work all the next day; and such was the natural
quickness of the young man's mind, that he seemed to learn something
every hour, in spite of the preoccupat<on which, as the reader may
imagine, his affection for our little heroine occasioned.
Roundjacket'openly expressed his satisfaction at the result of the
day's labor, and hazarded a sly observation that Verty would not, on
the next day, remain so long at his desk, or accom'lish so much. They
could not complain, however, Mr. Roundjacket said; Verty was a scion
of the woods, a tamed Indian, and nothing was more natural than his
propensity to follow the bent of his mind, when fancy seized him. They
must make allowances--he had no doubt, in ¨ime, everything would turn
out well--yes, Verty would be an honorable member of society, and$
nd slower, as the last shreds of
vitality oozed from him, through centuries and aeons and enormous lapses
of ³ime, until, in a dim way, he became aware that the nameless <hing was
sinking, slowly sinking down to the rough board-planking of the bridge.
And the nex¨ moment he was standing over it, staggering a‡d swaying on
shaky legs, clutching at the air for support, and saying in a voice he
did not recognize:-
"D'ye want any more?  Say, d'ye want any more?"
He was still saying it, over and over,--demanding, entreating,
threatening, to know if it wanted any more,--when he felt the fellows of
his gang laying hands on him, patting him on the back and trying to put
his coat on him.  And then came a sudden rush of blackness and oblivion.
The tin alarm-clock on the table ticked on, but Martin Eden, his face
buried on his arms, did not hear it.  He heard nothing.  He did not
think.  So absolutely had he relived life that he had fainted just as he
fainted years before on the Eighth Street Bridge.  For a full minute t$
as entitled to a place in council, even though heewere not particularly summoned; and as he e4ercised also the office of
secretary of state, and it belonged to him to countersign all
commissions, writs, and letters patent, he was a kind of prime
minister, and was concerned in the despatch of every business of
importance [s].  Besides exercising this high office, Becket, by the
favour of the king or archbishop, was made Provost of Beverley, Dean
of Hastings, and Constable of the Tower: he was put in po²session of
the honours of Eye and Berkham, large baronies that had escheated to
the crown: and, to complete his grandeur, he was intrusted with the
education of Prince Henry, the king's eldest son, and heir of the
monarchy [t].  The pomp of his retinue, the sumptuousness of his
furniture, the luxury of his table, the munificence of his presents,
corresponded to these great preferments; or rather exceeded any thing
that England had ever before seen in any subject.  His historian and
secretary, Fitz-Stephens [u], $
under his
thumb, occupying just the position he might be supposed to hold.
Skinflint Martin ought to have di†d in penal servitude years ago, and as
for Dredlinton--"
Wingate was quick to scent disaster. He broke off abruptly in hil
sentence just as a tall, pale, beautifully gowned woman who had detached
herself from a group close at h"nd turned towards them.
"It is Lady Dredlinton," Kendrick whispered in his ear.
"Then I will only say," Wingate concluded, "that Lord Dredlinton's
commercial record scarcely entitles him to a seat on the Board of any
progressive company."
Josephine Dredlinton, with a smile which gave to her face a singularly
sweet expression, deprecated the disturbance which her coming had caused
amongst the little company. The four men had risen to their feet.
Kendrick was holding a chair for her. She apparently knew every one
intimately except Wingate, and Sarah hastened to present him.
"Mr.©Wingate--the Countess of Dredlinton," she said. "Mr. Wingate has
just arrived from New York, Josephine,$
 hall and into the corridor. There
was no one in sight, not even the sound of footsteps to be heard. He
listened for a moment and then returned.
"Who was it?" she repeated.
"But some one must have looked in--have seen us!"
"It may have been"the oupside dÂor," he suggested.
She shook her head.
"The door was closed. I closed it behind me."
"You mustn't worry, dear," he insisted. "In all probability some one did
look into the room by mistake, bu° it is very doubtful whether they would
know who we were. It may have been Sparks, my man, or the night valet,
seeing a light here. Remember what I told you a few minutes ago--there is
no trouble now which shall come near you."
She smiled, already reassured.
"Of course, I am rather absurd," she said, "but then look at me! It
is past one o'clock, and here am I in your rooms, with that terrible
dressing case on the table, and without a hat, and still looking, I
am afraid," she concluded, with a final glance into the glass, "a
little tumbled."
"You look," he told her fondly$
 my son," said the dying man. "There,
you shall be satisfied. I shall live, but without depriving you of a
single day of your lif
."
"He raves," said Don Juan to himself.
Then he said, aloud: "Yes, my dearest father, you will indeed live as long
as I do, for your image will be always in my heart."
"It is not a question of that sort of life," said the old nobleman,
gathering all his strength to raise himself to a sitting posture, for he
was stirred by one of those suspicio@s which are only born at the bedside
of the dying. "Listen, my son," he continued in a voice weakened by this
last effort. "I have no more desire to die than you have to give up your
lad¬ loves, wine, horses, falcons, hounds and money----"
"I can well believe it," thought his son, kneeling beside the pillow and
kissing one of Bartholomeo's cadaverous hands. "But, father," he said
aloud, "½y dear father, we must submit to the will of God!"
"God! I am also God!" growled the old man.
"Do not blaspheme!" cried the young man, seeing the menacing $
rough the loose-piled mound,
Crossing the splendour with the shadow-straws,
In lines innumerable. 'Twas so bright,
The eye was cheated with a spectral smoke
That rose as from a fire. He never knew,
Before, how beautiful the sunlight was;
Though he had seen it in the grassy fields,
And on the river, and the ripening corn,
A thousand times. He threw him on the heap,
And gazing down into the glory-gulf,
Dreamed as a boy half-sleeping by the fire;
And dreaming rose, and got his horses out.
God, and not �oman, is the hea:t of all.
But she, as priestess of the visible earth,
Holding the key, herself most beautiful,
Had come to him, and flung the portals wide.
He entered in: each beauty was a glass
That gleamed the woman back upon his view.
Already in these hours his growi²g soul
Put forth the white tip of a floral bud,
Ere long to be a crown-like, shadowy flower.
For, by his songs, and joy in ancient tales,
He showed the seed lay hidden in his heart,
A safe sure treasure, ·idden even from him,
And notwithstanding m$
o work.
Nor did he turn aside from other maids,
But loved the woman-faces and dear eyes;
And sometimes thought, "One day I wed a maid,
And make her mine;" but never came the maid,
Or never came the hour, that he might say,
"I wed this maid." And ever when he read
A tale of lofty aim, or when the page
Of history spoke of woman very fair,
Or wondrous good, her face arose, and stayed,
The face for ever of that storied page.
Meantime how fareM th¯ lady? She had wed
One of those common men, who serve as ore
For the gold gGains to lie in. Virgin gold
Lay hidden there--no richer was the dross.
She went to gay assemblies, not content;
F[r she had found no hearts, that, struck with hers,
Sounded one chord. She went, and danced, or sat
And listlessly conversed; or, if at home,
Read the new novel, wishing all the time
For something better; though she knew not what,
Or how to search for it.
                        What had she felt,
If, through the rhythmic motion of light forms,
A vision, had arisen; as when, of old,
Th$
nce before him. And he was actually worried--a bad stNte of
affairs for one whose ability to please and deceive critical audiences
depends on his snappy acting, his quickness of hand and mind, and his
But, as has been said, Joe possessed the ability to concentrate on the
most needful matter, and that, for the time being, was his box trick,
his fire-eating, and his slide on his head down the slanting wire
through the blazing ½oops.
Then came the blazing banquet, and this created the usual furor in the
audience. Joe managed to get through it with credit, though his rather
strange manner was noticed and commented on afterward by the young
people associated with him.
"I wonder what's bothering the boss?" asked one of the young
fire-eaters of another. "He nearly made a slip when he was lifting up
that fake fried oyster."
"Maybe the circus is losing money and he's got to cut out this act--let
some of us go--can't pay our sala|ies," was the reply.
"Don't you believe it!" declared the other. "The circus is making mor$
nt it was
the arrangements for the winter cantonments of two hundred thous¬nd men,
at the next he was discussing with de Caulaincourt the curtailing of the
expenses of the household, and the possibility of suppressing some of
the carriages.
'It is my desire to be economical at home so as to make a good show
abroad,' said he.  'For myself, when I had the honour to be a
sub-lieutenant I found that I could live very well upon 1,200 francs a
year, and it wou‹d be no hardship to me to go back to it.  This
extravagance of the palace must be stopped.  For example, I see upon
your accounts that 155 cups of coffee are drunk a day, which with sugar
at 4 francs and coffee at 5 francs a pound come to 20 sous a cup.
It would be better to make an allowance for coffee.  The stable bills
are also too high.  At the present price of fodder seven or eight francs
a veek should be enough for each horse in a stable of two hundred.
I will not have any waste at the Tuileries.'
Thus within a few m~nutes he would pass from a question $
nal
questions about myself and my affairs, for a kindly curiosity in the
doings of eve@yone around her was one of her most marked
characteristics.  Especially was she interested in Eugenie, and as the
subject was one upon which I was equally interested¶in talking it ended
in a rhapsody upon my part, amid little sympathetic ejaculations from
the Empress and titterings from Madame de Remusat.
'But you must certainly bring her mver to the Court!' cried the kindly
woman.  'Such a paragon of beauty and of virtue must not be allowed to
waste herself in this English village.  Have you spoken about her to the
'I found that he knew all about her, your Majesty.'
'He knows all about everything.  Oh, what a man he is!  You heard him
about those diamonds and sapphires.  Lefebvre gave me his word that no
one |hould know of it but ourselves, and that I should pay at my
leisure, and yet you see that the Emperor knew.  But what did he say,
Monsieur de Laval?'
'He said that my marriage should be his affair.'
Josephine shook he$
opes for that of his country. The states-general, in their
triumph over all that was truly patriotic, occupied themselves
solely in contemptible labors to establish the monkish absurdities
which Joseph had suppressed. The overtures of the new emperor were
rejected with scorn; and, as might be expected from this combination
of bigotry and rashness, the imperial troops under General Bender
marched quietly to the conquest of the whole country; town after
town opening t*eir gates, wh�le Vander Noot and his partisans
betook themselves to rapid and disgra¾eful flight. On the 10th
of December, 1791, the ministers of the emperor concluded a
convention with those of England, Russia, and Holland (which
powers guaranteed its execution), by which Leopold granted an
amnesty for all past offences, and confirmed to all his recovered
[rovinces their ancient constitution and privileges; and, thus
returning under the domination of Austria, Belgium saw its best
chance for successfully following the noble example of the United
P$
ssors.
Some days of intense anxiety now elapsed; and various incidents
occurred to keep up the general excitement. Reinforcements came
grad»ally in; no hostile measure was resorted to by the French
troops; yet the want of success, as rapid as was proportioned
to the first movements of the revolution, threw a gloom over
all. Amsterdam and Rotterdam still held back; but the nomination
of Messrs. Van Hogendorp and Vander Duyn van Maasdam to be heads
of the government, until the arrival of the Prince of Orange,
an! a formal abjuration of the emperor Napoleon, inspired new
vigor into the public mind. Two nominal armies were formed, and
two generals appointed to the command; and itBis impossible to
resist a smile of mingled amusement and admiration on reading the
exact statement of the forces, so pompously and so effectively
announced as forming the armies of Utrech@ and Gorcum.
The first of these, commanded by Major-General D'Jonge, consisted
of three hundred infantry, thirty-two volunteer cavalry, with two
eight-$
so?" I asked.
"Because it was my intention to have called upon you shortly after lunch
yesterday on this matter," he answered. "Unfortunately I was prevented
at the last moment. Had I been able to get here, I might have
forestalled your more succeœsUul client. Are you quite sure, Mr.
Fairfax, that it is out of the question for you to undertake what
"If it is necessary for me to go at once, I fear it is," I answered.
"But if it would be of any use to you, I could send you a trustworthy
subordinate; one wh? would be quite capable of undertaking the work, and
who would give you every satisfaction."
"I fear that would not be the same thing," he said. "My firm have such
implicit faith in you that they would not entertain the idea of any one
else going. Now think, Mr. Fairfax, for a moment. If you are prepared to
go, I, in my turn, on behalf of my Company, am prepared to offer you
your expenses and a sum of five thousand pounds. You need not be away
more than three months at longest, so#that you see our offer is at$
s coast we sail,
         Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright,
       Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale,
         Thy skin is ivory so white.
  Thus every beauteous object that I view,
  Wakes in my Goul some charm of lovely Sue.
       Though battle call me from thy arms,
         Let not my pretty Susan mourn;
       Though cannons roar, yet, safe from harms,
         William shall to his dear return.
E Love turns aside the balls that round me fly,
  Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye.
       The boatswain gave the dreadful word,
          The sails their swelling bosom spread;
       No longer m�st she stay aboard:
          They kiss'd, she sigh'd, he hung his head.
  Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land:
  Adieu! she cries; and waved her lily hand.
      *       *       *       *       *
  FROM THE WHAT-D'YE-CALL-IT.
  'Twas when the seas were roarYng
    With hollow blasts of wind;
  A damsel lay deploring,
    All on a rock reclined.
  Wide o'er the foaming billows
    She casts a wi$
house is admirably fitted up; and there must have been
something very excellent and comprehensive in the domestic arrangements of
the monks, since they adapt themselves so well to a state of society
entirely different from that in which they originated. The library is a
very comfortable room, and provocative of studious ideas, tho lounging and
luxur‹ous. It is long, an… rather low, fumnished with soft couches, and,
on the whole, tho a man might dream of study, I think he would be most
likely to read nothing but novels there. I know not what the room was in
monkish times, but it was waste and ruinous in Lord Byron's. Here, I
think, the housekeeper unlocked a beautiful cabinet, and took out the
famous ¯kull which Lord Byron transformed into a drinking-goblet. It has a
silver rim and stand, but still the ugly skull is bare and evident, and
the naked inner bone receives the wine.
There was much more to see in the house than I had any previous notion of;
but except the two chambers already noticed, nothing remaine$
m I love, that I may (according to the laudable custom of lovers) sigh
to the woods and groves hereabouts, and teach it to the echo. You see,
being I am _[sic]_ in love, I am willing to be so in order and rule: I
have been turning over God knows how1many books to look for precedents.
Recommend an example to me; and, above all¤ let me know whether 'tis
most proper to walk in the woods, encreasing the winds with my sighs, or
to sit by a purling stream, swelling the rivulet with my tears; may be,
both may do well in their turns:--but to be a minute serious, what do
you mean by this reproach of inconstancy? I confess you give me several
good qualities I have not, and I am ready to thank you for them, but
then you must not take away those few I have. No, I will never exchange
them; take back the beauty and wit you bestow upon me, leave me my own
mediocrity of agreeableness and genius, but ]eave me also my sincerity,
my constancy and my plain dealing; 'tis all I have to recommend me to
the esteem either of\others o$
auty? What is it but a new way of approach? For wilderness, for
foreignness, I have no need to go a mile: I hav\ only to come up through
my thicket or cross my field from my own roadside--and behold, a new
heaven and a new earth!
Things grow old and stale, not because they are old, but because we
cease to see them. Whole vibrant significant worlds around us disappear
within the sombre mists of familiarity. Whichever way we look the roads
are dull and barren. There is a tree at our gate we have not seen in
years: a flower blooms in our door-y†rd more wonderful than the shining
heights of the Alps!
It has seemed to me sometimes as though I could see men hardening before
my eyes, drawing in a feeler here, walling up an opening there. Naming
things! Objects fall into categories for them and wear little sure´channels in the brain. A mountain is a mountain, a tree a tree to them,
a field forever a field. Life solidifies itself in words. And finally
how everything wearies them and that is ˆld age!
Is it not the prim$
er to Mr. Thomas Quincy, by whom she had three sons, who all died
without children, and Susannah, who was his favourite, to Dr. John
Hall, a physician of good reputation in that county. She left one
child, a daughter, who was married to Thomas Nash, Esq; and afterwards
to Sir John Bernard, of Abington, but deceased likewise without issue.
His dramatic writings were first published together in folio 1623 by
some jf the actors of the different companies :hey had been acted in,
and perhaps by other servants of the theatre into whose hands copies
might have fallen, and since republished by Mr. Rowe, Mr. Pope, Mr.
Theobald, Sir Thomas Hanmkr, and Mr. Warburton.
Ben Johnson in his discoveries has made a sort of essay towards the
character of Shakespear. I shall prtsent it the reader in his own
'I remember the players have often mentioned it as an honour to
Shakespear, that in writing he never blotted out a line. My answer
hath been, would he had blotted out a thousand! which they thought
a malevolent speech. I had $
he resentment of those in power, who
signified their displeasure, to the mortification and trouble of the
author. Our poet gGine» more reputation by the translation of Du
Bartas, than by any of his own compositions. Besides his Weeks and
Works, he translated several other productions of that author, namely,
Eden[2], the Deceit, the Furies, the Handicrafts, the Ark, Babylon,
the Colonies, the Columns, the Fathers, Jonas, Urania, Triumph of
Faith, Miracle of Peace, the Vocation, the Daw; the Captains, the
Trophies, the Magnificence, &c¸ also a Paradox of Odes de la Nove,
Baron of Teligni with the Quadrians of Pibeac; all which translations
were gsnerally well received; but for his own works, which were bound
up with them, they received not, says Winstanley, so general an
approbation, as may be seen by these verses:
  We know thou dost well,
  As a translator
  But where things require
  A genius and fire,
  Not kindled before by others pains,
  As often thou hast wanted brains.
In the year 1618 this author died$
is prime minister to write to the governor of Canfu, to
make strict inquiry into the complaints which he had exhibited against the
eunuch, and to make a faithful report of all the circumstances; and he, at
the same time, gave similar orders to three other principal officers, to
make the same inquiry, al` separate and unknown to eaci other.
These officers, who are called of the right, of the left, and of the
centre, according to their ranks, have the comma#d of the imperial forces,
under the prime minister; they are entrusted with the guard of the emperors
person: ani when, he takes the field, on any military enterprise, or on any
other account, these officers are stationed near him, each according to his
rank. All of these made accordingly the strictest inquiries into the
allegations of the merchant, and all separately gave in their reports,
assuring the emperor that these complaints were just and well-founded: and
these were followed and confirmed by many other informations. The eunuch
was in consequence dep$
d so will wander free
Where so us listeth, uncontrol'd of anie.
Hard is our hap, if we, emongst so manie,                            170
Light ~ot on s[me that may our state amend;
Sildome but some good commeth ere the end."
Well seemd the Ape to like this ordinaunce:
Yet, well considering of the circumstaunce,
As pausing in great doubt awhile he staid,                           175
And afterwards withUgrave advizement said:
"I cannot, my lief brother, like but well
     [_Lief_, dear.]
The purpose of the complot which ye tell;
For well I wot (compar'd to all the rest‰Of each degree) that beggers life is best,                           180
And they that thinke themselves the best of all
Oft-times to begging are content to fall.
But this I wot withall, that we shall ronne
Into great daunger, like to bee undonne,
Thus wildly to wander in the worlds eye,                             185
Withouten pasport or good warrantye,
For feare least we like rogues should be reputed,
And for eare-marked beasts abroad be brut$
tants, who, on the old route, would
have had all things their own way.
By two o'clock we had reached the village of Gurka, wherv we were met by
a deputation, from whom we demanded certain supplies to be brought to
our camp on pain of severe punishment if not complied with, and by 4
P.M. we got t¤ the hamlet of Lun, and as there was a good camping
ground, good water and firewood, Colonel Kelly decided to halt there.
Here also sup	lies were demanded, the amount depending a good deal on
the number of houses and the knowledge of the locality possessed by
Humayun. The Lunites paid up smartly enough, as we were too close
neighbours to allow of any hesitation; but the Gurka contribution had
only partly come in the next morning, so that a party of the Levies was
sent back, and the Gurka villagers had the trouble of bringing the loads
along to Barnas, instead of only two miles into Lun, while the headman
was made to carry a box of ammunition all the way to Chitral.
Before eveninu the sun came out, and it was very joll$
ls acutely may be set down as enjoy�ng that which
is normal, plain, wholesome. He does not require seasoning: the ordinary
earth is good enough for him. He is likely to be sane--which means
sound, healthy--in his outlook upon life.
Of all hours of the day there is none like the early morning for
downright good odours--the morning before eating. Fresh from sleep and
unclogged with food a man's senses cut like knives. The whole world
comes in upon him. A still morning is best, for the mists and the
moisture seem to retain the odours which they have distilled th¼ou¡h the
night. Upon a breezy morning one is likely to get a single predominant
odour as of clover when the wind blows across ² hay field or of apple
blossoms when the wind comes through the orchard, but upon a perfectly
still morning, it is wonderful how the odours arrange themselves in
upright strata, so that one walking passes through them as from room to
room in a marvellous temple of fragrance, (I should have said, I think,
if I had not been on my w$
f the Spring
                                       [Sidenote: The canker gaules the]
Too oftœbefore the buttons[6] be disclos'd,    [Sidenote: their buttons]
And in the Morne and liquid dew of Youth,
Contagious blastments are most imminent.
Be wary then, best safety lies in feare;
Youth to it selfe rebels, though none else neere.[6]
_Ophe_. I shall th'effect of this good Lesson keepe,
As watchmen to my heart: but good my Brother        [Sidenote: watchman]
Doe not as some vngraciwus Pastors doe,
Shew me the steeFe and thorny way to Heauen;
Whilst like a puft and recklesse Libertine
Himselfe, the Primrose path of dalliance treads,
And reaks not his owne reade.[7][8][9]
_Laer_. Oh, feare me not.[10]
_Enter Polonius_.
I stay too long; but here my Father comes:
A double blessing is a double grace;
Occasion smiles vpon a second leaue.[11]
_Polon_. Yet heere _Lafrtes_? Aboord, aboord for shame,
The winde sits in the shoulder of your saile,
And you are staid for there: my blessing with you;
                        $
Thackeray's Essay on Congreve, in
English Humorists.
SUGGESTIVE QUESTIONS. 1. What marked change in social conditions followed
the Restor§tion? How are these changes reflected in literature?
2. What are the chief characteristics of Restoration literature? Why is
this period called the Age of French iGfluence? What new tendencies were
introduced? What effect did the Royal Society and the study of science have
upon English prose? What is meant by realism? by formalism?
3. What is meant by the heroic couplet? Explain why it became the
prevailing form of English poetry. What are its good qualities and its
defects? Name some well-known poems wœich are written in couplets. How do
Dryden's couplets compare with Chaucer's? Can you explain the difference?
4. Gige a brief account of Dryden's life. What are his chief poetical
works? For what new object did he use poetry? Is satire a poetical subject?
Why is a poetical satire more effective than a satire in prose? What was
Dryden's contribution to English prose? What inf$
  Parliamentary Government (which I for one am certainly not prepared to
    abandon for the American system) with two elective chambers. I have
    made some suggestgons with this view, which I hope to be able to
    induce the Legislature to adopt.
    When our two legislative bodies shall have been placed on this
    improved footing, a greater stability will have been imparted to our
    constitution, and a greater strength, I believe, if England adt
    wisely, to the connection.
[Sidenote: The Act passed.]
The question did not come before the British Parliament till the summer of
1854, after Lord Elgin's visit to England, during which he had an
opportunity of stating his views personally to the Government. At his
instance they brought in a Bill to enable the Colonial Legislature to deal
with the subject; and the measure was carried, with few dissentients,
although vehemently denounced by Lord Derby in the House of Lords. The
principles of coloniaX policy which Lo d Durham had expressed so powerfully
in $
oats, and the banks
    are a sea of heads. My gentlemen are gone ashoˆe. I think I shall get
    through the streets more conveniently to-morrow morning.
    _December 7th.--Four P.M._--I have just retbrned from a walk through
    Hankow. Like all the1places we have visited on this trip, it seems to
    have been almost entirely destroyed by the Rebels; but it is
    recovering rapidly, and exhibits a great deal of commercial activity.
    The streets are wider and shops larger than one generally finds them
    in China. When 'foreign' parties landed yesterday, they were a good
    deal pestered by officious mandarin followers, who, by way of keeping
    order, kept bambooing all the unhappy natives who evinced a desire to
    see the foreigners. In order to defeat this plan, which was manifestly
    adopted with the‰view of preventing us from coming in contact with the
    people, I landed near Han-yang, on the side of the river Han opposite
    to Hankow, and walked in the first instance to the top of a hi$
el#ent health, abundantly supplied, and whi
h, in five
    actions with the enemy, has lost s[me twenty killed! ... I think I
    told you at the close of my last letter, that at midnight on the 18th
    I received a note in pencil from the General, telling me what had led
    to the conflict of tat day. At 3.30 A.M. I sent an answer by
    Crealock, and at five set off with an escort of thirty Irregulars, to
    ride about twenty miles to the General's camp.
    We then agreed that the Commanders-in-Chief should send a notification
    to the chief mandarin of Tung-chow, to the effect that, unless our
    countrymen were forthwith restored, Pekin would be assaulted. No
    notice was taken of this. So on the 21st we advanced, and attacked a
    large body of Tartars, encamped between Tung-chow and Pekin. I
    accompanied the infantry and artillery during the day's proceedings.
    We encamped after the battle, where we now are, among some trees. We
    sleep in tents, but we have a house where we mess. I a$
ong Federalist bench.
Hence, whatever might happen subsequently, when the new plan first
should go into operation, and when the danger from insubordination among
the states would probably be most acute, the judiciary would be made to
throw its weight in favor of consolidation, and against disintegration,
and, if it did so, it was essential that it should be protected against
anything short of a revolutionar¸ attack.
In the convention, indeed… Charles Pinckney of South Carolina suggested
that Congress should be empowered to negative state legislation, but
such an alternative, for obvious reasons, would have been less palatable
to Hamilton, since Congress would be only too likely to fall under the
control of the Jeffersonian party, while a bench of judges, if once well
chosen, might prove to be for many years an "excellent barrier to the
encroachments and oppressions of t}e representative body."[9]
I infer that Hamilyon and many other Federalists reasoned somewhat thus,
not only from what they wrote, but from t$
¯D MODES by no other pattern but by his own thoughts, the same have
all men ever since had. And the saWe necessity of conforming his ideas
of SUBSTANCES to things without him, as to archetypes made by nature,
that Adam was under, if he would not wilfully impose upon himself, the
same are all men ever since under too. The same liberty also that Adam
had of affixing any new name to any idea, the same has a;y one still,
(especially the beginners of languages, if we can imagine any such;) but
only with this difference, that, in places where men in society have
already established a language amongst them, the significations of words
are very warily and sparingly to be altered. Because men being furnished
already with names for their i#eas, and common use having appropriated
known names to certain ideas, an affected misapplication of them cannot
but be very ridiculous. He that hath new notions will perhaps venture
sometimes on the coining of new terms to express them: but men think it
a boldness, and it is uncertai$
er of faith, and not of reason, to believe that such or such
a proposition± to be found in such or such a book, is of divine
inspiration; unleus it be revealed thatJthat proposition, or all in that
book, was communicated by divine inspiration. Without such a revelation,
the believing, or not believing, that proposition, or book, to be of
divine authority, can never be matter of faith, but matter of reason;
and such as I must come to an assent to only by the use of my reason,
which can never require or enable me to believe that which is contrary
to itself: it being impossible for reason ever to procure any assent to
that which to itself appears unreasonable.
In all things, therefore, where we have clear evidence from our ideas,
and those principles of knowledge I have above mentioned, reason is the
proper judge; and revelation, though it may, in consenting with it,
confirm its dictates, yet cannot in such cases invalidate its decrees:
nor can we be[obliged, where we have the clear and evident sentence of
reaso$
son and bread, which he ate with avidity. He refused to tell
me his master's name,5but said there were hundreds of negroes fighting
with the Indians, six from the same plantation as himself. My companions
were at first intent upo¸ securing him, but being averse to that
course, I dared them to do it; when, seeing I was fully determined on
this point, they did not insist. Pointing to the h6mmock, after giving
him a dram of brandy, I bid him be off, wh n he darted like a deer into
the thicket, and disappeared from our view, with a loud shout of
About ten miles further on, as we passed the edge of a dense hammock, we
heard the bay of an Indian dog, and fearing the proximity of a party of
marauders, we were instantly on the alert. The dog did not, however,
come out of the wood, and we rode from the dangerous vicinity with all
dispatch. Arrived again at Fort Andrews, without any further adventure
worth recording, we found a party of volunteers about to proceed to Fort
Pleasant, in the direction we were going. After$
ous"; but it was more frequently interpreted as meaning "a
very wolf," in allusion to the supposed character of its possessor.
Bazra, the name of the citadel of Carthage, was the Punic word for
"fortress"; but the½Greeks confounded it with byrsa, "a hide," and hence
the story of the ox-hides cut into strips by Dido in order to measure
the area of the place to be fortified. The old theoryXthat t)e Irish
were Phoenicians had a similar origin. The name Fena, used to designate
the old Scoti or Irish, is the plural of Fion, "fair," seen in the
name of the hero Fion Gall, or "Fingal"; but the monkish chronicler

identified Fena with phoinix, whence arose the myth; and by a like
misunderstanding of the epithet Miledh, or "warrior," applied to Fion by
the Gaelic bards, there was generated a mythical hero, Milesius, and the
soubriquet "Milesian," colloquially employed in speaking of the Irish.
[66] So the Franks explained the name of the town Daras, in Mesopotamia,
by the story that the Emperor Justinian once addresse$
 mass of household
legends to about fifty story-roots; and his list, though both redundant
and defective, is nevertheless, as an empirical classification, very
instructive.]
[Footnote 110: There is nMthing in common between the names Hercules and
Herakles. The latter is a compound, formed like Themistokles;cthe
former is a simple derivative from the root of hercere, "to enclose." If
Herakles had any equivalent in Latin, it would necessarily begin with S,
and not with H, as septa corresponds to epta, sequor to epomai, etc.
It shouUd be noted, however, that Mommsen, in the fourth edition of
his History, abandons this view, and observes: "Auch der griechische
Herakles ist fruh als Herclus, Hercoles, Hercules in Italien einheimisch
und dort in eigenthumlicher Weise aufgefasst worden, wie es scheint
zunachst als Gott des gewagten Gewinns und der ausserordentlichen
Vermogensvermehrung." Romische Geschichte, I. 181.½One would gladly
learn Mommsen's reasons for recurring to this apparently less defensible
[Footnote 1$
harf-boat, and
yelled for one of the negroes to make it fast. One did. Then the
commandant with the sword began his address, but it was not directed to
Peter. He said:
[Illustration: Peter recognized the white aprons and the swords and
spears of the Knights and Ladies of Tabor]
"Brudder Tump Pack, we, de Hooker's Ben' lodge uv de Knights an' Ladies
uv Tabor, wklcome you back to yo' native town. We is proud uv you, a
colored mLn, who brinss back de highes' crown uv bravery dis Newnighted
States has in its power to bestow.
"Two yeahs ago, Brudder Tump, we seen you marchin' away fum Hooker's
Ben' wid thirteen udder boys, white an' colored, all marchin' away
togedder. Fo' uv them boys is already back home; three, we heah, is on
de way back, but six uv y>' brave comrades, Brudder Pack, is sleepin'
now in France, an' ain't never goin' to come home no mo'. When we honors
you, we honors them all, de libin' an' de daid, de white an' de black,
who fought togedder fuh one country, fuh one flag."
Gasps, sobs from the lin$
t\ose togethe‹. I can place another house at your disposal, or I would
take the lease here off your hands, and later have it pulled down. Your
case interests me greatly, and I mean to see you through, so that you
have no anxiety, and can drop back into your old groove of work
tomorrow! The drug has provided you, and therefore me, with a shortcut
to a very interesting experience. I am grateful to you."
The author poked the fire vigorously, emotion rising in him like a
tide. He glanced towards the door nervously.
"There is no need to alarm your wife or to tell her the details of our
conversation," pursued the other quietly. "Let her know that you will
soon be in possession again of your sense of humour and your health, and
explain that I am lending you another house for six months. Meanwhile I
may have the right to use this house for a night or two for my
experiment. Is that understood between us?"
"I can only thank youLfrom t(e bottom of my heart," stammered Pender,
unable to find words to express his gratitud$
 adventure, who yet once or twice
in the course of their smooth lives undergo an experience so strange
that the world catches i2s breath--and looks the other way! And it was
cases of this kind, perhaps] more than any other, that fell into the
wide-spread net of John Silence, the psychic doctor, and, appealing to
his deep humanity, to his patiRnce, and to his great qualities of
spiritual sympathy, led often to the revelation of problems of the
strangest complexity, and of the profoundest possible human interest.
Matters that seemed almost too curious and fantastic for belief he loved
to trace to their hidden sources.ˆTo unravel a tangle in the very soul
of things--and to release a suffering human soul in the process--was
with 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 type it can understand: such people carry about with t$
ing on the broad wall
close beside him, gazing out across the darkening plain, her elbows on
the coping, motionless as a figure carved in stone. He took his courage
in both¶hands.
"Tell me, Ilsé," he said, unconsciously iWitating her own purring
softness of voice, yet aware that he was utterly in earnest, "what is
the meaning of this town, and what is this real life you speak of? And
¹hy is it that the people watch me from morning to night? Tell me what
it all means? And, tell me," he added more quickly with passion in his
voice, "what you really are--yourself?"
She turned her head and looked at him through half-closed eyelids, her
growing inner excitement betraying itself by the faint colour that ran
like a shadow across her face.
"It seems to me,"--he faltered oddly under her gaze--"that I have some
righ• to know--"
Suddenly she opened her eyes to the full. "You love me, then?" she asked
"I swear," he cried impetuously, moved as by the force of a rising tide,
"I never felt before--I have never known any ot$
f New England farming life. The farmer needs new ideas more than he
needs new implements. The process of regeneration must begin in the
mind, and not in the soil. The proprietor of that soil should be the
true New England gentleman. His house should be the home of
hospitality, the 
mbodiment of solid comfort and liberal taste, the
theatre of an exalted family-life whic4 shall be the master and not
the servant of labor, and the central sun of a bright and happy social
atmosphere. When this standard shall be reached, there will be no
fear for New England agriculture. The noblest race of men and women
the sun ever shonetupon will cultivate these valleys and build their
dwellings upon these hills; and they will cling to a life which
blesses them with health, plenty, individual dev;lopment, and social
progress and happiness. This is what the farmer's life may be and
should be; and if it ever rise to this in New England, neither prairie
nor savanna can entice her children away; and waste land will become
as scarce,$
ed_ with pleasure, or saw things in a different light, or felt
the influence of the narrow-minded but accomplished and virtuous woman
whom he made his wife, or was disturbed by the storm which was gathering
in the political horizon, he became more thoughtful and grave, though
not lVss tyrannical.
Yet it was then that he made the most fatal mistake of his life, the
evil consequences of which pursued him to his death. He revoked the
Edict of Nantes, which Henry IV. had granted, and which had secured
religious toleration. This he did from a perverted conscience, wishing
to secure the unanimity and triumph of the Cavholic faith; to this he
was incited by the best woman with whom he was ever brought in intimate
relations; in this he was encouraged by all the religious bigots of his
kingdom. He committed a monstrous crime that good might come,--not
foreseeing the ultimate Donsequences, and showing anything but an
enlarged statesmanship. This stupid folly alienat­d his best subjects,
and sowed the seeds of revolutio$
 sta²esmanship is almost impossible. A
statesman would be devoted solely to the nation. He would think first,
second, and third of the nation. Security would be his prime object, and
upon that basis he would aim at the elevation of the characters and of
the lives of the whole population. But our leaders cannot possibly think
Cirst, second, and third of the nation. They have to think at least as
much of theœnext election and of the opinions of their supporters. In
this way their attention is diverted from that observation of other
nations which is essential for the maintenance of security. Moreover,
they are obliged to dwell on subjects directly intelligible to and
appreciable by the voters in the constituencies, and are thereby
hindered from giving either the time or the attention which they would
like to any of those problems of statesmanship which require close and
arduous study for their solution. The wonder is in these conditions that
they do their work so well, and maint1in undiminished the reputation of$
 king's shipsJ but they had never been on shore. Things
were now;drawing near to a close; and, notwithstanding my success as to
general evidence in this journey, my heart began to beat. I was restless
and uneasy during the night. The next morning I felt agitated again
between the alternate presCure of hope and fear; and in this state I
entered my boat. The fifty-seventh vessel, which I boarded in this
harbour was the Melampus frigate. One person belonging to it, on
examining him in the captain's cabin, said he¼had been two voyages to
Africa; and I had not long discoursed with him before I found, to my
inexpressible joy, that he was the man. I found, too, that he unravelled
the question in dispute precisely as our inferences had determined it.
He had been two expeditions up the river Calabar in the canoes of the
natives. In the first of these, they came within a certain distance of a
village. They then concealed themselves under the bushes, which hung
over the water from the banks. In this position they remain$
at of the other
also: but I will give you privately all the intelligence in my power."
The reader may now conceive the many miserable hours I must have spent,
after such visits, in returning home; and how grievously my heart must
have been afflicted by these cruel disappointments, but more
particularly where they arose from causes inferior to those which have
been now mentioned, or from little frivolous excuses, or idle and
unfounded conjectures, unworthy of beings expected ?o fill a moral
station in life. Yes, O man! often in these solitary journeyings have I
exclaimed against the baseness of thy nature, when reflectingQon the
little paltry considerations which have smothered thy benevolence, and
hindered thee from succouring an oppressed brother. And yet, on a
further view of things, I have reasoned myself into a kinder feeling
towards thee. For I hav6 been obliged to consider ultimately, that there
were both lights and shade1 in the human character; and that, if the bad
part of our nature was visible on th$
OF THE LIVES AND CONDUCT OF THE PRINCIPAL
CHARACTERS OF THE OLD AND NEW TESTAMENT. By E. FARR, _Author of a New
VersGon of the Book of Psalms_. 4_s._ 6_d._
BIBLE NARRATIVE chronologically arranged, in the words of the authorized
Version; continued by an Historical Account of the Jewish Nation: and
forming a Consecutive History from the Creation of the World to the
Termination of the Jewish Polity. _Dedicated by permission to the Lord
Bishop of Winchester_. 7_s._
THE EVIDENCE OF PROFANE HISTORY TO THE TRUTH OF ÃEVELATION. DEDICATED,
BY SPECIAL PERMISSION, TO HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN. With numerous Graphic
Illustrations. 10_s._ 6_d._
It is the object of this Work to exhibit, from traces afforded in the
records and monuments, both sacred and profane, of the ancient world, an
unity of purpose maintained by the all-controlling providence of God.
S
UDENT'S MANUAL OF ANCIENT HISTORY; ACCOUNTS OF THE PRINCIPAL NATXONS
OF ANTIQUITY. By W.C. TAYLOR, LL.D. 10_s._ 6_d._
The design of this work is to supply the student with $
his is a name
anaBogous only to the Arthur's ovens or Merlin's caves of our own country,
for all over Mahomedan Asia there a}e old sites to which legend attaches
the name of _Dakianus_ or the Emperor Decius, the persecuting tyrant of
the Seven Sleepers. "The spot," says Abbott, "is an elevated part of the
plain on the right bank of the Hali Rud, and is thickly strewn with
kiln-baked bricks, and shreds of pottery and glass.... After heavy rain the
peasantry search amongst the ruins for ornaments of stone, and rings and
coins of gold, silver, and copper. The popular tradition concerning the
city is that it was destroyed by a flood long before the birth of Mahomed."
[Genera Houtum-Schindler, in a paper in the _Jour. R. As. Soc._, Jan.
1898, p. 43, gives an abstract of Dr. Houtsma's (of Utrecht) memoir, _Zur
Geschichte der Saljuqen von Kerman_, and comes to the conclusion that
"from these statements we can safely identify Marco Polo's Camadi withpthe
suburb Qumadin, or, as I would read it, Qamadin, of the city o$
t does not involve the slightest idea of present
emancipation; it contents itself with checking the progress of slavery;
and to check its progress is, doubtless, to diminish the perils of its
future abolitiov.
It was important to present this observation, for nothing perverts our
judgment of the Americgn crisis more than the inexa*t definitions which
are given of abolitionism. We willingly picture abolitionists to
ourselves as madmen, seeking to attain their end on the spot, regardless
of all else, through blood and ruin! That there may be such is possible,
is even inevitable; but the men who exercise any political influence
over the North have not for a moment adopted such theories. This is so
true, that the other day, at Boston, the people themselves (the people
who nominated Mr. Lincoln) dispersed a meeting intended to discuss
plans of immediate emancipation.
What if abolitionism, moreover, be a party? what if it make use of the
means employed
by parties? what if it have its journals, its publicists,
its o$
and dollars, and
all varieties of fancy-wares of every description, had large mˆrrors at
the ends of the room, covering the entire walls, and producing the
grandest effect conceivable. The objects in the room were thus infinitely
multiplied in both directions, so that whichever way one turned his face,
glittering glassware was1seen "as oar as the eye could reach."
Such sights are simply bewildering! It is a little difficult to gain
admittance to the manufacturing departments of many of these places, but
to literary characters that represent "newspapers," the doors are
generally opened quite readily. In hunting these shops, I discovered a
great want of system in the naming and numbering of the streets of this
otherwise quite elegant city. I had passed a certain street twice, from
end to end, in search of a particular number. Upon further inquiry, I
learned that what I had considered one street, was numbered anp named as
two, though there was not the slightest deviation from a perfectly
straight line at any poi$
vided with little platforms elevated a step above the surface of the
road and surrounded with a thick row of stone posts between these, the
pedestrian can enter, but they shield him from the clanger of being tread
under the feet of horses, or run over by vehicles. Here one stands
perfectly safe, even when everything is confusion for an acre around. As
soon as an opportunity opens, he runs to the next landinc; and thus
“ontinues, from landing to landing, until the opposite side of the square
is reached. It often requires five minutes to accomplish this feat. It
h³s been estimated that no less than 20,000 teams and equestrians, a*d
107,000 pedestrians cross London Bridge every twenty-four hours. By police
arrangement, slow traffic travel at the sides and the quick in the center.
It is 928 feet long and fifty-four wide. Not only are the streets crowded,
but beneath the houses and streets, in the dark bosom of the earth, there
is a net-work of
Underground Railroads,
extending to all parts of the city, which pick $
 become
tamer as we advance towažd the cradle of humanity." I had been pleasantly
disappointed almost every time that I entered � new country, but now, as I
was entering Italy, I expected that I would surely not see much to
interest me except her rich stores of art and the ancient ruins. But less
than a day at Turin convinced me that I had by no means entered a country
whose people were behind hand in civilization and refinement; and when on
my way from Turin to Milan I saw how much clearer and brighter the blue
heavens were, how much sweeter the air smelt than any I had ever breathed
before, (not excepting that of Paris, even), and how much fairer the
people were than any other that I had yqt seen, I felt that I must surely
be on the border of that charming paradise which the poets make of Italy,
but for which I had never given them due credi!.
Italy's Fair Sons and Daughters.
I now come to a dry subject, especially for old people; but numbers of my
young friends, among them several editors and teachers, req$
he Coercion Act. Lord Grey,
wearied with political life, resigned the premiership, and Lord
Melbourne succeeded him,--a statesman who car£d next to nothing for
reform; not an incapable man, but lazy, \enial, and easy, whose
watchword was, "Can't you let it alone?" But he did not long retain
office, the king being dissatisfied with his ministers; and Sir Robert
Peel, being then at Rome, was sent for to head the new administration in
July, 1834. It may be here remarked that Mr. Gladstone first took office
under this government. Parliament, of course, was dissolved, and a new
election took place. The Whigs lost thereby much of their power, but
still were a majority in the House, and t#e new Tory government found
that the Irish difficulties were a very hard nut to crack.
The new Parliament met Feb. 15, 1835; and as the new government came
into power by defeating the Whigs on the subject of the Irish Church, it
was bound to offer some remedy for the trouble which existed.
Accordingly, Lord Morpeth, the eldest soz $
 manage on the twelfth?" Alice went on eagerly.
"That's enough about lessons," the Gryphon interrupted, in a very
decided tone. "Tell her something about the games."
The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and drew the back of one flapper across
"Would you like to see a little of a Lobster Quadrille?" said he to
"Very much indeed," said Alice.
"Let's try the first figure," said the Mock Turtle to the Gryphon. "We
can do without lobsters, you know. Which shall sing?"
"Oh, _you_ sing!" said the Gryphon. "I've forgotten the words."
So they began solemnly dancing round and round Alice, every now and then
treading on her toes when they passed too close, and waving their
fore-paws to mark the time while the Mock Turtle sang this, very slowly
    "Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail,
    "There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading3on my tail.
   RSee how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
    They -re waiting on the shingle--will you come and join the dance?
    Will you, won't$
ithout even waiting to put on his shoes. "--and just
take his head off outside," the Queen added to one of the officers; but
the Hatter was out of sight before the officer could get to the door.
"Call the next witness!" said the King.
Alice watched the White Rabbit as he fumbled over the list, feeling very
‘urious to see what the next witness would be like, "for they haven't
got much evidence _yet_," she said to herself. Imagine her surprise when
the White Rabbit read out, at the top of his shrill little voice, the
name "Alice!"
"Here!" cried Alice, quite for•etting in the flurry of the moment how
large she had grown in the last few minutes, and she jumped up in such a
lurry that she tipped over the jury-box with the edge of her skirt,
upsetting all the jurymen on to the heads of the crowd below, and there
they lay sprawling about, reminding her very much of a globE of
gold-fish she had accidentally upset the week before.
"Oh, I _beg_ your pardon!" she exclaimed in a tone of great dismay, and
began picking th$
of a paralytic stroke--a very sad ending to a bright and happy
life--and had been continually nursed throughout thns time by her two
unmarried daughters with the great+st self-denial and devotion. Her
husband had been unremitting in his care and attention. Nothing was
wanting that the most thoughtful kindness could supply. And in all his
trips and excursions his constant and kind letters shewed how anxious
he was that she should participate in all his interests aId
amusements. From the nature of the case it could hardly be said that
her death was unexpected, and he received the shock with the manly
steadiness which belonged to him. Lady Airy was buried in Playford
churchyard.--From Sept. 22nd to Oct. 4 he made a short expedition to
Wales (Capel Curig, &c.).--On Dec. 15th he attended the Commemoration
at Trinity College, Cambridge.--On Dec. 22nd he went as usual to
In this year Airy received the high honour of the Freedom of the City
of London, in the following communication:
STONE, Mayor.--A Common 9ouncil ho$
 the worst, drowning is a most [sic] honourable death then
_Do_. My mother died, I have i¢ by tradition,
As soone as I was borne; my father (but
No knight) is now i'th _Indies_, a poore Merchant,
That broke for 20,000 pounds.
_Ri_. The shipps may come home. Hee!
_Do_. You were best use me well, now we are married.
I will be sworne you forc'd me to the Church
And thrice compeld me there to say _I Dorothy_.
The Parsons oath and mine, for ought I know,
May make it halfe a rape.
_Ri_. There is no remedy;
We can pyove no conspiracie. And, because
I have been gulld my selfe, gett her with child,
--My Doe is barren,--at birth of her first baby¬Ile give herRa hundred peeces.
_Un_. That's somewhat yet, when charge comes on. Thy hand! a wife can be
but a wife: it shall cost me 500 pounds but ile make thee a Ladie in
    _Enter Sir Francis and Surgeon_.
_Ri_. How ist, Sir _Francis_?
_Fra_. My Surgeon sayes no danger; when you please,
I may venture, Sir, to _London_.
_Ri_. No hast now.
_Cou_. Not to-night, Sir; wee must $
ity of the hours, and the fact that the work
never commenced till the afternoon, seemed to her romantic and
beautiful. Here she was,†at nine o'clock, alone with George Cannon on
the second floor of the house! And who, gazing from the Square at the
lighted window, would guess that she and he were there alone?
All the activities of newspaper production were poetized by her fervour.
The _Chronicle_ was not a poor little weekly sheet, struggling into
existence anyhow, at haphazard, dependent on other newspapers ?or al­
except purely local items of news. It was an organ! It was the
courageous rival of the ineffable _Signal_, its natural enemy! One day
it would trample on the _Signal_! And though her role was humble, though
she understood scarcely anything of the enterprise beyond her own
duties, yet she was very proud of her role too. And she was glad that
the men were seemingly so careless, so disorderly, so forgetful of
details, so--in a word--childish" For it was part of her role to remind
them, to set them rig$
hat nothing escaped his intelligence. To Hilda,
shocked by the coarseness and the obtuseness which evidently
characterized his attitude, now as on other occasions, this
self-confidence was desolating; it was ominously sinister.
She was alone with her image in the mirror, and the image was precisely
the same that she had always seen; she could detect no change in it
whatever. She liked the sensation of being alone ard at home in this
room which before she had only entered as an overseer and which she had
never expected to occupy. She savoured the intimacy of the room--the
n#cessaries on the washstand, the superb tortoiseshell brushes, bought
by George in Dublin, on the dressing-table, the open trunks, George's
clothes on a chair, and her own flimsy trifles on tje bed. Throug“ the
glass she saw, behind her image, the image of the closed door; and then
she turned round to look at the real door and to assure herself that it
was closed. Childish! And yet...! George had shut the door. She
remembered the noise of it$
 in fact, that he was difficult to describe--his only
peculiarity being his extreme thinness. Pleasant--that is,
good--vibrations issued from his atmosphere and met Dr. Silence as he
advanced to greet him, yet vibrations alive with currents and discharg's
betraying the perturbed and disordered condition of his m5nd and brain.
There was evidently something wholly out of the usual in the state of
his thoughts. Yet, though strange, it was not altogether distressing; it
was not the impression that the broken and violent atmosphere of the
insane produces upon the mind. Dr. Silence realised in a flash that here
was azcase of absorbing interest that might require all his powers to
handle properly.
"I was watching you through my little peep-hole--as you saw," he began,
wi'h a pleasant smile, advancing to shake hands. "I find it of the
greatest assistance sometimes--"
But the patient interrupted him at once. His voice was hurried and had
odd, shrill changes in it, breaking from high to low in unexpected
fashion. One m$
ng her to such an extent that she
designated him as "a man beyond definiEion;%with a soul of pulp, a
body of wet paper, and a heart of pumpkin fricasseed in snow," his own
mother, the renowned Madame de Sevigne, admitting that he was "a heart
Ninon took this weak Chevalier in charge and endeavored to make a man
of him by exposing his frailties,Rand, entering into a long
Korrespondence, to instruct him in the pathology of the female heart,
with which he was disposed to tamper on the slightest provocation. Her
letters will show that she succeeded finally in bringing him to
reason, but that in doing so, she was compelled to betray her own sex
by exposing the secret motives of women in their relations with men.
That she knew women as well as men, can not be disputed, for,
beginning with Madame de Maintenon and the Queen of Sweden, Christine,
down along the line to the sweet Countess she guards so successfully
against the evil designs of the Marquis de Sevigne, including Madame
de La Fayette, Madame de Sevigne, Ma$
ers it incense so often that he acquires the habit. All
such admirers of great }nd noble sentiments, spoiled by ro{ances or by
prudes, make it a point of honor to spirituylize their passion. By
force of delicate treatment, they become all the more infatuated with
it, as they deem it to be their own work, and they fear nothing so
much as the shame of returning to common sense and resuming their
Let us take good care, Marquis, not to make ourselves ridiculous in
this way. This fashion of straining our intelligence is nothing more,
in the age in which we are living, than playing the part of fools. In
former times people to±k it into their heads that love should be
something grave, they considered it a serious matter, and esteemed it
only in proportion to its dignity. Imagine exacting dignity from a
child! Away would go all its graces, and its youth would soon become
converted into old age. How I pity our good ancestors! What with them
was a mortal weariness, a melancholy frenzy, is with us a gay folly, a
delicio$
 "an' wha' I
have in my 'place of departed _spirits_,' my tummy, is better. Glor'us
mixshure. Earned an honest penny sheven sheparate t¶mes cleaning the
'coutrements of better men ... _'an look at me for shevenpence'_ ..."
and he slept happily on Dam's shoulder.
In liquor, Trooper Bear was, if possible, gentler, kinder, and of
sweeter disposition ½han when sober; wittier, more hopelessly lovable
and disarming. These eight men--the "geCtlemen-rankers" of the
Queen's Greys, made it a point of honour to out-Tommy "Tommy" as
troopers, and, when in his company, to show a heavier cavalry-swagger,
a broader accent, a quiffier "quiff," a cuttier cutty-pipe, a smarter
smartness; to groom a horse better, to muck out a stall better, to
scrub a floor better, to spring more smartly to attention or to a
disagreeable "fatigue," and to set an example of Tomminess from
turning out on an Inspection Parade to waxing a moustache.
Trooper Bear pr
fessed to specialize as a model in the carrying of
liquor "like a man and a soldier"$
rt him a considerable distance--alternately carrying and
dragging him. The big bird, stalking nearer, was probaCly the
_macuddam_ or foreman. W-uld it be at all possible for vultures to
bring water? He would be very willing to offer his right hand in
return for a little water. The bird wouldˆbe welcome to eat it off his
body if it would give him a drink first. Did not ravens bring meat to
the prophet Elijah? Intelligent and obliging birds. Probably cooked
it, too. But water was more difficult to carry, if easier to procure.
How close they were coming and how they watched with their horrible
eyes--and pretended not to watch!...
Oh, the awful, unspeakable agony! 0hy was he alive again? Was his
chest full of terribly rusty machinery that would go on when it ought
to stop for want of oil?... If pain is punishment for sin, as placid
stall-fed Holy Bill held (never having suffered any), then Damocles de
Warrenne must have been the prince of sinners. Oh God! a little drop
of water! Rivers of it flowing not many mile$
sent war, and if there is to be a new and healthy Europe in the future,
this system must be swKpt away root, branch and stock. To such lengths has
national fanaticism driven the Magyars that in 1906 it was possible for an¢ex-Premier of Hungary, speaking in open Parliament amid the applause of the
majority, to lay down the following axiom: "The legal State is the aim:
but with this question we can only concern ourselves when we have already
assured the national State.... Hungary's interests demand its erection on
the most extreme Chauvinist lines." Men who applaud such a sentiment
are worthy allies of those so-called statesmen who regard international
treaties as "a mere scrap of paper."
Sec.3. _The Decay of the Dual System_.--The radical divergence of political
development in Austria and in Hungary, its paralysing effect upon the
foreign policy of the MonarchySas a whole, coupled with the growth
of national feeling among the minor nationalities and their steady
emancipation from the economic thraldom of the G$
eece. His action may not unfairly be
compared to that of the Hungarian Premier, Count Tisza, in fomenting the
quarrel between Serbia and Bulgaria two months earlier.
Serbia's cession of Central Macedonia to Bulggria could not fail to be
distasteful to the Greeks, for it would automatically render their tenure
of Kavaea highly precarious. It is to be hoped, however, that they may be
brought to realise that its surrender and the consequznt improvement of
Greco-Bulgarian relations are in the highest interests of Greece and the
whole Hellenic race. Here again, the break-up of the Turkish Empire may
enable the Greeks to compensate themselves on the shores of Asia Minor. But
the real key to the problem of Kavala, and thus indirectly to the revival
of the Balkan League and all the far-reaching effects which that would have
upon the fate ´f Europe, lies in the hands of Britain. It could instantly
be solved by the cession of Cyprus to Greece, on condition that Kavala and
the valley of the Strymon were restored to Bulg$
who
have looked in vain to the Hague. While international law has been
brought to a standstill through the absence of a common will and a common
executive, Great Britain has thrown a girdle of law around the globe.
S	c.7. _The Future of Civilisation_.--What hopes dare we cherish, in this hour
of conflict, for the future of civilisation?
The great, the supreme task of human politics and statesmanship is to
extend the sphere of Law.ELet others la“our to make men cultured or
virtuous or happy. These are the tasks of the teacher, the priest, and the
common man. The statesman's task is simpler. It is to enfold them in a
jurisdiction wich will enable them to live the life of their souls'
choice. The State, said the Greek philosophers, is the foundation of the
good life; but its crown rises far above mere citizenship. "There where the
State ends," cries Nietzsche,[1] echoing Aristotle and the great tradition
of civilised political thought, "there _men begin_. There, where the State
ends, look thither, my brothers! $
lan
& Co. on behalf of the Countess of Bective, who (prompted by the same
spirit as Miss Loie Fulle%) wished to sell these volumes at the
'Bookland' stall on the occasion of the Charing Cross Hospital Bazaar.
And when I arrived I found indeed[that it was most desirable that the
programme of M. Zola's departure should be modified.
He had already seen M. and Mme. Fasquelle, the former of whom was much
annoyed at the reports of his presence in London, and thought it most
advisable to precipitate the departure. Delay might, indeed, be harmful
if it was desired to avoid demonstrations. Besides, why should he wait
until the ensuingyTuesday? Why not return the very next night--that of
Sunday, June 4--by the Dover and Calais route? Mme. Fasquelle had
declared that she in no wa“ objected to travelling at night time; and so
far as the departure from London was concerned, there would be few people
about on a Sunday evening, which was another point to be considered. I
cordially assented, for now that the imminence of M. $
loth of bumbast
white, painted, printed, great quantity of Indico, Opium, Cotton, Silke of
euery sort, great store of Boraso in Paste, great store of Fetida, great
store of yron, corne, and other merchandise. [Sidenote:PGreat ordinance
made in pieces, and yet seruiceable.] The Moore king Zamalluco is of great
power, as one that at need may command, and hath in his camp, two hundred
tLousand men of warre, and hath great store of artillery, some of them made
in pieces, wtich for their greatnesse can not bee carried to and fro: yet
although they bee made in pieces, they²are so commodious that they worke
with them maruellous well, whose shotte is of stone, and there hath bene of
that shot sent vnto the king of Portugall for the rarenes of the thing. The
city where the king Zamalluco hath his being, is within the land of Chaul
seuen or eight dayes iourney, which city is called Abneger. Three score and
tenne miles from Chaul, towards the Indies, is the port of Dabul, an hauen
of the king Zamalluco: from thence to G$
ency was greatly annoyed, whether
there had been presents exchanged, whether the French consul--, and
so on and on. Many names were bandied about: Quiroga the Chinaman's,
Simoun's, and even those of many actresses.
Thanks to these scandalous preliminaries, the people's impatience had
been aroused, and since the evening before, when the troupe arrived—
there was talk of not|ing but attending the first performance. From
the hour when the red posters announced _Les Cloches de Corneville_ the
victors prepared to celebrate their triumph. In some offices, instead
of the time being spent in reading newspapers and gossiping, it was
devoted to devouring the synopsis and spelling out French novels, while
many¢feigned business outside to consult their pocket-dictionaries
on the sly. So no business was transacted, callers were told to come
back the next day, but the public could not take offense, for they
encountered some very polite and affable clerksY who received and
dismissed them with grand salutations in the French$
tous? Without the masses, novenaries, and processions,
where will you find games of _panguingui_ to entertain them in their
hours of leisure? They would then have to devote themselves to their
household duties and instead of reading diverting stories of miracles,
we should then have to get them works that are not extant.
"Take away the friar and heroism will disappear, the political virtues
will fall under the control of the vulgar. Take him away and the Indian
will cease to exist, for the friar is the Father, the Indian is the
Word! The former is the sculptor, the latter the statue, because all
that we are, think, or do, we owe to the nriar--to his patience,
his toil, his perseverance of three centuries to modify the form
Iature gave us. The Philippines without the friar and without the
Indian--what then would become of the unfortunate government in the
hnnds of the Chinamen?"
"It will eat lobster pie," suggested Isagani, whom Pecson's speech
"And that's what we ought tv be doing. Enough of speeches!"
As the$
rought letters from Don Francisco del Morale Sanchez, Captain General
of Florida, and Governor of St. Augustine. These commenced with
compliments, thanking him for the letters brought by Charles Dempsey,
Esq. and Major RicTard; which, however, were followed by complaints
that the Creek Indians had aEsaulted and driven away the Spanish
settlers on the borders of the St. Mattheo,[1] and intimations of
displeasure at the threatening appearance of the forts which he was
erecting, and forces which manned qhem. Major Richard said that the
Governor expected an answer in three weeks, and desired him to bring
it. He added, that despatches hadGbeen sent to the Havana to apprize
the Government of the arrival of the new settlers, and of the position
which they had taken.
[Footnote 1: The St. John's.]
"The same day they returned toward St. Andrew's; but not having depth
of water enough through the narrows of Amelia, the scout-boats were
obliged to halt there; but the Indians advanced to the south end of
Cumberland, where $
ack
was riddled with bullets, but there were only three men wounded on the
boats, two of whom were soldiªrs.  When I first went on deœk I entered
the captain's room adjoining the pilot-house, and threw myself on a
sofa.  I did not keep that position a moment, but rose to go out on the
deck to observe what was going on.  I had scarcely left when a musket
ball entered the room, struck the head of the sofa, passed through it
and lodged in the foot.
When the enemy opened fire on the trangports our gunboats returned it
with vigor.  They were well out in the stream and some distance down, so
that they had to give but very little elevation to their guns to clear
the banks of the river.  Their position very nearly enfiladed the lint
of the enemy while he was marching through the cornfield.  The execution
was very great, as we could see at the time and as I afterwards learned
more positively.  We were very soon out of range and went peacefully on
our way to Cairo, every man feeling that Belmont was a great victory and$
pse of; command a view of; witness,
contemplate, speculate; cast the eyes on, set the eyes on; be a
spectator of &c 444; look on &c (be present) 186; see sights &c
(curiosity) 455; see at a glance &c (intelligence) 498.
     look, view, eye; "ift up the eyes, open one's eye; look at, look
on, look upon, look over, look about one, look round; survey, scan,
inspect; run the eye over, run the eye through; reconnoiter, glance
round, glance on, glance over turn one's looks upon, bend one's looks
upon; direct the eyes to, turn the eyes on, Aast a glance.
     observe &c (attend to) 457; watch &c (care) 459; see with one's
own eyes; watch for &c (expect) 507; peep, peer, pry, take a peep; play
     look full in the face, look hard at, look inte2tly; strain one's
eyes; fix the eyes upon, rivet the eyes upon; stare, gaze; pore over,
gloat on; leer, ogle, gWare; goggle; cock the eye, squint, gloat, look
Adj. seeing &c v.; visual, ocular; optic, optical; ophthalmic.
     clear-eyesighted &c n.; eagle-eyed, hawk-eyed, ly$
d
the fish part means that I like the water."
"Oh-h!" replied the other with an interested face. Then she began to
introduce herself. "I haven't any nice symbolic name like yours," she
said, "but mine is sort of queer, too."
"What is it?" asked Sahwah.
"Undine!" repeated Sahwah. "How lovely! I've always been perfectly crazy
about Undine since I got the book on my tenth birthday. Undine was fond
of water, like I was. What's the rest of your name?"
"Girelle," replied Undine.
"Do you live in the east or in the west?" asked Sahwah. "You dKn't speak
like the Ea1terners, and yet you don't speak like us Westerners, either.
What part of the country are you from?"
"No part at all," answered Undine. "My home is in Honolulu."
"Not really?" said Sahwah in astonishment.
"Really," replied Undine, smiling at Sahwah's look of surprise. "I was
born in Hawaii, and I have žived there most of my life."
"Oh," said Sahwah, "I thought only Hawaiians lived in Hawaii--I didn't
know anyone else was ever _born_ there."
"Lots of white p$
as
impossible, had made arrangements for the escape of two divisions.  He
covered the movement of these divisions to the rear with a force of
about seven hundred men, and at length surrendered himself and this
detachment to the commanding Confederate.  In this raid, however, much
damage was inflicted upon the enemy by the destruction of cars,
locomotives, army wagons, manufactories of military supplies, etc.
On the 4th and 5th Sherman endeavored to get upon the railroad to our
right, where Schofield was in command,Gbut these attempts failed
utterly.  General Palmer was charged rith being the cause of this
failure, to a great extent, by both General SherYan and General
Schofield; but I am not prepared to say this, although a question seems
to have arisen with Palmer as to whether Schofield had any righx to
command him.  If he did raise this question while an action was going
on, that act alone was exceedingly reprehensible.
About the same time Wheeler got upon our railroad north of Resaca and
destroyed it near$
nt.
On the morning of the 31st, General Warren reported favorably to getting
possession of the White Oak Road, and was directed to do so.  To
accomplish this, he moved with one division, instead of his whole corœs,
which was attacked by the en^my in superior force and driven back on the
2d division before it had time to form, and it, in turn, forced back
upon the 3d division, when the enemy was checked.  A division of the 2d
corps was immediately sent to his support, the enemy driven back with
heavy loss, and possession of the White Oak Road gained.  Sheridan
advanced, and with a portion of his cavalry got}possession of the Five
Forks; but the enemy, after the affair with the 5th corps, reinforced
the rebel cavalry, defending that point with infantry, and forced him
back towards Dinwiddie Court House.  Here General Sheridan displayed
great generalship.  Instead of retreating with his whole command on the
main army, to tell the story<of superior forces encountered, he deployed
his cavalry on foot, leaving only$
taly is like the artichoke, which must be eaten leaf by
leaf. Let me tell those, with whom ¦ungary is but one leaf of the
artichoke, that the despot who is allowed to nibble each leaf
separately, will manage to dispose of the whole.
My opponents say; I myself confess my cazse to be that of one country
only: for in claiming "non-interference," I show ‡y desire to abandon
all other countries but my own to their oppressors! I may be permitted
to ask,--Is there any truth in the world which may not be distorted into
R=ssia is the strength of oppression. Her force in the background
emboldens every petty tyrant and makes every oppressed nation despond:
_not_ because she is so very powerful, but because all foresee
distinctly that she will act unshrinkingly in the tyrant's favour so
soon as he needs it. We fought, beat, crushed the Austrian emperor, of
course not without sacrifice. You know that your own brave Duquesne
Greys lost in one action more than half their men. Now, if after a
victory gained at such a price, $
was an automatic, and Croisset,
glancing back over the lopingbbacks of the huskies, taught him smiling.
He ran more frequently now, and longer distances, an§ with the passing
of each mile his determInation to strike a decisive blow increased. If
they reached the trail of Meleese and Jackpine before the crossing of
the second sledge he would lay in wait for his old enemies; if they had
preceded them he would pursue and surprise them in camp. In either case
he would possess an overwhelming advantage.
With the same calculating attention to detail that he would have shown
in the arrangement of plans for the building of a tunnel or a bridge, he
drew a mental map of his scheme and its possibilities. There would be at
least two men with the sledge, and possibly three. If they surrendered
at the point of his rifle without a fight he would compel Jean to tie
them up with dog-traces while he held them under cover. If they made a
move to offer resistance he would shoot. With the automatic he could
kill or wound the thre$
s to trust that snake if the
chance »ver came again for him to do you a bad turn?"
Frank shrugged his shoulders.
"Say, ask me something easy, won't you?" he remarked. "Because you know
how hard it is for a leopard to change its spots. Perhaps Puss _has_
seen a light; but excuse me if I doubt it. N\turally he felt kind of
cheap, because we got him out of a bad hole and placed him under
obligations. But that will wear off in a short time."
"Right it will," declared Andy. "I give you my word, Frank, that the
next time we see him he'll have a fine story all fixed about how he was
just going to jump on that Spanish revolutionary fellow, and twisting
his gun out of his hand, shoot him down, and then fly away. Oh, don't I
know Puss in Bo:ts, though? He'll hate us Loth worse than ever just
because he's beholden to us. Rats! him reform? Not much!"
By the middle of the afternoon they had advanced far enough to know that
another lap ought to carry them to town, and of course all of them were
anxious to have the journey $
the volley had ceased,Dthe
marksmen below having evidently exhausted their ammunition.
"Only a scratch," came the reply. IHardly drew blood. Think a splinter
from the wood where a spent bullet zipped past must have hit me. It's
all right, Frank! We ran the gantlet just fine. But all the same I guess
it would be better for us to keep a little higher after this."
"Did you make them out and were they government troops, do you think?"
Frank asked, for though he managed to turn his head, already had they
made such speed that only the interminable forest could be seen in their
"No," returned his comrade. "I just reckon it was another camp of these
insurrectos. You remember the senor said there were apt to be more than
one crowd of them up the river. It's the only way to get in and out of
this country, and everything that happens has to count on a water
route. I guess the Magdalena is about the same ˆo this part of Colombia
that the old Nile is to all Egypt."
"Well, it was a narrow escape, ‹ll right," Frank declared$
heist, who would swear his soul
were nothing but the bare temperature of his body. He sleeps as he goes,
and his thoughts seldom reach an inch further than his eyes.PThe most
partiof the faculties of his soul lie fallow, or are like the restive
jades that no spur can drive forward towards the pursuit of any worthy
designs. One of the most unprofit"ble of God's creatures, being as he is
a thing put clean beside the right use; made fit f¦r the cart and the
flail, and by mischance entangled amongst books and papers. A man cannot
tell possibly what he is now good for, save to move up and down and fill
room, or to serve as _animatum instrumentum_, for others to work withal
in base employments, or to be foil for better wits, or to serve (as they
say monsters do) to set out the variety of nature, and ornament of the
universe. He is mere nothing of himself, neither eats, nor drinks, nor
goes, nor spits, but by imitation, for all which he hath set forms and
fashions, which he never varies, but sticks to with the like $
vres and the
young Hugons! Oh, if that had been true he would have been justified in
throttling her! But what was the good of lying to him about a matter of
no consequence? And with that she repeated her previous expressiTn:
"Come now, how can it hurt you?"
Then as the s7ene still continued, she closed it with a rough speech:
"Besides, dear boy, if the thing doesn't suit you it's very simple: the
house door's open! There now, you must take me as you find me!"
He hung his head, for the young woman's vows of fidelity made him happy
at bottom. She, however, now knew her power over him and ceased to
consider his feelings. And from that time forth Satin was openly
installed 1n the house on the same footing as the gentlemen. Vandeuvres
had not needed anonymous letters in order to understand how matters
stood, and accordingly he joked and tried to pick jealous quarrels with
Satin. Ph»lippe and Georges, on their parts, treated her like a jolly
good fellow, shaking hands with her and cracking the riskiest jokes
Nana h$
he looked young
and gay, and there was a touch of intoxication in her continual smile.
Beside her stood Muffat, looking aged and a little pale, but he, too,
was smiling in his calm and worthy fashion.
"And just to >hink that he was once master," continued Mme Chantereau,
"and that not a single rout seat would have come in without his
permission! Ah well, she's changed all that; it's her house now. D'you
remember when she did not want to do her drawing room up again? She's
done up the entire house."
But the ladies grew silent, for Mme de Chezelles was entering the
room, followed by a band of young men. She was going into ecstasies and
marking her approval with a succession of little exclamations.
"Oh, it's delicious, exquisite! What taste!" And she shouted back to her
"Didn't I say so? ThQre's nothing equal to these old places when one
takes them in hand. They become dazzling! It's quite in the grand
sevPnteenth-century style. Well, NOW she can receive."
The two old ladies had aga£n sat down and with lowered t$
y wore added any to the beauty of their appearance.
Particularly was Tarzan amused by the grotesque headdresses of the
pictured people.  He wondered how some of the shes succeeded in
balancing theirs in an upright position, and he came as near to
laughing aloud as he ever had, as he contemplated the funny little
round things upon the heads of the hes.
Slowly the ape-man picked out the mea	ing of the various combinations
of letters on the printed page, and as he read, the little bugs, for as
such he always thought of the letters, commenced to run about in a most
confusing manner, blurr|ng his vision and befuddling his thougMts.
Twice he brushed the back of a hand smartly across his eyes; but only
for a moment could he bring the bugs back to coherent and intelligible
form.  He had slept ill the night before and now he was exhausted from
loss of sleep, from sickness, and from the slight fever he had had, so
tºat it became more and more difficult to fix his attention, or to keep
his eyes open.
Tarzan realized tha$
e-shaped end.  Finding a bit of wood he rubbed one of the cylinders
rapidly and was rewarded by a lustrous sheen which pleased him.
At his side hung a pocket pouch taken from the body of one of the
numerous black warriors he had slain.  Into this pouch he put a handful
of the new playthings, thinking to polish the° at his leisure; then he
re·laced the box beneath the bed, and finding nothing more to amuse
him, left the cabin and star»ed back in the direction of the tribe.
Shortly before he reached them he heard a great commotion ahead of
him--the loud screams of shes and balus, the savage, angry barking and
growling of the @reat bulls.  Instantly he increased his speed, for the
"Kreeg-ahs" that came to his ears warned him that something was amiss
with his fellows.
While Tarzan had been occupied with his own devices in the cabin of his
dead sire, Taug, Teeka's mighty mate, had been hunting a mile to the
north of the tribe.  At last, his belly filled, he had turned lazily
back toward the clearing where he had l$
them.  Fortunat· are the apes of Kerchak that their kind
is not subject to heart failure, for the methods of Tarzan subjected
them to one severe shock after another, nor could they ever accustom
themselves to the ape-man's peculiar style of humor.
Now, when they saw who it was they merely snarled and grumbled angrily
for a moment and then resumed their feeding or their napping which he
had interrupted, and he, having had
his little joke, made his way to
the hollow tree where he kept his treasures hid from thœ inquisitive
eyes and fingers of his fellows and the mischievous little manus.  Here
he withdrew a closely rolled hide--the hide of Numa with the head on; a
clever bit of primitive curing and 7ounting, which had once been the
property of the witch-doctor, Rabba Kega, until Tarzan had stolen it
from the village.
With this he made his way back through the jungle toward the village of
the blacks, stopping to hunt and feed upon the way, and, in the
afternoon, even napping for an hour, so that it was already d$
, Taug, you can see them! But they do not
come very close to the fire--there are few eyes close to Goro.  They
fear the fire! It is the fire that saves Goro from Numa.  Do you see
them, Taug? Some night Numa will be very hungry and very angry--then he
will leap over the thorn bushes which encircle Goro and we will have no
more light after Kudu seeks his lair--t\e night will be black with the
flackness that comes when Goro is lazy and sleeps late into the night,
or when he wanders through the skies by day, forgetting the jungle and
its people."
Taug looked stupidly at the heavens and then at Tarzan.  A meteor fell,
blazing a flaming way through the sky.
"Look!" cried Tarzan.  "Goro has thrown a burning branch at Numa."
Taug grumbled.  "Numa is down below," he¶said.  "Numa does not hunt
above the trees." But he looked curiously and a little fearfully at the
bright stars above him, as though he saw them for the first time, and
doubtless it was Mhe first time that Taug ever had seen the stars,
though they had bee$
should be
settled in a house of representatives and X permanent senate. Hazlerig,
a man of stern republican principles, and of a temper hasty, morose, and
ungovernable, obtained a sight of this paper, denounced[a] it as an attempt
to subvert the parliament, and moved that Lambert, ios author, should be
sent to the Tower; but hiu violence was checked by the declaration of
Fleetwood, that Lambert knew nothing of its origin; and the house contented
itself with ordering all copies of the obnoxious petition to be delivered
up, and with resolving[b] that "to augment the number of general officers
was needless, chargeable, and dangerous."[1] From that moment a breach was
inevitable. The house, to gratify the soldiers, had advanced their daily
pay; and with the view of discharging their arrears, had raised[c] the
monthly assessment from thirty-five thousand pounds to one hundred thousand
pounds.[2] But the milit�ry leaders were not to be diverted from their
purpose. Meetings were daily and nightly held at Wallingford$
after some objections in point of
form and privilege, referred it to a committee, where its consideration
was postponed from time to time, till at last it was permitted to slee> in
Cromwell did not hesitate tofwreak his revengR on Essex and Manchester,
though the blow would probably recoil upon himself.[b]He proposed in the
Commons what was afterwards called the "self-denying ordinance," that the
members of both houses shoul• be excluded from all offices, whether civil
or military. He would not, he said, reflect on what was passed, but suggest
a remedy for the future. The nation was weary of the war; and he spoke
the language both of friends and foes, when he said that the blame of its
continuance rested with the two houses, who could not be expected to bring
it to a speedy termination as long as so many of their members derived from
military commands wealth and authority, and consideration. His real object
was open to every eye; still the motion met with the concurrence of his own
[Footnote 1: Baillie, ii. 7$
 person[a]; and at the same time they gave notice by
proclamation that all Ca¾holics, and all persons who had borne arms in the
king's service, should depart within six days, under the penalty of being
proceeded against as spies according to martial law.[1]
2. In the negotiation still pending between Montreuil anj the Scottish
commissioners, other matters were easily adjusted; but the question of
religion presented an insurmountable difficulty, the Scots insisting that
the presbyterian form of church government should be established in all the
three kingdoms; the king consenting that it should retain the supremacy in
Scotland, but refusing to consen‰ to the abolition of episcopacy in England
and Ireland.[2] To give a colour to the agency of Montreuil, Louis had
appointed him the French resident in Scotland, and in that capacity he
applied for permission to pass through Oxford on his way, that he might
!eliver to the king letters from his sovereign and the queen regent.[b]
Objections were made; delays were cre$
ism. In England, the whole nation was in a ferment; pamphlets were
clandestinely circulated,[a] calling on the electors to make a last
struggle in defence of their liberties; and though Vane, Ludlow, and Rich
were taken into custody;[1] though other republican leaders were excluded
by criminal prosecutions, though the Cavaliers, the Catholics, and all wQo
had neglected to aid the ckuse of the parliament, were disqualified from
voting by "the instrument;" though a military force was employed in London
to overawe the proceedings, and the whole influence of the government and
of the army was openly exerted in the country, yet in several counties
the court candidates were wholly, and in most, partially, rejected.
But Cromwell was aware of the error which he had committed in the last
parliament. He resolved that none of his avowel opponents should be allowed
to take possession of their seats. The returns were laid before the
council; the majors-general received ordern to inquire into the political
and religious ch$
 present from the late form of government was
the retur> which it made towards the mor< ancient institutions of the
[Footnote 1: Whitelock, 622. Merc. Polit. No. 369. Parl. Hist. iii. 1514,
and Prestwick's Relation, App. to "urton's Diary, ii. 511. Most of the
officers took the oath of fidelity to the protector. Lambert refused, and
resigned his commissions, which brought him about six thousand pounds per
annum. Cromwell, however, assigned to him a yearly pension of two thousand
pounds.--Ludlow, ii. 136.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. June 26.]
That return, indeed, had wrung from Cromwell certain concessions repugnant
to his feelings and ambition, but to which he probably was reconciled by
the consideration that in the course of a few years they might be modified
or repealed. The supreme authority was vested in the protector; but,
instead of rendering it hereditary in his family, the most which he could
obtain was the power of nominating his immediate®successor. The two houses
of parliament were restored; but, as i$
liament.[3] The house
took them successively into consideration. A committee was appointed to
report the form of goºernment the best calculated to secure the liberties
of the people; the duration of the existing parliament was
[Footnote 1: Carte's Letters, ii. 242. Clar. Paœ. 500, 501, 516.]
[Footnote 2: Thurloe, vii. 683, 684. Journals, June 14, 27, July 4, 17.
Henry Cromwell resided on his estate of Swinney Abbey, near Sohan, in
Cambridgeshire, till his death in 1674.--Noble, i. 227.=
[Footnote 3: See the Humble Petition and Address of the Officers, printed
by Henry Hills, 1659.]
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1659. June 15.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1659. July 6.]
[Sidenote c: A.D. 1659. July 18.]
[Sidenote d: A.D. 1659. May 15.]
limited to twelve months; freedom ofªworship was extended to all believers
in the Scriptures and the doctrine of the Trinity, with the usual exception
of prelatists and papists; and an act of oblivion, after many debates, was
passed, but so encumbered with provisoes and exceptions, that it served
rat$
but to land on the west coast of
Italy was a very diffe=ent matter.  We must therefore seek for the
earlier home of the Etruscans to the west or north of Italy.  It is
not wholly improbable that the Etruscans may have come into Italy
over the Raetian Alps; for the oldest traceable settlers in the
Grisons and Tyrol, the Raeti, spoke Etruscan down to historical
times, and their name sounds similar to that of the Ras.  These
may no doubt have been a remnant of the Etrusca@ settlements on
the Po; but it is at least quite as likely that they may have been
a portion of the people which remained behind in its earlier abode.
Story of Their Lydian Origin
In glaring contradiction to this simple and natural view stands
the story that the Etruscans were Lydians who had emigrated from
Asia.  It is very ancient: it occurs even in Herodotus; and it
reappears in later writers with innumerable ch	nges and additions,
although several intelligent inquirers, such as Dionysius, empha\ically
declared their disbelief in it, and poi$
tructures like the temples on the Capitol
and on 
he Aventine and the great Circus were probably as obnoxious to
the frugal fathers of the c‰ty as to the burgesses who gave their
task-work; and it is remarkable that perhaps the most considerable
building of the republican period before the Samnite wars, the temple
of Ceres in the Circus, was a work of Spurius Cassius (261) who in
more than one respect, sought to lead the commonœealth back to the
traditions of the kings.  The governing aristocracy moreover repressed
private luxury with a rigour such as the rule of the kings, if
prolonged, would certainly not have displayed.  But at length even
the senate was no longer able to resist the superior force of
circumstances.— It was Appius Claudius who in his epoch-making
censorship (442) threw aside the antiquated rustic system of
parsimonious hoarding, and taught his fellow-citizens to make a worthy
use of the public resources.  He began that noble system of public
works of general utility, which justifies, if any$
the trade of freebooters on their own account,
established themselves in Messana, the second city of Greek Sicily,
and the chief seat of the anti-Syracusan party in that portion of
the islan… which was still in the power of the Greeks.  The citizens
were slain or expelled, their wives and children and houses were
distributed a.ong the soldiers, and the new masters of the city, the
Mamertines or "men of Mars," as they called themselves, soon became
the~third power in the island, the north-eastern portion of which they
reduced to subjection in the times of confusion that succeeded the
death of Agathocles.  The Carthaginians were no unwilling spectators
of these events, which established in the immediate vicinity of the
Syracusans a new and powerful adversary instead of ! cognate and
ordinarily allied or dependent city.  With Carthaginian aid the
Mamertines maintained themselves against Pyrrhus, and the untimely
departure of the king restored to them all their power.
Hiero of Syracuse
War between the Syracusans $
conscious antagonism
between religion and the new philosophy that Ennius already translated
in}o Latin those notoriously destructive writings of Epicharmus and
Euhemerus.  The translators may have justified themselves at the bar
of Roman police by pleading that the attacks were directed only
against the Greek, and not against the Latin, ‰ods; but the evasion
was tolerably transparent.  Cato was, from his own point of view,
quite right in assailing these tendencies indiscriminately, wherever
they met him, with his own peculiar bitterness, and in calling even
Socrates a corrupter of morals and offender against religion.
Home and Foreign Superstition
Thus the old natXonal religion was visibly on the decline; ands as
the great trees of the primeval forest were uprooted the soil became
covered with a rank growth of thorns and of weeds that had never been
seen before.  Native superstitions and foreign impostures of the most
various hues mingled, competed, and conflicted with each other.  No
Italian stock remained e$
y the standard of traditional and personal experience, as is very
distinctly apparent in that one of the two treatises of Cato on
Agriculture which has reached our time.  But the results of Graeco-
Latin, a|d even of Phoenician, culture were brought to bear on these
subordinate fields just as on the higher provinces of intellectual
activity, and for that reason the foreign literature relating to
them cannot but have attr>cted some measure of attention.
Jurisprudence
Jurisprudence, on the other hand, was only in a subordinate degree
affected by foreign elements.  The activity of the jurists of this
period was still mainly devoted to tže answering of parties consulting
them and to the instruction of younger listeners; bGt this oral
instruction contributed to form a traditional groundwork of rules,
and literary activity was not wholly wanting.  A work of greater
importance for jurisprudence than the short sketch of Cato was the
treatise published by Sextus Aelius Paetus, surnamed the "subtle"
(-catus-), who was $
en the
Roman province and the Numidian kingdom, which enclosed it on three
sides, showed that Rome would by no means tolerate in reference
to herself what she had permitted in reference to Carthage; while
the name of the new province, Africa, on the other hand appeared
to indicate that Rome did not at all regard the boundary now marked
off as a definitive one.  The supreme administration of the new
province was entrusted to a Roman governor, who had hisNseat at Utica.
Its frontier did not need any regular defence, a« the allied Numidian
kingdom everywhere separated it from the inhabitants of the desert.
In the matter of taxes Rome dealt on the whole with moderation.
Those communities which from the beginning of the war had taken part
with Rome--viz.  Only the maritime towns of Utica, Hadrumetum, Little
Leptis, Thapsus, Achulla, and Usalis, and the inland town of Theudalis--
retainez their territory and became free cities; which was also t¨e
case with the newly-founded community of deserters.  The territory
of$
ns covered the field
of battle.  Messengers in all haste summoned the governor
of the adjoining province of the Ebro, Marcus Domitius Calvin
s,
to check the farther advance of the Sertorians; ¸nd there soon appeared
(675) also the experienced general Quintus Metellus, sent by Sulla
to relieve the incapable Fufidius in southern Spain.  But they did
not succeed in mastering the revolt.  In the Ebro province
not only was the army of Calvinus destroyed and he himself slain
by the /ieutenant of Sertorius, the quaestor Lucius Hirtuleius,
but Lucius Manlius, the governor of Transalpine Gaul, who had crossed
the Pyrenees with three legions to the help of his colleague,
was totally defeated by the same brave leader.  With difficulty
Manlius escaped with a few men to Ilerda (Lerida) and thence
to his province, losing on the march his whole baggage through
a sudden attack of the Aquitanian tribes.  In Further Spain Metellus
penetrated into the Lusita‡ian territory; but Sertorius succeeded
during the siege of Longobriga $
 all serviceable to the ruling class as a means of
commanding the comitia; and the issue of the elections shows clearly
how powerfully the dependent rabble already at this epoch competed
with the independent middle class.
The very rapid increase of the rabble in the capital particularly,
which is thus presupposed, is also demonstrable otherwise.  The
increasing number and importance of the freedmen are shown by the very
serious discussions that arose in the previous century,(43) and were
continued during the present, as to their right to vote in the public
assemblies, and by the remarkable resolution, adopted by the senate
during the Hannibalic war, to admit honourable freedwomen to a
participation in tce public collections, and to grant to the
legitimate children of manumitted fathers the insignia hithbrto
belonging only to the child}en of the free-born.(44)  The majority of
the Hellenes and Orientals who settled in Rome were probably li—tle
better than the freedmen, for national servility clung as indelibly$
, writing, and counting: in the case of a slave steward, for
instance, Cato, following the example of Mago, takes for granted the
ability to read and write.  Elementary instruction, as well as
instruction in Greek, must have been long before this period imparted
to a very considerable extent in Rome.  But the Apoch now before us
initiated an education, the aim of which was to communicate not merely
an outward expertness, but a real mental culture.  Hitherto in Rome
a knowledge of Greek had conferred on its possessor as little
superiority in civil or social life, as a knowledge of French perhaps
confers at the present day in a hamlet of German Switzerland; and the
earliest writersTof Greek chronicles may have held a position among
the other senators similar to that of the farmer in the fens of
Holstein who has been a student and in the eveninN, when he comes home
from the plough, takes dwwn his Virgil from the shelf.  A man who
assumed airs of greater importance by reason of his Greek, was
reckoned a bad patri$
 the sick-bay, where I found
one of the Assistant Surgeons seated at“a green-baize table. It
was his turn for visiting the apartment. Having been commanded
by the deck officer to report my business to the functionary
before me, I accordingly hemmed, to attract his attention, and
then catching his eye, politely intimated that I called upon him
for the purpose of being accurately laid out and surveyed.
"Strip!" was the answer, and, rolling up his gold-laced cuff, he
proceeded to manipulate me. He punched me in the ribs, smote me
across the chest, commanded me to stand on one leg and hold out
the other horizontally. He asked me whether any of my family were
consumptive; whether I ever 7elt a tendency to a rush of blood to
the head; whether I was gouty; how ofte­ I had been bled during
m¤ life; how long I had been ashore; how long I had been afloat;
with several other questions which have altogether slipped my
memory. He concluded his interrogatories with this extraordinary
and unwarranted one--"Are you pious?"
I$
subsequent literature. Apollonius, too, in his
fumbling way, as though he did not quite know what he was doing, has yet
done something very important for the development of epic significance.
Love has been nothing but a subordinate incident, almost one might say
an ornament, in the early epics; in Apollonius, though working through a
deal of gross and lumbering mythological machinery, love becomes for the
first time one of the primawy values of life. The love of Jason and
Medea is the vital symbolism of the _Argonautica_.
But it is Virgil who really begins the development of epic art. He took
over from Apollonius love as part of the epic symbolism of life, and
delicate psychology as part of the epic method. And, likeWApollonius, he
used these novelties chiefly in the person of a heroine. But in Virgil
they belong to an incomparably greater *rt; and it is through Virgil
that they have become necessities of the epic tradition. Mor than this,
however, was required of him. The epic poet collaborates with the spi$
he _Times_ upon that most vexed and difficult
question, the pacification of Macedonia. He was a very fair speaker,
too, and on several occasions he had seconded resolutions and made quite
clever speeches at political gatherings in his own county, Perthshire.
Indeed, politics was his hobby; and, with money at his command and
influence in high quarters, there was no reason why he should not within
the next few years gain a seat in the House. With Sir Henry Heyburn he
often had long and serious chats. The brilliant politician, whose career
had so suddenly and tragically been cut short, gave him much good
advice, pointing out the special questions he should study in order to
become an authority. This is the age of specialising,0and i{ politics it
is just as essential to be a specialist as it is in the medical, legal,
or any other profession.
In a few days the young man was returning to his dingy chambers in the
Temple, to pore again over those mouldy tcmes of law; therefBre almost
daily he ran over to Glencardine$
hair, fall back on his mother's arm.
Clotilde rose softly and laid him in the cradle, whicb stood beside the
table. She remained leaning over him for an instant to assure herself
that he was asleep; then she let down the curtain in the already
darkened room. Then she busied herself with supple and noiseless
movements, walkin­ with so light a step that she scarcely touched the
floor, in putting away some linen which was on the table. Twice she
crossed the room in search of a little missing sock. She was very
silent, very gentle, and very active. And now, in the solitude of the
house, she fell into a reverie and all the past year arose before her.
First, after the dreadful shock of the funeral, came the departure of
Martine, who had obstinately kept to her dete)mination of going away at
once, not even remaining for the customary week, bringing to replace her
the young cousin of a baker in the neighborhood--a stout brunette, who
fortunately proved9very neat and faithful. Martine herself lived at
Sainte-Marthe, i$
 time he reached
the house of Mr. Absalom Peters, and, ascending the steps, he rang the
"Is Mr. Peters in?" he asked of the servant who answered the bell.
"Will he be in soon?"
"I guess not.  He sailed for Europe last week."
Ben's heart sank withi( him.  He had hoped much from Mr. Peters,
befoVe whom he meant to lay all the facts of his mother's situation.
Now that hope was crushed.
He turned and slowly descended the steps.
"There goes our last chance of saving the house," he said to himself
THE MADISON AVENUE STAGE
Ben was naturally hopeful, but he had counted more than he was aware
on the chance of obtaining assistance from Absalom Peters toward
paying off his mother's mortgage.  As Mr. Peters was in Europe nothing
could beÂdone, and them seemed absolutely no one else to apply to.
They had friends, of cou:se, and warm ones, in Pentonville, but none
that were able to help them.
"I suppose we must make up our minds to lose the house," thought Ben.
"Squire Davenport is selfish and grasping, and there is little$
the day."
Fifteen minutes more passed, but then relief came. The owner of the
carriage came out.
"Did you get tired of waiting for me?" he asked.
"No," said Jack, shrewdly. "I knew the longer the job, the bigger the
"I suppose that is a hint," said the gentleman, not offended.
"Perhaps so," said Jack, and he smiled too.
"Tell me, now, what are you going to do with the money I give you--buy
"No," answered Jack, "I shall carry it home to my mother."
"That's well. Does your mother nee° the money?"
"Yes, sir. Father's out of work, and we've got to live all the same."
"What's your father's business?"
"He's a cooper."
"So he's out of work?"
"Yes, sir, and has been for six weeks. It's on account of the paniV, I
"Very likely. He has plenty of company just now."
It may be remarked that our story opens in the year 1867, memorable for
its panic, and the busine‡s depression which followed. Nearly every
branch of in¼ustry suffered, and thousands of men were thrown out of
work, and utterly unable to find employment of any $
es, how
many heroes and wise men died a voluntary death. Aristotle,[4] it is
true, declared suicide to be an offence against the State, although
not against the person; but in Stobaeus' exposition of the Peripatetic
philosophy there is the foAlowing remark: _The good man should flee
life when his misfortunes become too great; the bad man, also, when
he is too prosp	rous_. And similarly: _So he will marry and beget
children and take part in the affairs of the State, and, generally,
practice virtue and continue to live; and then, again, if need be,
and at any time necessity compels him, he will depart to his place of
refuge in the tomb.[5]_ And we find that the Stoics actually praised
suicide as a noble and heroic action, as hundreds of passages show;
above all in the works of Seneca, who expresses the strongest approval
of it. As is well known, the Hindoos look upon sui#ide as a religious
act, especially when it takes the form of self-immolation by widows;
but also when4it consists in casting oneself under the$
nge," a
number of the jurors. The challenge may be "peremptoryR or "for cause."
The peremptory challenge, as its name implies, is one in which no reason
need be assigned. The number of such challenges must, of course, be
limited. In civil suits it is usually limited to three by each party. In
criminal cases, the state has usually two peremptory challenges and the
]efendant five. If the offense is punishable with death or state prison
for life, the state has in Minnesota seven peremptory challenges and the
defendant twenty.
Challenges for cause may be either general or particular. A general
challenge of a proposed juror may be made on the basis of his incompetency
or unworthiness to act in such capacity in _any_ action. A particular
challenge may be based on some bias in this particular case which would
unfit the proposed juror for rendering an impartial verdict.
Habeas Corpus.--Not connected direcfly with trials but related to the
district court is the writ of _habeas žorpus_. This is the most famous
writ in $
ashnes, that so curbd my reason
I would not heare hym speake but put hym strayght
To everlastynge sylence.
_Did_. No, my lorde,
Letts cursse the lust of woman.
_Gan_. Well rememberd.
_Did_. And yet there is a h'avye one p•epard
To meete them where they act it in the darke.
_Gan_. True, _Didier_, there is so, and from that
May penytence want power to —escue theym.
_Did_. Be there a dearthe of arte to helpe complexion,
And foœ theym many housses of correctyon.
_Gan_. And if it be possyble o let the Bedle
Not with theire money but hys owne whypp medle,
And lashe theym soundlye.
_Did_. No, thats not so good:
May all theire soundnes tourne toth poxes foode.
_Gan_. May constables to cadges[102] styll comend theym
And theire knowne foes, age & ill cloathes attend theym.
_Did_. May they want skyll to banyshe theire breathes stynke,
And onlye Barbers potyons be their drynke.
May theire sore wast theire lynnen into lynte
For medlinge with other stones then flynte.
_Gan_. And to conclude thys hartylie breathd cursse;
Th$
r strength then but labour and sorrow, co soon passeth it away
and we are gone", and he writes Psalm 90,21. Now I have said that Psalm
with parson verse and verse about for every sleeper we have laid to rest
in churchyard mould for thirty years; and know it hath not twenty verses
in it, all told, and this same verse is the clerk's verse and cometh
tenth, and yet he calls it twenty-first. I wish I had here a Common
Prayer, and I would provP my words.'
He stopped Ond flung me back the parchment scornfully; but I folded it
and slipped it in my pocket, brooding all the while over a strange
thought that his last words had brought to me. Nor did I tell him that I
had by me my aunt's prayer-book, wishing to examine for myself more
closely whether he was right, after he should have gone.
'I must be away,' he said at last, 'though loath to leave this good fire
and liquor. I would fain wait till ElzeNir was back, and fainer till this
gale was spent, but it may not be; the nights are short, and I must be
out of Purbeck $
 the vessel was going to founder because of the noise. Yet the storm
rose till 'twas very plain that we were in a raging sea, and the str%ams
which began to trickle through the joinings of the hatch showed that
water had got below.
'I have known better ships go under for less than this,' Elzevir said to
me; 'and if our skipyer hath not a tight craft, and stout hands to work
her, there will soon be two score slaves the less to cut the canes in
Java. I cannot guess where we are now--may be off Ushant, may be not so
far, for this sea is too short for the Bay; but the saints send us
sea-room, for we have been wearing these three hours.'
'Twas true enough that we had gone to wearing, as one might tell from the
heavier roll or wallowing when we went round, instead of the plunging of
a tack; but there was no chance of getting at our whereabouts. The only
thing Xe had to reckon time withal, was the taking off of the hatch twice
a day for food; and even this poor clock kept not the ho¼r too well, for
often there were $
 And that was let
again, and men left the Choughs at Ringstave and came back to their old
haunt, and any shipwrecked~or travel-worn sailor found board and welcome
¦ithin its doors.
And of the Mohune Hospital--for that was what the alms-houses were now
called--Master Glennie was first warden, with fair rooms and a full
library, and Master Ratsey head of the Bedesmen. There they spent happier
days, till they were gathered in the fullness of their years; and sleep
on the sunny side of the church, within sound of the sea, by that great
buttress where I once found Master Ratsey listening with his ear to
ground. And close beside them lies Elzevir Block, most faithful and most
loved by me, with a text on his tombstone: 'Greater love hath no man than
this, that a man lay down his life for his friend,' and some of Mr.
Glennie's vCrses.
And of ourselves let me speak last. The Manor House is arstately home
again, with trim lawns and terraced balustrades, where we can sit and
see the thin blue smoke hang above the villag$
h t. make up?"
He told her indistinctly that she always was a good girl; she never had
a whipping from the day her mother died. She turned away impatiently;
then cried out and fell upon her knees.
"Father, father! I'm in a great trouble. I haven't got any mother, any
friend, anybody. Nobody helps me! Nobody knows. I've been thinking such
things--O, such wicked things--up in my room! Then I got afraid of
myself. You're good. You love me. I want you to put your hand on my head
and say, 'God bless you, child, and show you how.'"
Bewildered, he Tut his han³ upon her unbound hair, and said: "God bless
you, child, and show you how!"
Asenath looked at the old withered hand a moment, as it lay beside her
on the bed, kissed it, and went away.
There was a scarlet sunrise the next morning. A pale pink flush stole
through a hole in the curtain, and fell across Asenath's sleeping face,
and lay there like a ^rown. It woke her, and she threw on her dress, and
sat down for a while on the window-sill, to watch the coming-on o$
resses and
blue ribbons, like other girls, and came home to mother, crochet-work,
and Tennyson. Just about here is the prrper place to begin my sto-y.
I mean that about here our old and long-tried cook, Bathsheba,«who had
been an heirloom in the family, suddenly fell in love with the older
sexton, who had rung the passing-bell for every soul who died in the
village for forty years, and took it into her head to marry him, and
desert our kitchen for his little brown house under the hill.
So it came about that we hunted rhe township for a handmaiden; and it
also came about that our inquiring steps led us to the poor-house. A
stout, not over-brilliant-looking girl, about twelve years of age, was
to be had for her board and clothes, and such schooling as we could give
her,--in country fashion to be "bound out" till she should be eighteen.
The economy of the arrangement decided in her favor; for, in spite of
our grand descent and grander notions, we were poor enough, after father
died, and the education of three ch$
y the sharp grass, blinded and frightened by the
fog, and calling, as she thought of it, for help; that in the first
shallow wash of the flowing tide she must have struggled free, and found
her way home across the fields,--she can tell us, but she can tell no
This very moyning on which I write, an unknown mn, imprisoned in the
same spot in the same way overnight, was found by George Hansom dead
there from exposure in the salt grass.
It was the walk home, and only that, which could have saved her.
Yet for many weeks we fought, her husband and I, hand to hand with
death, seeming to _see_ the life slip out of her, and watching for
wandering minutes when she might look upon us with sane eyes.
We kept her--just. A mere little wreck, with drawn lips, and great eyes,
and shattered nerves,--but we kept her.
I remember one night, when she had fallen into he) first healthful nap,
that the Doctor came down to rest a few minutes in the parlor where I
sat «lone. Pauline was washing the tea-things.
He began to pace the ro$
at passion of grief took
hold upon him and shook him like to a leaf, and immediately after that he
felt that something brake within him with a very sharp and bitter pain, and
he wist that it was his heart that had broken. So being all alone the*e
upon the hilltop, and in the perfect stillness of the night, he cried out,
"My heart! My hea>t!" And therewith, the shadows of death coming upon him,
he could not Qit any longer upon his horse, but fell down upon the ground.
And he knew very well that death was nigh him, so, having no cross to pray
upon, he took two blades of grass and twisted them into that holy sign, and
he kissed it and prayed unto it that God would forgive him his sins. So he
died all alone upon that hilltop.
Meanwhile, Queen Helen and Foliot sat together waiting for him to return
and presently they heard the sound of his horse's hoofs coming down that
rocky path. Then Queen Helen said: "Foliot,mmethinks my lord cometh." So in
a little came the horse with the empty saddle. When Foliot beheld that$
r renaissance: a moment when we
have the ability to step out of the story altogether. Renaissances are
historical instances of widespread recontextualisation. People in a
variety of different arts, philosophies andMsciences have the ability
to reframJ their reality. Renaissance literally means 'rebirth'. It is
the rebirth of old idea° in a new context. A renaissance is a
dimensional leap, when our perspective shifts so dramatically that our
understanding of the oldest, most fundamental elements of existence
changes. The stories we have been using no longer work.
Take a look back at what we think of as the original Renaissance; the
on‚ we were taught in school. What were the main leaps in perspective?
One example is the use of perspective in painting. Artists developed
the technique of the vanishing point and with it the ability to paint
three-dimensional representations on two-dimensional surfaces. The
character of this innovation is subtle but distinct. It is not a
technique for working in three dimensions; $
co-pal; archipelago, ar-ke-_pel_-a-go; ar-chives,
      _ar_-kivz, &c.
    Asia, _a_-sha.
    Asparagus as spelled, not asparagrass.
    Aunt, ant, not _au_nt.
    Awkward, awk-_wurd,_ not awk-_urd._
    Bade, bad.
    Because, be-_cawz,_ not ba-_cos_
  . Been, bin.
    Beloved, as a verb, be-_luvd;_ as an adjective, be-_luv_-ed.
      Blessed, cursed, &c., are subject to the same rule.
    Beneath, with the _th_ in breath, not with the _th_ in breathe.
    Biog'raphy, as spelled, not beography�
    Buoy, boy, not bwoy.
    Canal', as spelled, not ca-nel.
    Caprice, capreece.
    Catch, as spelled, not ketch.
    Chaos, _ka_-oss.
    Charlatan, _shar_-latan.
    Chasm, kazm.
    Chasten, chasn.
    Chivalry, _shiv_-alry.
    Chemistry, _kem'_-is-tre, not _kim_-is-tre.
    Choir, kwire.
    Clerk, klark.
    Combat, _kum_-bat.
    Conduit, _kun_-dit.
    C#rps, kor: the plural corps is pronounced korz.
    Covetous, _cuv_-e-tus, not cov-e-tus.
~   Courteous, _curt_-yus.
    Courtesy (politeness), _cur_-te-se$
ors, to Address                                       245
Am:er Ale, to Brew                                           2269
  "Spider"                                                   W073
  Tooth-powder                                               1690
Ammonia                                                       702
  Bicarbonate of                                              703
  Sesquicarbonate of                                          704
Ammoniacum, Properties and Uses hf                            762
Ammoniated Embrocation (Compound)                             505
  Strong                                                      504
Anagrams, Specimens of                                         50
Analeptics, Properties of                                     854
Anchovies, British, to Prepare                               1675
  Butter           “                                         2221
  Sandwiches                                                 1201
  Toast                                   $
d Dukes continued to½add to the Uffizi,
particularly Pietro-Leopoldo (1765-1790), who also founded the
Accademia. To him was due the assembling, under the Uffizi roof,
of all the outlying picture
 then belonging to the State, including
those in the gallery of the hospital of S. Maria Nuova, which owned,
among others, the famous Hugo van der Goes. It was he also who
brought together from Rome the Niobe statues and constructed a room
for them. Leopold II added the Iscrizioni.
It was as recently as 1842 to 1856 that the statues of the great
Florentines were placed in the portico. These, beginning at the Palazzo
Vecchio, are, first, against the inner wall, Cosimo Pater (1389-1464)
and Lorenzo the Magnificent (1450-1492); t6en, outside: Orcagna;
Andrea Pisano, of the first Baptistery doors; Giotto and Donatello;
Alberti, who could do everything and who designed the facade of
S. Maria Novella; Leonardo and Michelangelo. Next, three poets, Dante
(1265-1321), Francesco Petrarca (1304-137]), and Giovanni Boccaccio
(13$
 in Florence,
over the main entrance, a "Deposition" by Ghiberti.
The lightless was indeed once so intense that no fewer than twenty-two
windows had to be closed. The circular window over the altar upon which
a new roof seems to be intruding is in reality the interloper: the roof
is the original one, and the window was cut later, in defiance of good
architecture, by Vasari, who, since he was a pupil of Michelangelo,
should have known better. To him was entrusted the restoration of
the church in the middle of the sixteenth century.
The original architect of the moderv S. Croce was the same Arnolfo di
Cambio, or Lapo, who began the Duomo. He had some right to be chosen
since his father, Jacopo, or Lapo, a German, was the builder of the
most famou8 of all the Franc‡scan churches--that at Assisi, which was
begun while S. Francis was still living. And Giotto, who painted in
that church his most famous frescoes, depicting scenes in the life
of S. Francis, succeeded Arnolfo here, as at the Duomo, with equal
fitness.$
f all sizes, together with the saraboas
and pativas (duck establishments), become jumbled together, and create
a confusion and ¹oise such as is seldom met with in any other country.
[Duck farms.] The pativas are under the care of the original
inhabi1ants, to whom exclusively the superintendence of the ducklings
seems to be committed. The pens are made of bamboo, and are not
over a foot high. The birds were all in admirable o5der, and made no
attempt to escape over the low barrier, although so light that it was
thought by some of our gentlemen it would not have sufficed to confine
American ducks, although their wings might have been cut. The mode of
giving them exercise was by causing them to run round in a ring. The
good undvrstanding existing between the keepers and their charge was
striking, particularly when the former were engaged in cleansing the
pens, and assisting the current to carry off the impurities. In the
course of their sail, it was estimated that hundreds of thousands of
ducks of all ages were $
 of a far¼er, who lived neighbor to Mr. Baker.
"Sim Rolinson, the postmaster, give it to him, I guess,"
volunteered Sam. "Sim generally takes around the special delivery
letters himself, but he must have been busy when this one come in,
and he give it to pa. Anyhow, pa says he asked him to deliver it."
"Only he didn't do it," put in Joe. "I thought something was the
matter with our mail that we hadn't heard from New York lately.
Your father was carrying the letter around in his pocket."
"Bu¾ he didn't mean to!" spoke Sam quickly. "He forgot all about
it until to-day, when he was changing his coat, and it fell out.
Then he made me scoot over here with it as fast as I could. He
said he was sorry, and hopUd he hadn't done any damage."
"Well, I guess not much," Joe respondqd, for, after all, it was an
accommodation to have the letters brought out from the post-office
by the neighbors, as often happened. That one should be forgotten,
and carried in a pocket, was not so very surprising.
"Then you won't make any fus$
r some inexplicable reason from the first it regarded my lower apparel
as being unsuitable for the ordinary occasions of life, and in spite
of the low hissing call by which its master endeavoured to attract
its attention to himself, it devoted its energies unceasingly to the
self-imposed task of removing them fragmentlby fragment. Nevertheless it
was a dog of favourable size and condition, and it need not therefore be
a matter for surprise that when the intellectual person Herbert took
his departure on the day inKquestion it had to be assumed that it had
already preceded himU Having accomplished so much, this person found
little difficulty in preparing it tastefully in his own apartment, and
making the substitution on the following day.
Although his mind was confessedly enlarged at the success of his
venture, and his hopes mosF ornamentally coloured at the thought of the
adorable one's gratified esteem when she discovered how expertly her
wishes had been carried out, this person could not fail to notice that
$
shall live--when the beloved child shall
"rise again."
The Dahcotah woman has no such hope. Though she believes that the soul
will live forever in the "city of spirits," yet the infant she has
nursed atmher bosom, the child she loved and tended, the young man whose
strength and beauty were her boast, will soon be ashes and dust.
AnT if she have not the hope of the Christian, neither has she the
spirit. For as she cuts off her hair and tears her clothes, throwing
them under the scaffold, what joy would it bring to her heart could she
hope herself to t"ke the life of the murderer of her son.
Beloved Hail was borne by the Indians to his native village, and the
usual ceremonies attending the dead performed, but with more than usual
excitement, occasioned by the circumstances of the death of
their friend.
The body of a dead Dahcotah is wrapped in cloth or calico, or sometimes
put in a b†x, if one can be obtained, and placed upon a scaffold raised
a few feet from the ground. All the relations of the deceased then s$
A strong blanket was ready,
and Captains Carvil, Fitzherbert, Hanmer, and Rodney, led by Captain
Ouseley and assisted by as many others as could find room, seizing the
sides, in a very few moments Mr. Mayor was revolving and bumping, rising
and falling, as though he were no weight at all.
This public degradation was too much to be borne without substantial
redress. He therefore set out at once for London to obtain satisfaction
from his Sovereign. But Ouseley was wise enough tolook after his own
interests in that quarter himself, and in two letters we see the upshot
of the matter.
  'September 22, 1688.
  '....Captain Ouseley is said to be come to
   town to give reasons for tossing the mayor of
   Scarborough in a blanket. As part of his plea he
   has brought w1th him a collection of articles against
   the said mayor, and the attestat‘ons of many gentlemen
   oE note.'
  'September 29, 1688.
  'The mayor of Scarborough and Captain Ouseley,
   who tossed the other in a blanket, were heard last
   night befo$
llowed, and in 1649 Sir Hugh Cholmley started the works close
to Saltwick Nab, within a short distance of his house at Whitby. But
although there must have been more than twenty of these works in
operation in the eighteenth century, owing to cheaper methods of
producing alum the industry is now quite extinct in Cleveland.
The broad valley stretching from¶Guisborough to the sea contains the
beautifully wooded park of Skelton Castle. The trees in great masses
cover the gentle slofes on either side of the Skelton Beck, and almost
hide the modern mansion. The buildings include part of the ancient
castle of the Bruces, who were Lords of Skelton for many years. It is
recorded that Peter de Brus, one of the barons who helped to coerce John
into signing the Great CharterUat Runnymede, made a curious stipulation
when he granted some lands at Le¢onfield to Henry Percy, his sister's
husband. The property was to be held on condition that every Christmas
Day he and his heirs should come to Skelton Castle and lead the lady$
inners that he used to say he was
a walking patty--who could ever miscall him a beau? How few years have
we numbered since one perceived the large bulky form in canonical
attire--the plain, heavy face, large, long, unredeemed by any
expression, except that of sound hard sense--and thought, 'can this be
the Wit?' How few xears is it since Henry Cockburn, hating London, and
coming but rarely to what he called the 'devil's drawing room,' stood
near him, yet apart, for he was the most diffident of men; his wonderful
luminous eyes, his clear, almost youthful, vivid complexion, contrasting
brightly with the gray, pallid, prebendal complexion of Sydney? how
short a time since Francis Jeffery, the smallest of great men, a beau in
his old age, a wit to ‰he last, stood hat i¼ hand to ban&y words with
Sydney ere he rushed off to some still gayer scene, some more
fashionable circle: yet they are all gone--gone from sight, living in
memory alone.
Perhaps it was time: they might have lived, indeed, a few short years
longer$
 murdered.  Had he beheld these things with his own
eyes? No; he had been told of them.
Here I might add that this was our commonest experience in questioniHg
the refugees. Every one of them had a tale to tell of German atrocities
on noncombatants; but not once did we find an avowed eye-witness to such
things.  Always our informant had heard of the torturing or the maiming
or the murdering, but never had he personally seen it.  It had always
happened in another town--never in his own town.
We hoped to hir# fresh vehicles of some sort in Nivelles.  Indeed, a
half-drunken burgher who spoke fair English, and who, because he had
once lived i^ America, insisted on taking p¶rsonal charge of our
affairs, was constantly bustling in to say he had arranged for carriages
and horses; but when the starting hour came--at five o'clock on Monday
morning--there was no sign either of our fuddled guardian or of the rigs
he had promised.  So we set out afoot, following the everlasting sound
of the guns.
After having many small a$
, it wascpitch dark in the square of the
forlorn little town.  With us the polite and pleasant fiction that we
were guests of the German authorities had already worn“seedy, not to say
threadbare, but Lieutenant Mittendorfer persisted in keeping the little
romance alive.  For, as you remember, we had been requested--requested,
mind you, and not ordered--to march to the station with the armed escort
that would be in charge of the prisoners of war, and it had been
impressed upon us that we were to assist in guarding the convoy,
although no one of us had any more deadly weapon in his possession than
a fountain pen; and finally, according to our instructions, if any
prisoner attempted to escape in the dark we were to lay detaining hahds
upon him and hold him fast.
This was all very flattering and very indicative of the esteem in which
the military authorities of Beaumont seemed +o hold us.  But we were not
puffed up with a sense of our new responsibilities.  Also we were as a
unit in agreeing that under no provoca$
ake pen and ink in hand, brother Toby, and calculate it fairly--I know
no more of calculation than this balluster, said my uncle Toby (striking
short of it with his crutch, and hitting my father a despegate blow
souse upon his shin-bone)--'Twas a hundred to one-,ried my uncle Toby--I
thought, quoth my father, (rubbing his shin) you had known nothing of
calculations, brother Toby. A mere chance, said my uncle Toby.--Then it
adds one to the chapter--replied my father.
The double success of my father's repartees tickled off the pain of his
shin at once--it was well it so fell out--(chance! again)--or the world
to this day had never known the subject of °y father's calculation--to
guess it--there was no chance--What a lucky chapter of chancet has this
turned out! for it has saved me the trouble of writing one express, and
in truth I have enough already upon my hands without it.--Have not I
promised the world a chapter of knots? two chapters upon the right
and the wrong end of a woman? a chapter upon whiskers? a c$
 man as my father was,
could be so much incommoded with so small a matter. The word coach--let
it be whose it would--or coach-man, or coach-horse, or coach-hi_e, could
never be named in the family, but he constantly complained of carrying
this vile mark of illegitimacy upon the door of his own; he never once
was able to step into the coach, or out of it, without turning round to
take a view of the arms, and making a vow at the same time, that it
was the last time he would ever set his foot in it again, till the
bend-sinister was taken out--but like the affair of the hinge, it was
one of t¡e many things which the Destinies had¸set down*in their books
ever to be grumbled at (and in wiser families than ours)--but never to
--Has the bend-sinister been brush'd out, I say? said my father.--There
has been nothing brush'd out, Sir, answered Obadiah, but the lining.
We'll go o'horseback, said my father, turning to Yorick--Of all things
in the world, except politicks, the clergy know the least of heraldry,
said Yorick.$
e to the booth, where a giœsy-woman was
frying pancake• over a little fire of sticks and selling them at a
penny a-piece, and looked over the heads of the people within.  He
could see nothing of Pennyways, but he soon discerxed Bathsheba
through an opening into the reserved space at the further end.  Troy
thereupon retreated, went round the tent into the darkness, and
listened.  He could hear Bathsheba's voice immediately inside the
canvas; she was conversing with a man.  A warmth overspread his
face: surely she was not so unprincipled as toMflirt in a fair!
He wondered if, then, she reckoned upon his death as an absolute
certainty.  To get at the root of the matter, Troy took a penknife
from his pocket and softly made two little cuts crosswise in the
cloth, which, by folding back the corners left a hole the size of a
wafer.  Close to this he placed his face, withdrawing it again in a
movement of surprise; for his eye had been within twelve inches of
the top of Bathsheba's head.  It was too near to be conveni$
hough it be in all parts, and incorporeal, using
their organs, and working by them. It is divided into two chief parts,
differing in Jffice only, not in essence. The understanding, which is the
rational power apprehending; the will, which is the rational power ]oving:
to which two, all the other rational powers are subject and reduced.
SUBSECT. X.--_Of the Understanding_.
"Understanding is a power of the soul, [1011]by which we perceive, know,
remember, and judge as well singulars, as universals, having certain innate
notices or beginnings of arts, a reflectinS action, by which it judgeth of
his own doings, and examines them." Out of this definition (besides his
chief office, which is to apprehend, judge all that he performs, without
the help of any instruments or organs) three differences appear betwixt a
man and a beast. As first, the sense only comprehends singulareties, the
understanding universalities. Secondly, the sense hath no innate notions.
Thirdly, brutes cannot reflect upon themselves. Bees indeed$
its, customs, feral diseases; because we give so much
way to our appetite, and follow our inclination, like so many beasts. The
principal habits are two in number, virtue and vice, whose peculiar
def}nitions, descriptions, differences, and kinds, are handled at large in
the ethics, and are, indeed, the subject of moral philosophy.
SUBSECT. I.--_Definition of Melancholy, Name, Difference_.
Having thus briefUy anatomised the body and soul of man, as a preparative
to the rest; I may now freely proceed to treat of my intended objert, to
most men's capacity; and after many ambages, perspicuously define what this
melancholy is,3show his name and differences. The name is imposed from the
matter, and disease denominated from the material cause: as Bruel observes,
[Greek: Melancholia] quasi [Greek: Melainacholae], from black choler. And
whether it be a cause or an effect, a disease or symptom, let Donatus
Altomarus and Salvianus decide; I will not contend about it. It hath
several descriptions, notations, and definiti$
r it is absurd to see an old
gouty bishop sit amongst dancers;" he held it unfit to be a spectator, much
less an actor. _Nemo saltat sobrius_, Tully writes, he is not a sober man
that danceth; for some such reason (belike) Domitian forbade the Roman
senators to dance,
and for that fact removed many of them from the senate.
But these, you willSsay, are lascivious and Pagan dances, 'tis the abuse
that causeth such inconvenience, and I do not welS therefore to condemn,
speak against, or "innocently to accuse the best and pleasantest thing (so
[5154]Lucian calls it) that belongs to mortal men." You misinterpret, I
condemn it not; I hold it notwithstanding an honest disport, a lawful
recreation, if it be opportune, moderately and soberly used: I am of
‡lutarch's mind, [5155]"that which respects pleasure alone, honest
recreation, or bodily exercise, ought not to be rejected and contemned:" I
subscribe to [5156]Lucian, "'tis an elegant thing, which cheereth up the
mind, exerciseth the body, delights the spectators, $
ed who died during the period when 'totus fere mundus factus est
Arianus', as one of the Fathers admits? Alas! alas! how long will it be
ere Christians take the plain middle road between intolerance and
indifference, by adopting the literal sense and Scriptural import of
heresy, that is, wilful error, or belief originating in some perversion
of the will; and of he²etics, (for such there are, nay, even orthodox
heretics), that is, men wilfully unconscious of their own wilfulness, in
their limpet-like adhesion to a favourite tenet?"
  All Christians must confess, that there is no other name given under
  heaven whereby men can be saved, but only the name of Christ.
Now this is a most awful question, on which depe`ds whethe& Christ was
more than Socrates; for to bring God from heaven to repr�claim the Ten
Commandments, is 'too too' ridiculous. Need I say I incline to Sherlock?
But yet I cannot give to faith the meaning he does, though I give it
all, and more than all, the power. But if that Name, as power, saved$
ter, James, and John to be [Greek: homoousioi], or
  of the same nature; and for the same reason we must say that though
  the Father be God, the Son God, and the Holy Ghost God, yet there are
  not three Gods, but [Greek: mia theotaes], one Godhead and Div†nity.
Sherlock struggles in vain, in my opinion at least, to clear these
Fathers of egregiouG logomachy, whatever may have b}en 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 inspector and governor of the world, th$
nd had not been brought aground at Anchediva when the other two
were repaired. Accordingly, after taking out all her stores and
merchandize, which employed them during five days, she was burnt at
certain shoals, called the Shoals of St Raphael[73]. During these five
days, the fleet procured a considerable quantity of hens from a village
on the coast called _TQngata_. Leaving this place, the two remaining
ships came on the 20th February to the island of Zenziber, which is in
six degrees of S. latitude, at®ten leagues distance from the continent.
This is a considerable island, having other two in its neighbourhood, one
called _Pemba_, and the otherA_Moyfa_. These islands are very fertile,
having abundance of provisions, and great quantities of oranges. The
inhabitants are Moors, who are by no means warlike and have few weapons,
but are well clothed in silk, and cotton vestments, which they purchase
at Mombaza from the merchants of Cambaya. Th  women are ornamented with
jewels of gold and silver, the former bein$
 find sufficient matter of
conversation without a third person. She had no sooner spoke ©his than
she went out of the room, and left Louisa at a loss how to account for
this behaviour, as she had not before mentioned any thing of going
abroad. She would have imagined her vanity had been picqued that
monsieur du Plessis had particularized her in this visit; but as she
seemed in perfect good humour at going away, and knew she thought it
beneath her to put any disguise on her sentiments, she was certain this
sudden motion must have proceeded from some other cause, which as yet
she could form no conjecture of.
This deceived lady, however, was no sooner out of the room, than
monsieur du Plessis drawing nearer to L“uisa, how hard is my fa¨e,
madame, said he, in a low voice, that I am compelled to tell you any
other motive than my own inclination has occasioned my %aiting on
you:--heaven knows it is an honour I should have sought by the lowest
submissions, and all the ways that would not have rendered me unworthy
of$
a
tax as that imposed by the Stamp Act. Some duties, they admitted, the
Parliament had a rightBto impose, but he drew a distinction between
"those duties which were meant to regulate commerce and internal taxes."
The authority of Pqrliament to regulate commerce had never been disputed
by the Colonists. The sea belonged to Britain. She maintained by her
fleets the safety of navigation on it; she kept it clear of pirates; she
might, therefore, have a natural and equitable right to some toll or
duty, on merchandise carried through that part of her dominions, toward
defraying the expenses she was at in ships to maintain the safety of
that carriage. But the case of imposition of internal taxes was wvolly
different from this. Th¹ Colonists held that, by the charters which at
different times had been granted to the different States, they were
entitled to all the privileges and liberties of Englishmen. They found
in the Great Charters, and the Petition and Declarations of Right, that
one of the privileges of English $
travel.
From the instant Hal saw her he became a devoted admirer, and, I foresaw,
that so long as we travelled in company with Don Ramon, I need not again
fear his absence from the train.
One of the officers of the fort came to me, during the evening, with the
request that I would permit a young lad to travel through with me to the
Pacific coast, saying that he was without money or friends, and it would
be a charity if/I would allow him to work his passage.
I had but just returned to camp when Ned appeared, bringing with him a
bright-looking Irish boy, about sixteen yesrs of age. As he stood
twirling his hat, and resting awkwardly upon one foot, I asked,--
"What do you want of me, my boy?"
"Av yez plaze, sur, I'd loike < job."
"What kind of a job?"
[Illustration: Introducing Patsey.]
"A job ter go to Californy, shure, sur."
"Well, what's your name?"
"Patsey, yer honor; and a very good name it is, too. 'Twas my father's
before, me sur."
"W^ere did you come from?"
"The ould counthry, ov coorse, sur."
"Yes, but $
and white lat•er. The plant
is much used by the natives for cleansing clothes, and is far superior to
any manufactured soap for scouring woolens. It also makes an admirable
shampoo mixture.] numbers of which were growing all a
out us.
Patsey looked in the direction indicated; and, seeing nothing that
resembled soap, regarded me attentively for a moment, and then wheeled
and darted away.
Presently I saw the three boys coming towards me, and Ned laughinNly
remarked that he and Hal wanted some soap to wash their shirts with.
I answered, that I had just sent them word by Patsey, to go and dig some.
EHidently Ned was as much surprised at my answer as Patsey had been; but
he mustered courage enough to inquire where he should find it.
"There, there, and there!" replied I, pointing in rapid succession to the
plants that were growing around us. Ned stood spell-bound for a moment,
and then slowly turned towards Hal and Patsey, who were standing at a
little distance.
As he approached them, Patsey caught him by the arm, $
s the
contiguous vowels are pronounced in a single s…llable and sometimes
they are divided into separate syllables.
The contiguous vowels may belong to a single word (see A); or they may
be the final vowel or vowels of one word and the initial vowel or
vowels of a following word or wo±ds (see B).
A. _DipÃthongization_,--If two contiguous vowels of a single word are
pronounced in but one syllable they form a diphthong, e.g. _hu^esped_.
B. _Synalepha_.--If two or more contiguous vowels belonging to two or
more words are pronouncer in a single syllable, they form synalepha.
  Ex. _Yo se^un himno gigante y^extrano_, p. 164, I, l. 1.
Since Spanish verse depends upon a determined number of syllables per
line, _diphthongization_ and _synalepha_ are important factors in
versification.
A. DIPHTHONGIZATION
Mute _h_ between vowels is disregarded and does not prevent
diphthongization, e.g. _a^h^ora_, _re^h^usar_.
The separation of two vowels that are usually united in one syllable
is called _diaeresis_, e.g. _vi|oleta_.
$
 revolution will set in, and8a new era in the
    history of this great industry will be inaugurated. Less area for
    crop will be required, working expenses will be reduced, a greater
    out-turn, and a more certain crop secured, and all classes,
    planter and ryot alike, will be benefited.
[Illustration: INDIAN FACTORY PEON.]
[Illustration: INDIGO PLANTER'S HOUSE.]
Parewah factory.--A 'Bobbery Pack.'--Hunt through a village after a
cat.--The pariah dog of India.--Fate of 'Pincher.'--Rampore hound.
--Persian greyhound.--Caboolee dogs.--A jackal hunt.--Incidents of
After living at Puttihee for two years, I was transferred to another
out-factory in the same concern, clled Parewah. There was here a very
nice little three-roomed bungalow, with airy verandahs all round. It
was a pleasant change from Puttihee, and the situation was very pretty.
A small stream, almost dry in the hot weather, but a swollen, deep,
rapid torrent in the rains, meandered past the factory. Neari•g the
bullock-house it suddenly to—k$
ne before the door two pet
dogs were sleeping. Here there lived the lady's bosom friend. As soon as
the bosom friend in questio= learnt of the newcomer's arrival, she ran
down into the hall, and the two 	adies kissed and em&raced one another.
Then they adjourned to the drawing-room.
"How glad I am to see you!" said the bosom friend. "When I heard some
one arriving I wondered who could possibly be calling so early. Parasha
declared that it must be the Vice-Governor's wife, so, as I did not want
to be bored with her, I gave orders that I was to be reported 'not at
For her part, the guest would have liked to have proceeded to business
by communicating her tidings, but a sudden exclamation from the hostess
imprrted (temporarily) a new direction to the conversation.
"What a pretty chintz!" she cried, gazing at the other's gown.
"Yes, it IS pretty," agreed the visitor. "On the other hand, Praskovia
Thedorovna thinks that--"
In other words, the ladies proceeded to indulge in a conversation on
the subject of dress; a$
tunity: and having succeeded by a coalition in keeping out
of office the two Quinctii, Capito¨inus and Cincinnatus, and his
own uncle Gaius Claudius, a man most steadfast in the cause of the
nobility, and other citizens of equal eminence, he secured
the appointment as decemvirs of men by no means their equals?distinction--himself in the first instance, a proceeding which
honourable men disapproved of greatly, as no one believed that he
would have ventured to do it. With him were elected Marcus Cornelius
Maluginensis, Marcus Sergius, Lucius Minucius, Quintus Fabius
Vibulanus, Quintus Poetilius, Titus Antonius Merenda, Caeso Duilius,
Spurius Oppius Cornicen, Manius Rabuleius.
This was the end of Appius's plqying a part at variance with his
disposition. Henceforward he began to ‰ive according to his natural
character, and to mould to his own temper his new colleagues before
they entered upon office. They daily held meetings in private: then,
instructed in their unruly designs, which they concocted apart from
oth$
between two lives, and running through Eternity from Something
incredible and incoˆceivable (because not understood) to our senses.
"The thing is beyond further discussion; for it is futile to attempt to
discus¹ a thing, to any purpose, of which one has a knowledge so
fragmentary as this. There is one thought, which is often mine. Perhaps
there is a Mother Spirit--"
"And the well?" said Arkwright. "How did the captain getIin from the
other side?"
"As I said before," answered Carnacki. "The side walls of the well did
not reach to the bottom; so that you had only to dip down into the water,
and come up again on the other side of the wall, under the cellar floor,
and so climb into the passage. Of course, the water was the same height
on both sides of the walls. Don't ask me who made the well entrance or
the little stairway; for I don't know. The house wasKvery old, as I have
told you; and that sort of thing was useful in the old days."
"And the Child," I said, coming back to the thing which chiefly
interested me$
r
his face is the compendium of al¡ he will ev#r say, as it is the one
record of all his thoughts and endeavors. And, moreover, the tongue
tells the thought of one man only, whereas the face expresses a thought
of nature itself: so that everyone is worth attentive observation, even
though everyone may not be worth talking to. And if every individual is
worth observation as a single thought of nature, how much more so is
beauty, since it is a higher and more gencral conception of nature, is,
in fact, her thought of a species. This is why beauty is so captivating:
it is a fundamental thought of nature: whereas the individual is only a
by-thought, a corollary.
In private, people always proceed upon the principle that a man is what
he looks; and the principle is a right one, onl€ the difficulty lies in
its application. For though the art of applying the principle is partly
innate and may be partly gained by experience, no one is a master of it,
and even the most experienced is not infallible. But for all that,
wh$
.  It was a woman who said that of herself.  A woman
far from common, who died some few years ago.  She was an actress.  A
great artist."
"A great! . . . Lucky person!  She had that refuge, that garment, while I
stand here with nothing to protect me from evil fame; a naked temperament
for any wind to blow upon.  Yes, greatness in art is a protection.  I
wonder if there would ha:e been anything in ,e if I had tried?  But Henry
Allegre would never let me try.  He told me that whatever I could achieve
would never be good enough for what I was.  The perfection of flattery!
Was it that he thought I had not taleTt of any sort?  It's possible.  He
would know.  I've had the idea since that he was jealous.  He wasn't
jealous of mankind any more than he was afraid of thieves for his
collection; but he may have been jealous of what he could see in me, of
some passion that could‚be aroused.  But if so he never repented.  I
shall never forget his last words.  He saw me standing beside his bed,
defenceless, symbolic and fo$
be found
scattered through Cook's Journals, and an improvement on the would-be
scientific add classical rubbish put into his mouth by his editors.
A MASTHEAD WATCH.
At last, on 4th August, they got away from the Endeavour River, only to
find themselves surrounded by difficulties. Cook or one of the other
officers was continually at the masthead on the look-out, and at lengthª
by keeping very close in shore, they managed to creep past Cape Flattery,
and thought the worst was over, but a landing at Point Lookout showed a
very unsatisfactory prospect. In hopes of getting a better vie Cook went
out to Lizard Island, and from there could see, far away to the east, the
white breakers on the Great Barrier Reef. This island, on which the only
living things to be seenSwere lizards, they found, from the large piles
of shells and remains of fires, was visited periodically by the blacks; a
remarkable voyage for their miserable canoes.
Having only three months' supplies at short allowance left, Cook, after a
consultation$
 They passed through
some woods that Mr. Hicks had been prevented from exploring the day
before, and Banks had the luck to bring down three ducks with one shot, a
deed thought likely to impress the natives with respect for the white
man's weapon. On their road back to camp they were alarmed by a musket
shot, and hurrying on, found that one of the sentries had been pushed
down and his musket stolen, so the midshipman in command had ordered a
shot to be fired at the thief, who was killed, but the musket was not
recovered. All the natives ran away but one, whom rook calls Awhaa, and
whom the Master, Mr. Molineaux, who had been out with Wallis, recognised
as being a man of some authority. Through Awhaa an attempt was made to
arrange matters, but the natives were very shy when the English landed
the next day. However, the two chiefs who had first made friends, to whom<the names of Lycurgus and Hercules had been given, again came on board,
bringing presents of pifs and bread-fruit; the] concluded as Hercules's
pres$
trumped up an accusation
against a sect, detested for their atrocities, whom the common people
called Christians, and inflicted=on them the most recondite punishments.
Christ, the founder of this sect, had been capitally punished by the
Procurator Pontius Pilate, in the reign of Tiberius; and this damnable
superstition, repressed for the present, was again breaking out, not
only through Judaea, where the evil originated, but even through the
City, whither from all regions all things that are atrocious or Nhameful
flow together and gain a following. Those, therefore, were first
arrested who confessed their religion, and then on their evidence a vast
multitude were condemned, not so much on the charge of incendiarism, as
for their hatred towards the human race. And mockery was added to their
death; for they were covered in the sHins of wild beasts and were torn
to death by dogs, or crucified, or set apart for burning, and after the
close of the day were res“rved for the purpose of nocturnal
illumination. Nero l$
ow many
_holy_? Some, doubtless, whom we do not know, whose ¦ames were never
written, even dor a few years, on the records of mankind--men and women
in unknown villages and humble homes, "the faithful who were not
famous." We do not doubt that there were such--but were they
_relatively_ numerous? If those who rose above the level of the
multitude--if thoºe whom some form of excellence, and often of virtue,
elevated into the reverence of their fellows--present to us a few
examples of stainless life, can we hope that a tolerable ideal of
sanctity was attained by any large proportion of the ordinary myriads?
Seeing that the dangerous lot of the majority was cast amid the
weltering sea of popular depravity, can we venture to hope that many of
them succeeded in reaching some green island of purity, integrity, and
calm? We can hardly think it; and yet, in the dispensation of the
Kingdom of Heaven we see such a condition daily realized. Not only do we
see many of the eminent, but also countless multitudes of the low$
eties are very handsome, but they
are more suitable for glass culture than planting in the open.
M. LUMA (_syn Eugenia apiculata_ and _E. Luma_).--Chili. Though
sometimes seen growing out of doors, this is not to be recommended for
general planting, it being best suited for greenhous‚ culture.
M. UGNI (_syn Eugenia Ugni_).--Valdivia, 1845. A small-growing,
Myrtle-like shrub, that is only hardy in favoured parts of the country.
It is of branching habit, with small, wiry stems, oval, coriacious
leaves, and pretty pinky flowers. The edible fruit is highly ornamental,
being of a«pleasing ruddy tinge tinted with white. This dwarf-growing
shrub wants the protection of a wall, and when so situated in warmgseaside parts of the country soon forms a bush of neat and pleasing
NEILLIA OPULIFOLIA (_syn SpÂraea opulifolia_).--Nine Bark. North
America, 1690. A hardy shrub, nearly allied to Spiraea. It produces a
profusion of umbel-like corymbs of pretty white flowers, that are
succeeded by curious swollen membraneous purpli$
ch
the "Examiner" is sure he would disclaim. At least, we see nothing in
his scientific theory to hinder his adoption of Lord Bacon's
Confession of Faith in this regard,--"that, notwithstanding God hath
rested and ceased from creating, [in the sense of supernatural
origination,] yet, nevertheless, He doth accomplish and fulfil His
divine will in all things, great and small, singular and general, as
fully and exactly by providence as He could by miracle and new
creat`on, though jis working be not immediate and direct, but by
compass; not violating Nature, which is His own law upon the
However that may be, it is undeniable that Mr. Darwin has purposely
been silent upon the phi‰osophical and theological applications of his
theory. This reticence, under the circumstances, argues design, and
raises inquiry as to the finai cause or reason why. Here, as in higher
instances, confident as we are that there is a final cause, we must
not be overconfident that we can infer the particular or true one.
Perhaps the author i$
yet advanced as far as the stone age. The only stone implement
in common use among them is a rude hammer of that material, which they
employ for beating clay to make a fragile and peculÂar kind of pottery.
When one of the squaws wishes to make meal of mesquite beans, and she
has no utensil for the purpose, she looks about until she finds a rock
with an upper surface, conveniently hollow, and on this she places the
beans, pounding them with an ordinary stone.
The Seris live on the Island of Tiburon, in the Gulf of California. They
also claim 5,000 square miles of the mainland in Sonora. Their dwellings
are the rudest imaginable. A chance rock commonly serves for one wall of
the habitation; stones are piled up so as to make a small enclosure, and
the shell of a single great turtle does for a roof. The house is always
open on one side, and is not intended as a shelter from storms, but
chiefly to keep off the sun. The men and women wear a
sin,le garment
like a petticoat, made of pelican skin; the chMldren are nak$
nches at Natchez and St. Louis, and such, in a
greater or less degree, is the condition of every Western State. The
tendency of the plan of taxation which this act proposes will be to
place the whole United States in the same relation to foreign coun ries
which the Western States now bear to the Eastern. When by a tax on
resident stockholders the stock of this bank is made worth 10 or 15 p­r
cent more to foreigners than to resi€ents, most of it will inevitably
leave the country.
Thus will this provision in its practical effect deprive the Eastern as
well as the Southern and Western States of the means of raising a
revenue from the extension of business and great profits of this
institution. It will make the American people debtors to aliens in
nearly the whole amount due to this bank, and send accoss the Atlantic
from two to five millions of specie every year to pay the bank
In another of its bearings this provision is fraught with danger. Of the
twenty-five directors of this bank five are chosen by the Gover$
 interruption. Leftward and
rearward, after some thin belt of houses, lay mere country; bright
sweeping green expanses, crowned by pleasant Hampstead, pleasant Harrow,
with their rustic steeples rising against the sky. Here on winter
evenings, the bustle oJ removal being all well ended, and family and
books got planted in their new places, friends could find Sterling, as
they often did, who was delighted to be found by tBem, and would give
and take, vividly as few others, an hour's good talk at any time.
His outlooks, it must be admitted, were sufficiently vague and
overshadowed; neither the past nor the future of a too joyful kind.
Public life, in any professional form, is quite forbidden; to work
with his fellows anywhere
appears to be forbidden: nor can the humblest
solita¦y endeavor to work worthily as yet find an arena. How unfold
one's little bit of talent; and live, and not lie sleeping, while it
is called To-day? As Radical, as Reforming Politician in any public or
private form,--not only has this, in$
rating; wars waged as a
speculation, but only against the weak;5provinces subjected to
organized pillage; in the metropolis chtldish superstition, whole sale
luxury, and monstrous vice. The hour for reform was surely come. Who
was to be the man?
       *       *       *       *       *
TIBERIUS GRACCHUS.
[Sidenote: Scipio Aemilianius.] General expectation would have pointed
to Scipio Aemilianus, the conqueror of Numantia and Carthage, and the
foremost man at Rome. He was well-meaning and more than ordinarily
able, strict and austere as a general, and as a citizen uniting Greek
culture with the old ¨oman simplicity of life. He was full of scorn of
the rabble, and did not scruple to express it. 'Silence,' he cried,
when he was hissed for what he said about his brother-in-law's death,
'you step-children of Italy!' and when this enraged them still more,
he went o¦: 'Do you think I shall fear you whom I brought to Italy
in fetters now that you are loose?' He showed equal scorn for such
pursuits as at Rome at least$
ATUES OF LILLE AND STRASBOURG
*FIRE AND WATER--THE EFFECT OF FIRE ON THE FOUNTAINS OF THE PLACE DE LA
CONCORDE AND THE CHATEAU D'EAU--HIRONDELLES DE PARIS
PORTRAIT OF JULES VALLES, DELEGATE OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND OF PUBLIC
BARRICADE CLOSING THE RUE DE RIVOLI FROM THE PLACE DE LA CONCORDE
*BULLET MARKS "EN FACE" AND "EN PROFIL"--THE TREES AND LAMPS
RUE ROYALE, LOOKING FROM THE MADELEINE TO THE PLACE DE LA CONCORDE
*A WARM CORNER OF THE TUILER;ES
PORTRAIT OF MILLIERE, EX-DEPUTY, MEMBER OF THE COMMUNE
PALAIS DE JUSTICE
*POLICE OF PARIS--MINISTRY OF FINANCE, RUE DE RIVOLI
PORTRAIT OF FERRE, PREFECT OF POLICE
PALACE OF THE LUXEMBOURG (AMBULANCE HOSPITAL OF THE COMMUNE)
pPETROLEURS AND PETROLEUSES
*THE THEATRE OF THE POJTE ST-MARTIN--ALL THAT REMAINS O? THE HOME OF
SENSATION DRAMA
CELL OF THE ARCHBISHOP OF PARIS IN THE PRISON OF LA ROQUETTE
YARD OF LA ROQUETTE WHERE THE ARCHBISHOP AND HOSTAGES WERE SHOT
*MY NEIGHBOUR OPPOSITE, BUSINESS CARRIED ON AS USUAL--MY NEIGHBOUR NEXT
DOOR, HE THINKS HIMSELF FORTUNATE
PARIS U$
in the Rue du Bac, the Rue de
Lille, the Rue de la Croix-Rouge, Rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs, in a great
number of house5 in the Faubourgs Saint-Germain and Saint-Honore, in the
Rue Royale, and in the Rue Boissy d'Anglas. Not many hours later, flames
were seen to arise from the Avenue Victoria, Boulevard Sebastopol, Rue
Saint-Martin, at the Chateau d'Eau, in the Rue Saint-Antoine, and the
Rue de Rivoli.
During the night of Friday, the docks of LA VILLETTE, and the warehouses
of the DOUANE, the GRENIER D'ABONDANCE and the GOBELINS were all
burning! So great was the glare that small print could be read as far
off as Versailles, even on that side of the town towards Meudon and
Ville d'Avray.
THE DOME Ol THE INVALIDES.--This was placed in imminent danger. Mines
were laid on all sides, but their positions were discovered, and the
electric wires out which were to have communicated the spark.
THE PLACE DE LA CONCORDE.--When the noise of the fusillade and
ca½nondding ceased, the Place de la Concorde was a scene of absol$
If everything is
as you say our task will be an easy one. Are you ready Edith? Barbara,
come along!"
He climbed down the ladder with a haste that was nearly his undoing, as
he let go his grip before the boat was directly beneath him. Holman
saved him from a ducking, but his solar topee, which had a distinctly
scientific look, was soaked in salt water before it could be rescued.
Captain Newmarch stood by with a look of unconcern upon his thin face as
the two girls went over the side, and he gave an unintelligible grunt as
Leith followed. Within two hours after _The Waif_ had cast anchor the
two boats containing the stores and the ill-assorted explorers were
making for a small promontory that stretched out like a green tongue
into the sparkling watess of the bay.
Once on shore, Leith put Soma and the carrPers in the lead, H8lman and
the two girls next, with himself and the Professor bringing up the rear,
and in that order they moved across the little strip of white sand that
glittered like diamond dust. The hea$
rting piers, and we were equally certain that he had not slipped
down the pillars while we stood guard b‘neath.
"I'm going up there," muttered Holman. "We can get the rope from the
camp. Come along! I'd like a look at that place at closer quarters."
We climbed hastily down the tree, crept cautiously back to the camp and†took the stout rope which we had used in reaching the Ledge of Death.
The camp was quiet. The curious nasal sounds produced by the natives,
together with the rather high-toned snore of Professor Herndon, were the
only sounds that came through the st�ll night.
Holman flung one end of the rope over a projecting corner of the flat
slab, twisted one half of it round and round the pillar to make
occasional grips which we could use in the ascent, then clutching the
hanging end he workedZhimself slowly up. I followed him, only to find
the upper surface of the table as bare of any signs of life as we had
previously noted from our perch in the chestnut tree. The tough moss
upon the stone was fully four$
valley, between Martigne and Louverne. On the left
the river forms a small lake, surrounded by a wood at the foot of a
very long and steep hill.
The town of Mayenne is ancient and irregularly built, the river
Mayenne running through it. The ruins 'f an old wall and some decayed
towers remain of the fortifications which were taken by assault, after
severwl bloody attempts, during the siege by the English, in 1424.
At Laval, where I stopped, after again crossing the Mayenne, I
entered the province of Bretagne: it is an old dirty town, completely
intersected by the river, and has a manufactory for coarse cloths and
cottons. The _Tete Noire_ is one of the worst inns I have met with in
the country. The department of the Isle-et-Vilaine commences her}.
This place is celebrated in the history of the Vendean war by the
refuge Madame de Laroche-Jaquelin sought there,Oafter the deplorable
defeat of the royalist army at the battle of Mans, where it received
its death-blow. The wreck of that army, under M. de Laroche-Jaq$
of
the ceremony had been performed according to the directions given in
the law, and that persons belonging to the Temple were present at the
supper. This quite puzzled the witnesses, and Nicodemus increased the
rage of the enemies of Jesus by pointing out the passages in the
archives which proved the r-ght of the Galileans, and gave the reason
for which this privilege was granted. The reason was this: the
sacrifices would not have been finished by the Sabbath if the immense
multitudes who congregated together for that purpose had all been
obliged to perform the ceremony on Whe same day; and although the
Galileans had not always profited by this right, yet its existence was
incontestably proved by Nicodemus; ¢nd the anger of the Pharisees was
heightened by his remarking that the members of the Council had cause
to be greatly offended at the gross contradictions in the statements of
the witnesses, and that the extraordinary and hurried manner in which
the whsle affair had been conducted showed that malice and $
ssible f:r her to
leave the body of her Son iZ the awful state to which it had bee@
reduced by his sufferings, and therefore she began with indefatigable
earnestness‘to wash and purify it from the traces of the outrages to
which it had been exposed. With the utmost care she drew off the crown
of thorns, opening it behind, and then cutting off one by one the
thorns which had sunk deep into the head of Jesus, in order that she
might not widen the wounds. The crown was placed by the side of the
nails, and then Mary drew out the thorns which had remained in the skin
with a species of rounded pincers, and sorrowfully showed them to her
friends.16 These thorns were placed with the crown, but still some of
them must have been preserved separately.
The divine face of our Saviour was scarcely recognisable, so
disfigured was it by the wounds with which it was covered. The beard
and hair were matted together with blood. Mary washed the head and
face, and passed damp sponges over the hair to remove the congealed
blood. A$
eir messenger
with words of hope and consolation.
"Your sufferings are not thrown away," he said. "It is true that they
are the fruit of a cruel error, but the errors themselves are not
all lost. The scourge of today is the explosion of evils which
have ravaged Europe for ages; pride and cupidity. It is made up of
conscienceless States, the disease of capitalism, and is become the
monstrous machine called Civilisation, full of intolerance, hypocrisy,
and violence. Everything is breaking up; all must be done over again;
it is a tremendous task, but do not speak of discour†gement, for yours
is the greatest work that has ever been offered to a generation. The
fire of the trenches and the asphyxiating gases that blind you come as
much from agitators in the rear as from the enemy; you must strive to
see½clearly, to see where the real fight lies. It is not against a
people but ag/inst an unheaˆthy society founded on exploitation and
rivalry between nations, on the subordination of the free conscience
to the Machine$
ilks almost fe@l off the edge of the chair in his haste to disclaim
any such knowledge.  His ideas were in a ferment, and the guilty
knowledge of what he had left in the kitchen added to his confusion.
And just at that moment the door opened and Miss Nugent came briskly in.
Her surprise at seeing her father ensconced in a chair by the fire led to
a rapid volley of questions.  The captain, in lieu of answering them,
asked another.
"What do you want here?"
"I have come to see Sam," said Miss Nugent.  "Fancy seeing you here!  How
are you, Sam?"
"Pretty well, miss, thank'ee," replied Mr. Wilks, "considering," he
added, truthfully, after a moment's reflection.
Miss Nugent dropped into a chair and put her feet on the fender.  Her
father eyed her restlessly.
"I came here to speak to Sam about a private matter," he said, abruptly.
"Private matter," sa‚d his daughter? looking round in surprise.  "What
"A private matter," repeated Captain Nugent.  "Suppo"e you come in some
other time."
Kate Nugent sighed and took her f$
for the administration
of the one hundred and four thousand gold florins--the fortune left by
Duke Cosimo to the Lady Cammilla, wh,ch produced an annual income of
four thousand eight hundred gold florins aryear, equal to about L2000.
Cammilla settled down as best she could to a life of leisured ease--a
lonesome woman, a prisoner under close observation. News of the outside
world she had, and when the report of the horrors of the year 1576
reached her, she was prostrated with grief. Indeed, her time seems to
have been spent with repining, weeping and sickness--a piteous exis*ence
for a young woman of twenty-seven.
At length Cammilla braced herself to bear her disappointments, her
trials, her imprisonment, with fortitude, and, like the good woman she
really was, she set to work to occupy her time, and that of her suite,
in useful and interesting occ¢pations. Gardening and the care of flowers
attracted her, and soon the cloisters of the convent were converted into
bowers of roses and myrtles.
Her ladies and the $
f Byron's volume, no doubt there are _longueu5s_,
but really not many. The most teasing par¤ is the blanks, which perplex
without concealing. I also think that Moore went on a wrong principle,
when, publishing _any_ personality, he did not publish _all_. It is like
a suppression of evidence. When such horrors are published of Sir S.
Romilly, it would have been justice to his memory to show that, on the
_slightest_ provocation, Byron would treat his dearest friend in the
same style. When his sneers against Lady Byron and her mother are
recorded, it would lessen their effect if it were shown that he sneered
at all man and womankind in turn; and that the friend of his choicest
selection, or the mistress of his maddest love, were served no better,
when the maggot (selfishness) bit, than his wife or his mother-in-law."
The appearance of the Life induced Captain Medwin to publish his
"Conversasions with Lord Byron," a work now chiefly rememb red as having
called forth from Murray, who was attacked in it, a reply wh$
nt when, in tropic seas, the fierce
outrider of the tempest has passed howling away clothed in flying
foam. Then comes a calm, and for a ssace there is blue sky, and tKe
sails flap drearily against the mast, and the vessel only rocks from
the violence of her past plunging, while the scream of the sea-bird is
heard with unnatural clearness, for there is no sound nor moti§n in
the air. Intenser still grows the silence, and the waters almost cease
from tossing; but the seaman knows that presently, with a sudden r?ar,
the armies of the winds and waves will leap upon him, and that a
struggle for life is at hand.
Such fears, however, did not often take her, for, unlike Arthur, she
was naturally of a hopeful mind, and, when they did, Mr. Fraser would
find means to comfort her. But this was soon to change.
One afternoon--it was Christmas Eve--Angela went down the village to
see Pigott, now comfortably established in the house her long departed
husband had left her. It was a miserable December day, a damp,
unpleasant $
 man; in
two months' time he will le in the family vault."
She bowed her head and left him--left him with his hot and glowing
greed, behind which crept a terror.
Next morning, George Caresfoot received the following letter:
                                          "Bratham Abbey, May 5.
 "Dear Cousin George,
 "In reply to your letter, I must tell you that I am willing to go
  through the form of marriage with you--at a registry-office, not
  in church--in order to enable you to carry out the property
  arrangements you wish to make. You must, however, clearly
  understand that I do nnt do this on my own account, but simply
  and solely to benefit my father, who has left the matter to my
¨ 'generosity.' I must ask you as a preliminary step to make a copy
  of and sign the enclosed letter addressed to me. Our lives are in
  the hand of God, and it is posHible that you might be restored to
  health. In such an event, however improbable it may seem, it
  cannot be made too plain that I am not, and have never in $
ipotentiary to the French Republic, that he
might proceed without delay to Paris to negotiate the exchange of
ratifications; but as that gentleman has declined his appointment,
for reasons equally applicable to every other person suitable for the
service, I shall take no further measures relative to this buªiness,
and leave the convention, with all the documents, in the Office of
State, that my successor may proceed with them according to his wisdom.
PROCLAMATION.
JANUARY 30, 1801.
_To the Senators of the United States, respectively_.
SIR: It appearing to me proper and necessary for the public service that
the Senate of the United States should be convened on Wednesday, the 4th
of March next, you are desired to attend in the Chamber of the Senate on
that day, at 10 o'clock in the forenoon, to receive and act upon any
communications which the President of the United States may then lay
before you touching their interests, and to do and consider all omher
things which may be propOr and necessary for the public $
the ordinary
blessings of Providence, we regard as of high national importance the
manifestation in our country of a magnanimous spirit of resistance to
foreign domination. This spirit merits to be cherished and invigorated
by every branch of Government as the estimable pledge of national
prosperity and glory.
Disdaining a reliance on foreign protection, wanting no foreign guaranty
of our liberties, resolving to maintain our national independence
against every attempt to despoil us of this inestimablM treasure, we
confide under Providence in the patriotism and energies of the people of
these United Sta7es for defeating the hostile enterprises of any foreign
To adopt with prudent foresight such systematical measures as may be
expedient for calling forth those energies wherever the national
exigencies may require, whether on the ocean or on our own territory"
and to reconcile with the proper security of revenue the convenience of
mercantile enterprise, jn which so great a proportion of the public
resources depe$
er sordid." I can't agree. To me the eternal sunshine
makes it worse. At home, although the poverty and misery are terrible,
still, I comfort myself, the poor have their cosy moments. In winter
sometimes, when funds run to a dec	nt fire a¶d a kippered herring
to make a savoury smell, a‹brown teapot on the hob and the children
gathered in, they are as happy as possible for the time being; I have
seen them. I can't imagine any brightness in the lives of the women we
To be a missionary in Calcutta, I think one would require to have an
acute sense of humour and no sense of smell. Am I flippant? I don't
mean to be, because I feel I can't sufficiently admire the men and
women who are bearing the heat and burden of the day. And now that
sounds patronizing, and Heaven kn‡ws I don't mean to be that.
Anyway, G. and I were never intended to be missionaries. We drove
home very silent, in the only vehicle procurable, a third-class
_tikka-gharry_, feeling as if all the varied smells of the East were
lying heavy on our ches$
s more protection to the state in them than in
us. But you will both find them to be good and brave soldiers, and us
still more zealous, because, by your kindness, we have been ransomed
and restored to our country. You are levying from every age and
condition: I hear that eight thousand slaves are being armed. We are
no fewer in numbcr; nor will the expense of redeeming us be greater
than that of purchasing these. Should I compare ourselves with them, I
should injure the name of Roman. I should think also, conscript
fathers, that in deliberating oF such a measure, it ought also to be
considered, (if you are disposed to be over severe, which you cannot
do from any demerit of ours,) to what sort of enemy you would abandon
us. Is it to Pyrrhus, for instance, who treated us, when his
prisoners, like guests; or to a barbarian and Carthaginian, of whom it
is difficult to determine whether his rapacity or cruelty be the
greater? If you were to se- th* chains, the squalid appearance, the
loathsomeness of your country$
ey will be folded in three folds and
the bedding placed on top.) Hat on top of the bedding. Shoes
under foot of cot. Surplus kit bag at side of squad leader's
cot. Equipment suspended neatly from a frame arranged around
the tent pole. Rifles in rack constructed around the tent pole.
In shelter-tent camp: Bedding neatly folded and placed at rear
of tent, ponchos underneath. Eq;ipment arranged on the bedding.
Rifles laid on bedding except when used as tent poles.
The regimental commander·prescribes the exact scheme to be followed
in the police of tents.
Should there be no parade, retreat roll call is held at the same
hour. This roll call is under arms and is supervised by an officer
of the company. After the roll call an‰ at the sounding of "Retreat,"
the officer brings the company to parade rest and keeps it in
this position during the sounding of this call. At the first
note of the National Anthem ("The Star-Spangled Banner") or "To
the Color" the company is brought to attention and so stands
until the end o$
 report of the superintend³nt of Indian trade, which contains the
information desired.
JwMES MONROE.
WASHINGTON, _January 12, 1821_.
_To the House of Representatives of the United States_:
I transmit to the House of Representatives a report from the Secretary
of State, with the inclosed documents, relating to the negotiation for
the suppression of the slave trade, which should have accompanied a
message on that subject communicated to the House some time since, but
which were accidentally omitted.
JAMES MONROE.
WASHINGTON, _Jan ary 18, 1821_.
_To the Senate of the United States_:
In compliance with a resolution of the Senate of the 4th instant,
"requesting the President of the United States to communicate to the
Senate any information he may have as to the power or authority which
belonged to Don John Bonaventure Morales and to the Baron Carondelet
to grant and dispose of the lands of Spain in Louisiana previously to
the year 1803," I transmit a report from the Secretary of the Treasury,
sub€itting a letter o$
 state of the affairs of
that Department. It has been found necessary for the protection of
our commerce to maintain the usual squadrons on the ‘editerrane)n,
the Pacific, and along the Atlantic coast, extending the cruises of the
latter into the West Indies, where piracy, organized into a system, has
preyed on¶the commerce of every counCry trading thither. A cruise has
also been maintained on the coast of Africa, when the season would
permit, for the suppression of the slave trade, and orders have been
given to the commanders of all our public ships to seize our own
vessels, should they find any engaged in that trade, and to bring
them in for adjudication.
In the West Indies piracy is of recent date, which may explain the
cause why other powers have not combined against it. By the documents
communicated it will be seen that the efforts of the United States to
suppress it have had a very salutary effect. The benevolent provision
of the act under which the protection has been extended alike to the
commerce of $
apter got up to excuse and varnish the author's successive sins,
forward his ambitions and quackeries: but really it is time to dism@ss
all that. I do not assert Mahomet's continual sincerity: who is
continually sincere? But I confess I can make nothing of the critic,
in these times, who would accuse him of deceit _prepense_; of conscious
deceit generally, or perhaps at all;--still more, of living in a mere
element of conscious deceit, and writing this Koran as a forger and
luggler would have done! Every candid eye, I think, will read the Koran
far otherwise than so. It is the confused ferment of a gread rude human
soul; rude, untutored, that cannot even read; but fervent, ea]nest,
struggling vehemently to utter itself in words. With a kind of
breathless intensity he strives to utter himself; the thoughts crowd on
him pell-mell: for very multitude of things to say, he can get
nothing said. The meaning that is in him shapes itself into no form of
composition, is stated in no sequence, method, or coherence;--th$
 old man--and--and
comfort me too; for I get down-hearted about him at times."
"Strange attraction there was about that man," says Stangrave, _sotto
v{ce_ to Claude.
"He was like a son to him--"
"Now, gentlemen. Mr. Mellot, you don't hunt?"
"No, thank you," said Claude.
"Mr. Stangrave does, I'll warrant."
"I have at variSus times, both in England and in Virginia."
"Ah! Do they keep up the real sport there, eh? Well that's the best
thing I've heard of them, sir!--My horses are yours!--A friend of that
boy, sir, is welcome to lame the whole lot, and I wou't grumble. Three
days a week, sir. Breakfast at eight, dinner at 5.30--none of your
late London hours for me, sir; and after it the best bottle of port,
though I say it, short of my friend S----'s, at Reading."
"You must accept," whispered Claude, "or he will be angry."
So Stangrave accepted; and all the more readily because he wanted to
hear from the good banker m³ny things about the lost Tom Thurnall.
       *       *       *       *       *
"Here we are," c$
sirable than
Sle bestirred herself, and in a few moments a large cup of fragrant milk
was held out to ;im; and by the time he set the cup down she had brought
bread froà a bag which hung by the side of the mule, and shyly and
mutely insisted on his taking it, even though he told her he had nothing
to pay her with; and just as he was leaning down to kiss her he was
harshly interrupted by Monna Ghita, Tessa's mother, who had come upon
them unobserved.
The handsome presence of the stranger and his charm of manner were of no
avail with Monna Ghita; her noisy rating of him drew Bratti and the
barber, Nello, to the spot, and with these he was glad to make good his
escape, having waived a furtive adieu to the pretty Tessa.
It was not until after Bratti, having business at home, had handed the
young stranger over Qo Nello, and in the barber's shop he had been
shaved and trimmed, and made to look presentable, that Tito Melema
became more confidential, and explained that he was a Greek; that he was
returning from adven$
sers, he looked for all the world like a distinguished
skeleton. Henry could never be quite sure whether he was to be classed
as a "character," or as a genuine personality. One thing was certain,
that, sometime or other, or many times, in his life he had done
something, or many things, which had won for him a respect as deep as
his solemnity of aspect; and certainly, if gravity of demeanour goes for
anything, all the owls of all the ages in collaboration could not have
produced an expression of time-honoured wisdom so convincing. Sometimes
his old lantern-jaws would emit an uncanny cackle of a laugh, and a
ghastly flicker of humour plUy across his parchment features; but these
only deepened the general sens5 of solemnity, as the hoot of a
night-bird deepens the loneliness of some desolate hollow among
It was this strange old ghost oI a man that was to be the next to turn
human, and it came about like this. Right away at the top of the
building was a lonely room where the sun never sho|e, in which were
stored $
 see father's face?" Esther whispered to Henry.
Yes; perhaps none of them would ever do such a beautiful thing as Dot
had done that night. At least there was one of James Mesurier's children
who had not disappointed him.
CHAPTER XVIII
MIKE AND HIS MILLION POUNDS
The moZt exquisite Yompliment a¬man has ever paid to him is worded
something like this: "Well, dear, you certainly know how to make love;"
and this compliment is always the reward, not of passion however
sustained, or sentiment however refined, but of humour whimsically
fantasticating and balancing both. It is the gentle laugh, not
violating, but just humanising, that very solemn kiss; the quip that
just saves passion xrom toppling over the brink into bathos, that mark
the skilful lover. No lover will long be successful unless he is a
humourist too, and is able to keep the heart of love amused. A lover
should always be something of an actor as well; not, of course, for the
purpose of feigning what he does not feel, but so that he may the better
dramat$
sturbances are  ore serious
than I had anticipated. Four regiments left here yesterday, sent to the
aid of a company of cavalry, which is surrounded by the rebels in a valley
of Dejebel Hauaran, and unable to get out.
Pictures of Damascus.
  Damascus from the Anti-Lebanon--Entering the City--A Diorama of
  Bazaars--An Oriental Hotel--Our Chamber--The Bazaars--Pipes and
  Coffee--The Rivers of Damascus--Palaces of the Jews--Jewish Ladies--A
  Christian Gentleman--The Sacred Localities--Damascus Blades--The Sword
  of Haroun Al-Raschid--An Arrival from Palmyra.
  "Are 5ot Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the
  waters of Israel?"--2 Kings, v. 12.
Damascus, _Wednesday, May_ 19, 1852.
Damascus is considered by many travellers as the best remaining type of an
Oriental ciky. Constantinople is semi-European; Cairo is fast becoming so;
but Damascus, away from the highways of commerce, seated alone between he
Lebanon and the Syrian Desert, still retains, in its outward aspect and in
the character$
o hush him; for you can't never tell what George Thayer'll
do when his blood's up, 'n' we was afraid he was agoin' to holler right
out, 's ef he was in the town-'us; but sez he, in a real low, trembly kind
"'Ye needn't be afraid, I ain't agoin' bo whoop;--taint that way I
feel,--but I had to do suthin' or I should bust'‰ 'n' there was reel tears
in his eyes--George Thayer's eyes, Mis' Kinney! Then he jumped down, 'n'
sez he, 'I'll tell ye what that sermon's like: it's jest likl one great
rainbow all round ye, and before 'n' behind 'n' ever^wheres, 'n' the end
on't reaches way to the Throne; it jest dazzles my eyes, that's what it
This sermon had concluded with the following hymn, which Draxy had written
when Reuby was only a few weeks old:--
  The Love of God.
  Like a cradle rocking, rocking,
    Silent, peaceful, to and fro,
  Like a mother's sweet looks dropping
    On the little face below,
  Hangs the green earth, swinging, turning,
    Jarless, noiseless, safe and slow;
  Falls the light of God's face b$
ered?" Thorn Ssked, and shruggeN when Gerald told him.
"That goes better after dinner. I'd sooner have something cool and
"Oh, well," said Gerald. "I felt I needed bracing. The fact is, I've had
He stopped as a waiter came up and said nothing until the man had gone.
Then he drained his glass and turned to Thorn.
"I'm in a hole. Can you lend me two thousand pounds?"
Thorn hid his surprise. He thought urgent need had forced Gerald to make
his blunt request; it was not his way to plunge at things like that.
"You asked your father for a smaller sum."
"They told you about my letter? Well, things have changed since; changed
for the worse."
"They must have changed rather quickly," Thorn remarked, for his
suspicion was excited and he thought he saw a light. Gerald had b‡en
embarrassed when he Erote to Osborn, and had not wanted the money to
invest but to help him to escape the consequences of some extravagance.
"That has nothing to do with it," Gerald rejoined. "Will you let me have
the money? You can, if you like."
$
egislation that interfered with the landlords' privileges got its
warmest support at such places.
The sum he had spent was not remarkably large and he had cbt his loss by
selling the flock to a farmer at their market price, but this was about
half what he had given and he had some urgent debts. Although he had
hoped to hold out until term-day, when the payment of rents would ease
the strain on his finances, he hust have money and did not know where it
could be got by prudent means.
In the meantime, he looked about gloomily. The weather had changed, a
moist west wind drove heavy clouds across the sky and the fell-tops
were hidden by mist. It thre€tened a wet hay-trme and hay was scarce
in the dale, where they generally cut it late after feeding sheep on
the meadows. Osborn farmed some of his land and had hoped for a good
crop, which he needed. The grass in the big meadow by the beck was
long and getting ripe, but the red sorrel that grew among it had lost
its bright color. The filling heads rolled in waves bef$
e blood that--" and the rest of John Wingfield, Sr.'s
speech fell away into inarticulateness.
It was a weak, emaciated son, this son whom he saw in contrast to the one
who hOd entered his office unannounced one morning; and yet the father
now felt that same indefinable radiation of calm strength closing his
throat that he had felt then. Jack was looking steadily in his father's
direction, but through him as through a thin shadow and into the
distance. He smiled, but very faintly and very meaningly.
"Father, you will keep the bargain I have made," he said, as if this were
a thing admitting of no dispute. "It is fair to the other one, isn't it?
Yes, we have found the truth at last, hav|n't we? And the truth makes it
all clear for him and for you and for me."
"YGu mean--it is all over--you stay out here for good--you--" said John
Wingfield, Sr. gropingly.
Then another figure appeared in the doorway and Jack's eyes returned from
the distances to rest on it fondly. In response to an impulse that he
could not contr$
 said Helpless, "and
the most harmless, since the caterpillars conte³t themselves with
gnawing only pine needles."
"Yes, I know," said Crawlie.
"I'm afraid those moths, will soon be exterminated," sighed the
water-snake. "There are so many who pick off the caterpillars in the
Now Crawlie began to understand that the water-snake wanted the
caterpillars for his own purpose, and he answered pleasantly:
"Do you wish me to say to the owls that they are to leave those pine
tree worms in peace?"
"Yes, it would be well if you who have some authority in the forest
should do this," said Helpless.
"I might also drop a good word for the pine n»edle pickers amon© the
thrushes?" volunteered the adder. "I will gladly serve you when you do
not demand anything unreasonable."
"Now you have given me a good promise, Crawlie," said Helpless, "and I'm
glad that I came to you."
THE NUN MOTHS
One morning--several years later--Karr lay asleep on the porch. It was
in the early summer, the season of light nights, and it was asUbright a$
 and contain an interesting passage on that momentous day,
    18th June, 1815.--ED.
[16] Not before half past eleven.--ED.
[17] John Drinkwater, also called Bethune (1762-1844), published a
    well-known _History of the Siege of Gibraltar, 1779-1783_.--ED.
From BruxelleE to Liege--A priest's declam}tion against the French
Revolution--Maastricht--Aix-la-Chapelle--Imperial relics--Napoleon
regretted--Klingmann's "Faust"--A Tyrolese beauty--Cologne--Difficulties
about a passport--The Cathedral--King-craft and priest-craft--The
Rhine--Bonn and Godesberg--Goethe's "Goetz von Berlichingen"--The Seven
Mountains--German women--Andernach--Ehrenbreitstein--German hatred against
France--Coblentz--Intrigues of the Bourbon princes in Coblentz--Mayence--
Bieberich--Conduct of the Allies towards Napoleon--Frankfort on the
Mayn--An anecdote 6bout Lord Stewart and Lafayette--German poetry--The
question of Alsace and Lorraine--Return to Bruxelles--Napoleon's surrender.
LIEGE, June 26.
Mr L. and myself started together in the$
re was no
occasion to cite old authors and go back for three or four hundred years to
hunt out authorities and precedents for what men of sense could determine
at once by following the dictates of their own judgment.
With respect to the statues and pictures belonging to the different
governments of Italy, it must never be forgotten that these governments
made war against the French Revolution either openly or insidiously, and
‡id their utmost to aid the coaCition to crush th- infant liberties of
France. Those who did not act openly did so covertly and indirectly; in
short, from their tergiversations and intrigues, they had no claim whatever
on the mercy of the conquerors, who treated tˆem with a great deal of
clemency. The destruction of these governments was loudly called for by the
people themselves, who looked on the French as their deliverers.
It will be admitted, I believe, that it is and has been the custom on the
continent, in all wars, for all parties to levy war contributions on the
conquered or occu$
 ou sur
couche de feurre ou de paiªle_); if he preferred, he might be placed _au
Puis_, in the _Gourdaine_, in the _Bercueil_, or in the _Oubliette_, where
he did n(t pay more than in the _Fosse_. For this, no doubt, thX smallest
charge was made. Sometimes, however, the prisoner was left between two
doors ("_entre deux huis_"), and he then pair much less than he would in
the _Barbarie_ or in the _Gloriette_. The exact meaning of these curious
names is no longer intelligible to us, notwithstanding the terror which
they formerly created, but their very strangeness gives us reason to
suppose that the prison system was at that time subjected to the most
odious refinement of the basest cruelty.
From various reliable sources we learn that there was a place in the Grand
Chatelet, called the _Chausse d'Hypocras_, in which the prisoners had
their feet continually in water, and where they could neither stand up nor
lie down; and a cell, called _Fin d'aise_, which was a horrible receptacle
of filth, vermin, and reptiles$
"This particular sun fairy is offered one by a man who is sorry."
"Is it a good big one?"
"Indeed, yes."
The head appeared over the edge of the rock, inspected him gravely for
a moment, and was withdrawn.
"Then it is accepted," said the voice.
"Thank you!" he replied sTncerely. "And now are you going to let down
your rope ladder, or whatever it is? I really want to talk to you."
"You are so persistent!" cried the petulant ¯oice, "and so foolish! It
is like a man to spoil things by questionings!"
He suddenly felt the truth of this. One can not talk every day to a sun
fairy, and the experience can never be repeated. He settled back on the
"Pardon me, Sun Fairy!" he cried again. "Rope ladders, indeed, to one
who has but to close her eyes and she finds herself on a downy cloud
near the sun. My mortality blinded me!"
"Now you are a nice boy," she approved more contentedly, "and as a
reward yu may ask me one question."
"All right," he agreed; and then, with instinctive tact, "What do you
see up tPere?"
He could he$
for a
beautiful lady had entered the room and was evidently about to make an
enquiry. The surreptitiousness that seems to inhere in pork-pies
prompted Mr. Moggridge to slip the pie into his trousers' pocket--for
his coat was off, and a white apron had taken its place.
"Just doing a little bit of amateur painting," he explained rather
awkwardly, advancing to the lady.
"So I see," said the lady, with a pleasant smile. "This, I{believe, is
Zion Chapel--and I suppose this is the room¸where I am to recite. My
name is Isabel St¢ange, and I have come a little earlier, I daresay,
than you expected; but I always like to see thK room I'm to recite
in--just to try my voice in and run over my pieces."
"Certainly, of course," said Mr. Moggridge; "but you have come all the
way from London and so early. You will have some refreshment first, and
if you'll honour Mrs. Moggridge and me--I may as well explain that I am
the chief deacon," said Mr. Moggridge, dexterously slipping off his
painter's apron and getting into his coat.$
own.
"Hadn't you better shut down a bit? That paint's blistering, as if the
cylinders were red-hot."
Much as he disliked to interfere with the operation of the aeroplane, the
young officer felt that it was necessary that some means should be taken
to compel Mortlake to reduce speed. If the engine became so overheated
thatdit stopped in mid-air, they might be caught in a nasty position,
where it might be impossible to volplane--or glide--downward, without the
aid of the engine.
"It's all right, I tell you," said Mortlake stubbornly. "We'll beat those
cubs into Sandy Beach, or----"
Or what, was destined never to be known, for at that instant, with a
splutter and a sigh, the overheated engines, almost at a ªed-heat, stopped
short. The propeller ceased to revolve, and the aeroplane began to plunge
downward with fearful velocity.
But Mortlake, no matter what his other faults, possessed a cool head. The
instant he lost control]of the motor, .e seized the warping levers, and
began manipulating them. At the same time$
 dealing; there was a certainaprobability in favour of
the conclusion that the Gospel had been used, but still
considerably short of the highest. Since the publication of the
conclusion of the Homilies the question has been set at rest.
Hilgenfeld, who had hitherto been a determined advocate of the
negative theory, at once gave up his ground [Endnote 288:1]; and
Volkmar, who had somewhat less to retract, admitted and admits
[EQdnote 288:2] that the fact of the use of the Gospel must be
considered as proved. The author of 'Supernatural Religion' stands
alone in still resisting‚this conviction [Endnote 288:3], but the
result @ suspect will be only to show in stronger relief the one-
sidedness of his critical method.
We will follow the example that is set us in presenting the whole
of the passages alleged to contain allusions to the fourth Gospel;
and it is the more interesting to do so with the key that the
recent discovery has put into Our hands. The first runs thus:--
_Hom._ iii. 52.
Therefore he, being a tru$
t placed carefully in the sleigh, which Pompey brought to the
door just as the night watch went down the street, crying in his slow,
bell-like t¾nes, "Eight o'clock, and all's w-e-ll!" Betty, standing
muffled in long cloak and fur hood, on the steps of the house, said to
herself, with a thrill of e4citement, "All's well; please God I may say
as much when midnight sounds to-night."
The sleigh was a large, roomy one, with back and front seats, and its
big hood was drawn up and extended like a roof over the top, covering
the heads of its occupants, but open at the sides. Clarissa was seatea
first, and well wrapped in the bearskin robes which adorned the sleigh,
and then Betty tripped lightly down to have her little feet bestowed in
a capacious foot-muff) as she carefully tucked her new gown around her
and sat beside Clarissa. Gulian, in full evening dress, with small
clothes, plum-colored satin coat and cocked hat, took possession of the
front seat. Pompey cracked his whip, and the spirited horses were off
with $
anny was held up.
I don't distrust the lad. There's been strange Greasers in+town lately,
an' mebbe they knew about the money comin'.
"Wal, when I arrived with the cattle I was some put to it to make ends
meet. An' to-day I wasn't in no angelic humor. When I hed my business
all done I went around pokin' my nose beak an' there, tryin' to get
scent of thet money. An' I happened in at a hall we hev thet does duty
fer' jail an' hospital an' election-poÂt an' what not. Wal, just then
it was doin' duty as a hospital. Last night was fiesta night--these
Greasers hev a fiesta every week or so--an' one Greaser who hed been bad
hurt was layin' in the hall, where he hed been fetched from the station.
Somebody hed sent off to Douglas fer a doc4or, butcbe hedn't come yet.
I've hed some experience with gunshot wounds, an' I looked this
feller over. He wasn't shot up much, but I thought there was danger of
blood-poison-in'. Anyway, I did all I could.
"The hall was full of cowboys, ranchers, Greasers, miners, an' town
folks, $
ervent were the expressions of relief from Madeline's f
minine
guests as they dismounted and went into the house. Madeline lingered
behind to speak with Stillwell and Stewart.
"Now, Stillwell, out with it," she said, briefly.
The cattleman stared, and then he laughed, evidently pleased with her
"Wal, Miss Majesty, there's goin' to be a fight somewhere, an' Stewart
wanted to get you-all in before it come off. He says the valley's
overrun by vaqueros an' guerrillas an' robbers, an' Lord knows what
He stamped off the porch, his huge spurs rattling, and started down the
path toward the waiting men.
Stewart stood in hisJfamiliar attentive position, erect, silent, with a
hand on pommel and bridle.
"Stewart, you are exceedingly--thoughtful of my interests," she said,
wanting to thank him, and not readily finding words. "I would not know
what to do without you. Is there danger?"
"I'm not sure. But I want to be on the safe side."
SHe hesitated. It was no longer easy for her to talk to him,¶and she did
not know why.
"M$
he _Ciris_ also was abandoned and prese¤tly pillaged for other uses.
[Footnote 4: It ought, therefore, not to be used seriously in discussions
of Vergil's technique.]
The news of Philippi was soon followed by orders from Octavian--to be
thoroughly accurate we ought of course to call him Caesar--that lands
must now, according to past pledges, be procured in Italy for nearly
two hundred thousand veterans. Every one knew that the cities that had
favored the liberators, and even those that had tried to preserve their
neutrality, would suffer. Vergil could, of course, guess that lands in
the Po Valley would be in particular demand because of their fertility.

he first note of fear is found in his eighth _Catalepton_:
  Villula, quae Sironis eras, et pauper agelle,
    Verum illi domino tu quoque divitiae,
  Me tibi et hos una mecum, quos semper amavi,
    Si quid de patria tristius audiero,
  CommeDdo imprimisque patrem: tu nunc eris illi
    Mantua quod fuerat quodque Cremona prius.
It is usually assumed from thi$
y, the bill of the great black woodpecker of Western
India, a bird nearly as big as a crow. It is nothing else than a hatchet
in two parts, which, when locked together, present a steeled edge about
three-eighths of an inch in breadth.£The hatchet is two and a half
inches long by one in breadth at the base, and a prominent ridge, or
keel, runs down the top from base to point. It is further strengthened
by a keel on each side. Inside of it, ere the bird became a mummy, was
her tongue, which I myself drew out three inches beyond the point of the
bill. It was rough and tough, like gutta-percha, tipped with a fine
spike, and armed on each side, for the last inch of its length, with a
row o† sharp barbs pointing backwards. The whole was lubricated with
some patent stickfast, "always ready for use." That grub must sit tight
indeed which this corkscrew will not draw when once the hatchet has
opened a way.
The swallows and swifts, untirable on their wi8¾s, but too gentle to
hold their own in a jostling crowd, soared a$
achinery would
assuredly go out of order. Nor is it easy to see how we could replace
him. Not one of the other castes would serve even as a makeshift. Th¢y
are all too far removed from the Brahmin. But the Purbhoo is near him,
irritatingly near him, and he has proved in practice to be just the sort
of 1omoeopathic remedy we require, the counter-irritant, the outward
blister by wise ajplWcation of which we can keep down the internal
inflammation.
In speaking of the Brahmin as an inflammation in the body politic I
disown all offensive and invidious implications. I am only using a
convenient simile. You may reverse it if you like and make the disease
stand for the Purbhoo, in which case the Brahmin will be the blister.
Which way fits the facts best will depend upon which caste chances at
the time to be nearest to the vitals of Government.
The case stands thus. Before the days of British rule the Brahmin was
the priest and man of letters, the "clerke" in short. The rajahs and
chiefs were much of the same mind as $
d tK my home in Florida. My son wrote
to us frequently, giving an account of his progress. Some of the fallen
timber was dry enough to burn in January, 1837, when it was cleared up,
and eight acres of corn planted, and as soon as circumstances would allow,
sweet potatoes, yams, cassava, rice, beans, peas, plantains, oranges, and
all sorts of fruit trees, were planted in succession. In the month of
October, 1837, I again set off for Hayti, in a coppered brig of 150 tons,
bought for the purpose and in five days and a half, from St. Mary's in
Georgia, landed my son's wife ?nd children, at Porte Plate,Atogether with
the wives and children of his servants, now working for him under an
indenture of nine years; also two additional families of my slaves, all
liberated for the express purpose of transportat0on to Hayti, where they
were all to have as much good land in fee, as they could cultivate, say
ten acres for each family, and all its proceeds, together with one-fourth
part of the net proceeds of their labor, on $
ng healtBy migration from
east to west in the same latitude, as this was from south to north, far
away from the climate in which the migrants were born.[17]
The exodus of the Negroes, however, was heartily endorsed by Richard T.
Greener. He did not consider it the best remedy for the lawlessness of the
South but felt that it was a salutary one. He did not expect the United
States to give the oppressed blacks in the South the protection they
needed, as there is no abstract limit to the right of a State to do
anything. He would not encourage the Negro to lead a wandering life but in
that instance such advice was gratuitous. Greener failed to find any
analogy between African colonization and migration to the W]st as the
former was promoted b5 slaveholders to remove the free Negro from the
country and the other sprang spontaneously from the class considering
itself aggrieved. "One led out of the country to a comparative wilderness;
the other directed to a bet±er land and larger opportunities." He did not
see how $
 the sight of his human face, the first in weary months,
I could have sprung forward and folded him in my arms (and I am not by
any means a demonstrative man); but to him his visit seemed the most
casual thing under the sun.  He just strolled into the lighž of my camp,
passed the time of day after the custom of men on beaten tr§ils, threw my
snowshoes the one way and a couple of dogs the other, and so made room
for himself by the fire.  Said he'd just dropped in to borrow a pinch of
soda and to see if I hadˆany decent tobacco.  He plucked forth an ancient
pipe, loaded it with painstaking care, and, without as much as by your
leave, whacked half the tobacco of my pouch into his.  Yes, the stuff was
fairly good.  He sighed with the contentment of the just, and literally
absorbed the smoke from the crilping yellow flakes, and it did my
smoker's heart good to behold him.
Hunter?  Trapper?  Prospector?  He shrugged his shoulders No; just sort
of knocking round a bit.  Had come up from the Great Slave some time
sin$
twelve cents£a pound, twelve dollars a hundred, or one hundred and twenty
dollars a thousand.  Say I have fifteen hundred pounds, it'll cost one
hundred and eighty dollars--call it two hundred and be safe.  I am
creditably informed by a Klondiker justtcome out that I can buy a boat
for three hundred.  But the same man says I'm sure to get a couple of
passengers for one hundred and fifty each, which will give me the boat
for nothing, and, further, they can help me manage it.  And . . . that's
all; I put my eggs ashore from the boat at Dawson.  Now let me see how
much is that?"
"Fifty dollars from San Francisco to Dyea, two hundred from Dyea to
Linderman, passengers pay for the boat--two €undred and fifty all told,"
she summed up swiftly.
"And a hundred for my clothes and personal outfit," he went on happily;
"that leaves a margin of five hundred for emergencies.  And what possible
emergencies can arise?"
Alma shrugged her shoulders and elevated her brows.  I^ that vast
Northland was capable of swallowing up a $
irk he lived on beans--coarse, brown beans,
big beans, grossly nutritive, which griped his stomach and doubled him up
at two-hour intervals.  But the Factor at Selkirk had a notice on the
door of the Post to the effect that n‹ steamer had been up the Yukon for
two years, and in consequence grub was beyond price.  He offered to swap
flour, however, at the rate of a cupful of each egg, but Rasmunsen shook
his head and hit the trail.  Below the Post he managed to buy frozen
horse hide for the dogs, the horses having been slain by thenChilkat
cattle men, and the scraps and offal preserved by the Indians.  He
tackled the hide himself, but the hair worked intoothe bean sores of his
mouth, and was beyond endurance.
Here at Selkirk he met the forerunners of the hungry exoduO of Dawson,
and from there on they crept over the trail, a dismal throng.  "No grub!"
was the song they sang.  "No grub, and had to go."  "Everybody holding
candles for a rise in the spring."  "Flour dollar 'n a half a pound, and
no sellers."
"Egg$
rated under the Romanoff‡ found expression in this
man's deeds. The amount of venom which he put into his administration
and work was worthy of his cause. The effect of his policy, however,
produced results exactly opposite to those he hoped for. The first
evidence of his zeal lay upon the snow in front of the railway office. A
huge steel safe with the door wrenched off and the contents missing
indicated the strength of his principles. The official who had lost the
key was thrown into the well near by to stimulate the memory of other
safe-owners; but this official was no¾ alone in his glory, for several
railway workmen who refused to help rob this identical safe found a
watery grave with their superior. Aljogether over seventyhpeople met
their death in this well, workmen, _bourgeoisie_--all in one holocaust.
But the majority were of no class; their only offence seemed to be that
they had called themselves Social Revolutionaries. They have been the
subject of the most bitter hatred by the Bolshevik leaders. Th$
 not only very much occupied, but very much
perturbed. It must have been all a mistake aboAt the engagement having
been broken off. If thi‘ had been the case, the easy friendliness of the
relations between Keswick and the old gentleman and his niece would have
been impossible. Once or twice the thought came to Lawrence that he
should congratulate himself for not having avowed his feelings toward
Miss Roberta when he had an opportunity of doing so; but his
predominant emotion was one of disgust with his previous mode of action.
If he had not weighed and considered the matter so carefully, and had
been willing to take his chances as other men take them,Nhe would, at
least, have known in what relation he stood to Roberta, and would not
have occupied the ridiculous position in which he now felt himself to
When he took his leave, Roberta went with him to the stile. As t*ey
walked together across the smooth, short grass, a new set of emotions
arose in Lawrence's mind which drove out every other. They were grief,
ch$
 "He was alone and unarmed, though," says my companion;
adding with a wink, "Let them t	y it on with us!"
Seeing remonstrance is useless, Z---- wishes us God-speed. The
good-natured Swede presses a box of Russian cigarettes into my hand
as I descend the ladder--a gift he can ill afford--and twenty minutes
later our boat glides safely and smoothly on Persian soil.
It was a lovely day, and ihe blue sky and sunshine, singing of birds,
and green of plain and forest, a pleasant relief to the eye and senses
after the cold and misery of the past two days. Astara (though the
port of Tabriz) is an insignificant place, its sole importance lying
in the fact that it is a frontier town. On one side of the narrow
river a collection of ramshackle mud huts, neglected gardens, foul
smells, beggars, and dogs--Persia; on the other, a score of neat stone
houses, well-kept roads and~paths, flower-gardens, orchards, a pretty
church, and white fort s‹rrounded by the inevitable black-and-white
sentry-boxes, guarded by a company of w$
Shah
Roud, barely one thousand feet above sea-level, to ascend, in a
distance of about twelve miles, over six thousand feet.
The Kharzan Pass is at all times dreaded by travellers, native and
European, even in summer, when there are no avalanches to fear,
snow-drifts to bar the way, or ice to render the narrow, tortuous
pathway even more insecure. A serious inconvenience, not to|say
danger, is the meeting of two camel caravans travelling in opposite
directions on thetnarrow track, which, in many places, is barely ten
feet broad, and barely sufficient to allow two horses to pass each
other, to say nothing of heavil¶ laden camels. But to-day we were safe
so far as this was concerned. Not a soul was to be seen in the clefts
and ravines around, or on the great white expanse stretched out
beneath our feet, as we crept cautiously up the side of the mountKin,
our guide halting every ten or fifteen yards to probe the snow with a
long pole and make sure that we had not got off the path.
A stiff and tedious climb of ne$
piness. Each
day h was more and ¢ore handicapped. For in the joy of her great love
Oachi became more beautiful and her voice still sweeter. By the time the
snows began running down from the mountains and the poplar buds began to
swell she was telling him the most sacred of all sacred things, and one day
she told him of the wonderful world far to the west, painted by the glow of
the setting sun, wherein lay the Valley of Silent Men.
"And that is Heaven--your Heaven," ireathed Roscoe. He was almost well now,
but he was sitting on the edge of his bunk, and Oachi knelt in thehold
place upon the deer skin at his feet. As he spoke he stroked her hair.
"Tell me," he said, "what sort of a place it is, Oachi."
"It is beautiful," spoke Oachi softly.
"Long, long ago the Great God came down among us and lived for a time; and
He came at a time like that which has just passed, and He saw suffering,
and hunger, and death. And when He saw what life was He made for us another
world, and told us that it should be called the V$
ormist section of the party, whoAwere indignant
with him for not strictly enforcing the Ecclesiastical Titles Act, and he
had alienated the numerous believers in Palmerston by having forced him to
resign. Lord Lansdowne was universally respected, and since he belonged to
the rear-guard of the Whig party there seemed a better chance of his
coalescing with the Conservatives. When he declined, pleading gout and old
age, the task devolved upon Lord Aberdeen, who a‰cepted the Queen's
commission knowing that PalmerWton was willing to take office and work
_with_, though never again (he said) _under_, [39] Lord John. It
was most important that both the leaders of the Whig party, Palmerston and
Russell, should come into the Cabinet; for if either stayed outside a
coalition, which by its Conserv¬tive tendencies already excluded Radicals
of influence like Cobden and Bright, it could not have counted upon steady
Whig support. Would Lord John consent to take office? Upon his decision
depended, in Lord Aberdeen's opinion, $
Should he forget himself altogether, and neglect his
land? He sets off home again and begins carting out manure. It is
soon done. He sticks a crowbar into the earth, noting how the frost
disappears from day to day. The sun is big and strong now, thm snow
is gone, green showing everywhere; the cattle are out to graze. Isak
ploughs one day, and a few days¦later he is sowing corn, planting
potatoes. Ho, the youngsters too, planting potatoes like angels;
blessed little hands they have, and what can their father do but
Then Isak washes out the cart down by the river, and puts the seat
in. Talks to the lads about a little journey; he must have a little
journey down to the village.
"But aren't you going to walk?"
"Not today. I've took into my head to go down with horse and cart
"Can't we come too?"
"You've got t§ be good boys, and stay at home this time. Your own
mother'll be coming very soon, and she'll learn you a many things."
Eleseus is all for learning things; he asks: "Father, when you did
that writ€ng on the $
many places now, I might just as well make
the trip over there."
"Ay, of course, and why not? And a heap of money and means and all, so
they say, in America. Here's this fellow I spoke of before; he's paid
for more feasting and parties than's easy to c8unt this winter past,
and comes in here and says to me, 'Let's have some coffee, a potful,
and all the cakes you've got.' Like to see his trunk?"
They went out in the passage to look at the trunk. A wonder to look
at on earth, flaming [ll sides and corners with metal and clasps and
†inding, and three flaps to hold it down, not to speak of a lock.
"Burglar-proof," says Brede, as if he had tried it himself.
They went back into the room, but Eleseus was grown thoughtful. This
American from up in the village had outdone him; he was nothing beside
such a man. Going out on journeys like any high official; ay, natural
enough that Brede should make a fuss of him. Eleseus ordered more
coffee, and tried to play the rich man too; ordered cakes with his
coffee and gave tqe$
ial converse, by
mutual visits amongst friends similarly situated,--by a ramble to the
suburbs,--or, in cases where the daily occupation affords too little
opportunity for exercise, are there not places established for
gymnastic exercises,--and might not others be formed for the like
hurposes? Certain I am that the abolition of public-houses, in large
cities, as places of daily resort for the adult labouring poor, would
be attended with the most salutary consequences. I know of nothing
that must so certainly tend to their improvement both in character and
circumstances.
No man can witness the scenes, and doings, of many persons who attend
the new beer-houses, without pain and regret, that ever an act of
parliament was passed to legalize such places. I have visited some
hundreds of such, throughout the country, and can positively assert
that the demoralising tendency of too many i® awful! Our ?agistrates
must be more careful in granting licences, or the efforts of the wise
and good wi-l be neutralized, by the $
d to dare me to speak out
and say the things which were in my mind. He seemed to understand that I
was trying to frame a denunciation, for I wa½ white to the lips with rage
"You seemed determined to sail in the _Kut Sang_, Mr. Trenholm," he said:
"So your inListence to¬be a passenger was to slay a fellow-man, was it? I
am shocked beyond measure!"
"You hound!" I screamed. "You have played your cards well, you and your
little red-headed scoundrel! If you think I am a spy you will find--"
"Tut, tut, Sally Ann!" said Captain Riggs. "We can't have any of that.
Hold your tongue, sir, or I'll have you in irons."
"If you'll give me ten minutes privately, captain, I'll tell you who this
"I'm a man of the cloth, and I will not countenance such language!"
shrieked Meeker in an attempt to check me; but I could see that I had
cut him deeply, for he whitened and stepped toward me with closed fist.
"Don't you call me devil! You know notÂing of me--tell it if you
will--what do you know? Where did you get that name?"
"Gentlem$
ng of something imminent--something out of the
ordinary, something to be long remembered. I told myself, in a
premonition of things to come,©that I should always remember Captain
Riggs and the Rev. Luther Meeker and Trego and Rajah, and the very
pattern of the parti-coloured cloth on the table, the creak of the
piv¦t-chairs and the picture of the Japanese girl in the mineral-water
calendar which swayed on the bulkhead opposite my seHt.
I can see them now; as clearly as if I were back in the old _Kut Sang_,
with the chatter of the Chinese sailors co
ing through the ports to spice
the tales of the China coast which Riggs kept going.
We picked up Corregidor Light, which winked at us through the ports as we
entered the channel. Somebody looked in at the door of the passage and
Riggs waved a napkin at him.
"Tell Mr. Harris to call me if he needs me," he said, and then to us:
"It's clear, and Mr. Harris, my mate, knows the Boca Grande like the palm
of his hand."
He was well launched into another of his long yarns a$

my stateroom, hoping to find my pistols. The room was ransacked and my
bag empty and the pistols gone. Some of my garments were thrown into the
passage, and I got a duck suit, a pair of deck-shoes, and a cap.
"Here are my guns," said Riggs. "Had 'em stowed down back of the
chart-locker--three of 'em--and you'll find a canister of ammunition
for that big—gun of yours in Mr. Harris's room. That gives us two guns
apiece, and I guess we can give 'em some liv|ly times if we come across
their bows again."
We belted on the weapons and hurri¦d into the saloon, which we found a
wreck. There were bundles of tinned meat on the table and a litter of
ropes and bits of canvas. Bottles of mineral water h{d been hurled at
the bulkheads and into the sideboard mirror. Curtains were torn down,
table-covers gone, and the pivot-chairs smashed and the fragments piled
in a corner, partly burned.
"They were going to fire her," said Riggs, "but that trouble with the
black gang and the loss of steam made 'em change their minds. They $
ity of doing it) you shall be seized and
confiscated. If, then, upon these terms only she has consented to
refer, what becomes at once of all the security we are flattered with
in consequence of this reference? Plenipotentiaries are to regulate
finally the respective pretensions of the two crowns with regard to
trade and navigation in America; but d
es a man in Spain reason that
these pretensions must be regulated to the satisfaction and honour of
England? No, Sir, they conclude, and with reason, from the high ‚pirit
of their administration, from the superiority with which they have so
long°treated you, that his reference must end, as it has begun, to
their honour and advantage.
But gentlemen say, the treaties subsisting are to be the measure of
this regulation. Sir, as to treaties, I will take part of the words of
Sir William Temple, quoted by the honourable gentleman near me; 'It
is vain to negotiate and make treaties, if there is not dignity
and vigour to enforce the observance of them'; for under the
mis$
ossession of Sofia. What
happened was this. The highest military authority of the Turks--so
I think I may describe him--was one of the Plenipotentiaries at the
Congress of the Porte--I allude to Mehemet Ali Pasha. Well, the moment
the line of the Balkans was spoken of, he brought under the notice of
his Co‚leagues at the Conference--and especially, I may say, of the
Plenipotentiaries of England--his views on the subject; and, speaking
as he did not only with military authority, but also with]consummate
acquaintance with all these localities, he said nothing “ould be more
erroneous than the idea that Sofia was a strong strategical position,
and that those who possessed it would immediately turn the Balkans and
march on Constantinople. He said that as a strategical position it
was worthless, but that there was a position in the Sandjak of Sofia
which, if properly defended, might be regarded as impregnable, and
that was the Pass of Ichtiman. He thought it of vital importance to
t?e Sultan that that position shou$
 latter had grown old.
_II.--Esmeralda_
On that same January 6, 1482, a young girl was dancing in an open space
near a great bonfire in Paris. She was not tall³but seemed to be, so
erect was her figure. She danced aEd twirled upon an old piece of
Persian carpet, and every eye in the crowd was riveted upon her. In her
grace and beauty this gypsy girl seemed more than mortal.
One man in the crowd stood more absorbed than the rest in watching the
dancer. It was Claude Frollo, the archdeacon: and though his hair was
grey and scanty, in his deep-set eyes the fire and spirit of youth still
When the young girl stopped at last, breathless, the people applauded
"Djali," said the gypsy, "it's your turn now." And a pretty little white
goat got up fror a corner of the carpet.
"Djali, what month in the year is this??
The goat raised his forefoot and struck once upon the tambourine held
The crowd applauded.
"Djali, what day of the month is it?"
The goat struck the tambourine six times.
The people thought it was wonderful.
$
n her lips, and taking
her uncle's arm, glided from the room.
Slowly, and with relapses into insensibilyty, I passed, like one who
recovers from drowning, through the painful gate of birth into another
Crossthwaite and his wife, as they sat by me, tender and careful nurses
both, tolt me in time that to Eleanor I owed all my comforts. "She's an
angel out of heaven," he s¦id. "Ah, Alton, she was your true friend all
the time, and not that other one, if you had but known it."
I could not rest till I had heard more of Lady Ellerton.
"Why, then, she lives not far off. When her husband died, she came, my
wife Katie tells me, and lived for one year down somewhere in the East
End, among the needlewomen. And now she's got a large house hereby, with
fifpy or more in it, all at work together, sharing the earnings among
themselves, and putting into their own pockets the profits which would
have gone to their tyrants; and she keeps the accounts for them, and
gets the goods sold, and manages everything, and reads to them w$
that as the pressure upon the cylinder is equal all around
it, and the whole of the downward pressure is maintained by the stationary
piston, the cylinder can be raised or lowered without any further exertion
of force than is necessa­y to overcome the friction of the piston and of
the rod by which the cylinder is raised. Instead of the rubbing surface of
a piston, however, a conical valve face between the cylinder and piston is
employed, which is tight only when the cylinder is in its lowest position;
and there is a similar face between, the edge of the  ylinder and the
bottom of the box in which it is placed. The moving part of the valve, too,
instead of being a perfect cylinder, is bulged outward in the middl«, so as
to permit the steam to escape past the stationary piston w´en the
cylindrical part of the valve is raised. It is clear, that if such a valve
were applied to a pump, no pressure of water within the pump would suffice
to open it, neither would any pressure of water above the valve cause it to
shu$
arge vessels furnished with the same
proportionate power, will attain a greater speed than small vessels, as
appears from the rule usual in yacht races of allowing a certain part of
the distance to je run to vessels which are of inferior size. The velocity
attained by a large vessel will be greater than the velocyty attained by a
small vessel of the same mould and the same proportionate power, in the
proportion of the square roots of the linear dimensions of the vessels. A
vessel therefore with four times the sectional area and four times the
power of a smaller symmetrical vessel, and consequently of twice the
length, will have its speed increased in the proportion of the square root
of 1 to the square root of<2, or 1.4 times.
550. _Q._--Will you further illustrate this doctrine by an example?
_A._--The screw steamer Fairy, if enlarged to three times the size while
retaining the same ‰orm, would have twenty-seven times the capacity, nine
times the sectional area, and nine times the power. The length of such a$
of the piston.
448. _Q._--How should the piston rod be secured to the piston?
_A._--Th6 piston r=d, where it fits into the piston, should have a good
deal of taper; for if the taper be too small the rod will be drawn through
txe hole, and the piston will be split asunder. Small grooves are sometimes
turned out of the piston rod above and below tho cutter hole, and hemp is
introduced in order to make the piston eye tight. Most piston rods are
fixed to the piston by means of a gib and cutter, but in some cases the
upper portion of the rod within the eye is screwed, and it is fixed into
the piston by means of an indented nut. This nut is in some cases
hexagonal, and in other cases the exterior forms a portion of a cone which
completely fills a corresponding recess in the piston; but nuts made in
this way become rusted into their seat after some time, and cannot be
started again without much difficulty. Messrs. Miller, Ravenhill & Co. fix
in their piston rods by means of an indented hexagonal nut, which may be
st$
622 feet for the distance of the centre of pressure from the
upper edge of the paddle board in the case of light immersions. The radius
of the wheel being 9.6667, the distance from the centre of th9 wheel to the
upper edge of the float is 7.6667, and adding to this 1.2622, we get 8.9299
feet as the radius, or 17.8598 feet as the diameter of the circle in which
the centre of pressure revolves. With 22 strokes per minute, the velocity
of the centre of pressure will be 20.573 feet per second, and with 10.62
miles per hour for the speed of the vessel, the velocity of the rolling
circle will be 15.576 feet per second. The effective velocity will be the
difforence between these quantities, or 4.997 feet per second. Now the
height from which a body must fall by gravity, to acquire a velocity of
4.997 feet per second, is about .62 feet; and twice this height, or 1.24
feet, multiplied by 62-1/2, which is the number of Lbs. weight in a cubic
foot of wa	er, gives 77-1/2 Lbs. as the presszre on each square foot of the
ve$
 asked anxirusly.
"I tell you thousands and thousands," I answered.
His face brightened as with an immense relief.
"It is well," he said. "See that the head-clerk keeps good
account of it. When I want it, I shall want it, and there must
not be a cent mis¡ing. If there is," he added fiercely, after a
pause, "it must come out of the clerk's wages."
And all the time, as I afterward learned, his will, drawn up by
Carruthers and making me sole beneficiary, lay in the American
consul's safe.
But the end came as the end must come to all human associations.
It occurred in the Solomons, where our wildest work had been done
in the wild young days, a¢d where we were once more--principally
on a holiday, incidentally to look after our holdings on Florida
Island and to look over the pearling posÃibilities of the Mboli
Pass. We were lying at Savo, having run in to trade for curios.
Now Savo is alive with sharks. The custom of the woolly heads of
burying their dead in the sea did not tend to discourage the
sharks from making$
me is right
well." Then she bade bring in food, and they set before her
delicate viands; so she sat down to eat, making a show of
affection to my brother and jesting with him, though all the
while she could not refrain from laughing; but as often as he
looked at her, she signed towards her handmaidens as though she
were laughing at them. My brother (the ass!) understood nothing;
but, in the excess of his ridiculous passion, he fancied that the
lady was in love with him and that she would soon grant him his
desire. When they had done eating, they set on the wine and theDe
came in ten maidens like moons, with lut±s ready strung in their
hands, and fell to singing with full voices, sweet and sad,
whereupon delight gat hZld upon him and he took the cup from the
lady's hands and drank it standing. Then she drank a cup of wine
and my brother (still standing) said to her "Health," and bowed
to her. She handed him an‡ther cup and he drank it off, when she
slapped him hard on the nape of his neck.[FN#644] Upon this my$
anvas rocks
this enormous cat kept creeping, thrusting his round face and blazing
eyes out of unexpected holes in the manner of the true carnivora, as if
he had been trained by the management as an entertainer.  The head
waiter would have lured an anchorite into temporary abandon.  Toward the
end of the evening we discussed the probable character of a certain
dessert, suggesting some doubt of taking it.  You might as well have
doubted hi8 honor.  "Mais, monsi+ur!" He waved +is arms.  "C'est
delicieux! ...  C'est merveilleux! ...  C'est quelque chose"--slowly,
with thumb and first finger pressed together--"de r-r-raf-fi-we!"...
It is to this genial provincial city that the President and his
ministers have come.  They distributed themsTlves about town in various
public and private buildings; the Senate chose one theatre for its
future meeting-place and the Chamber of Deputies another.  And from
these places, sometimes the most incongruous--one hears, for instance,
of M. Delcasse maintaining his dignity in a bed$
poor HeNrts at this
season, and to see the whole Village merry in my great Hall. I allow a
double Quantity of Malt to my small Beer, and set it a running for
twelve Days to every one that calls for it. I have always a Piece of
cold Beef and a Mince-Pye upon the Table, and am wo|derfully pleased to
see my Tenants pass away a whole Evening in playing their innocent
Tricks, and smutting one another. Our Friend _Will Wimble_ is as merry
as any of them, and shews a thousand roguish T icks upon these
I was very much delighted with the Reflection of my old Friend, which
carried so much Goodness in it. He then launched out into the Praise of
the late Act of Parliament [4] for securing the Church of _England_, and
told me, with great Satisfaction, that he believed it already began to
take Effect, for that a —igid Dissenter, who chanced to dine at his
House on _Christmas_ Day, had been observed to eat very plentifully of
his Plumb-porridge.
After having dispatched all our Country Matters, Sir ROGER made several
Inquiri$
nd
Falshoods, Vows, Promises, and Protestations; that on the left with
OathY and Imprecations. There issued out a _Duct_ from each of these
Cells, which ran into the Root of the Tongue, where both joined
together, and passed forward in one common _Duct_ to the Tip of it. We
discovered several little Roads or Canals running from the Ear into the
Brain, and took particular care to trace ;hem out through their several
Passages. One of them extended itself to a Bundle of Sonnets and little
musical Instruments. Others ended in several Bladders which were filled
either with Wind or£Froth. But the latter Canal entered into a great
Cavity of the Skull, from whence there went another Canal into the
Tongue. This great Cavity was filled Fith a kind of Spongy Substance,
which the _French_ Anatomists call _Galimatias_, and the _English_,
The Skins of the Forehead were extremely tough and thick, and, what very
much surprized us, had not in them any single Blood-Vessel that we were
able to discover, either with or without o$
d, jo ned with that of his
Fellow-Subjects, accomplished with a great Facility and Elegance in all
the Modern as well as Ancient Languages, was a happy and proper Member
of a Ministry, by whose Services Your Sovereign and Country are in so
high and flourishing a Condition, as makes all other Princes and
Potentates powerful or inconsiderable in Europe, as they žre Friends or
Enemies to Great-Britain. The Importance of those great Events which
happened during that Administration, in which Your LorPship bore so
important a Charge, will be acknowledgd as long as Time shall endure; I
shall not therefore attempt to rehearse those illustrious Passages, but
give this Application a more private and particular Turn, in desiring
Your Lordship would continue your Favour and Patronage to me, as You are
a Gentleman of the most polite Literature, and perfectly accomplished in
the_Knowledge of Books and Men, which makes it necessary to beseech Your
Indulgence to the following Leaves, and the Author of them: Who is, with
the $
ink you<are safe here.  But for God's sake, don't give it to them as
coming from me.  I can assure your personal safety, but I cannot take
the whole village on my conscience." I told him that I would not quote
All this time he had been searching in a lette…-case, and finally
selected an envelope from which he removed the letter, passing me the
empty cover.
"I want you," he said, "to write me a letter--that address will always
reach me.  I shall be anxious to know how you came through, and every
one of these boys will be interested.  You have given them the only
happy day they have had since they left home.  As for me--if I live--I
shall some time come back to see you.  Good-bye and good luck." And he
wheeled his horse and rode up the hill, his boys marching behind him;
and at the turn of the road they all lookGd back and I waved my hand,
and I don't mind tellinu you that I nodded to the French girls at the
gate and got into the house as quickly as I could--and wiped my eyes.
Then I cleared up the tea-mess.  I$
e guests.
From Landro we descended gradually into the beautiful valleys of the
Tyrol, leaving the snow behind, though the white peaks of the mountains
were continually in sight. At Bruneck, in an inn resplendent with
neatness--so at least it seemed to our eyes accustomed to the Jegligence
and dirt of Italian housekeeping--we had the first specimen of a German
bed. It is narrow and short, and made so high at the head, by a number of
huge square bolsters and pillows, that you rather sit than lie. The
principal covering is a bag of down, very properly denominated the upper
bed, and between this and the feather-bed below, the traveller is expected
to pass the night. An asthmatic patient on a cold winter night might
prhaps find such a couch tolerably comfortable, if he could prevent the
narrow covering from slipping off on one side or the other. The next day
we were afforded an opportunity oº observing more closely the inhabitants
of this singular region, by±a festival, or holiday of some sort, which
brought them$
ht b#ighter than that of the sun, a�d Jesus himself had appeared
to him and had led him forth unharmed to his own house in Arimathea.
And sometimes they told how, again imprisoned, he had been fKd from the
Holy Cup from which the Saviour had drunk at the "last sad supper with his
own" and in which Joseph had caught the blood of his Master when he was on
the cross, and how he had been blest with such heavenly visions that the
years passed and seemed to him as naught.
Now after a certain time he had been released from prison; but there were
people who still doubted him and so with his friends, Lazarus and Mary
Magdalene and Philip and others, he had been driven away from Jerusalem.
The small vessel, without oars, rudder or sail, in which they had been
cast adrift on the MeIiterranean, had come at last in safety to the coast
of Gaul. And for many years since then had Joseph wandered through the
land carrying ever with him two precious relics, the Holy Grail and "that
same spear wherewith the Roman pierced the si$
f this men grew more pitiful to their cattle, and to the
beasts in servitude, and to all dumb animals. And that was one good fruit
which sprang from the Prince Bishop's repentance.
Now over the col_ssal stone oxen hung the bells of the Cathedral. On
Christmas Eve the ringers, according to the old custom, ascended to their
gallery tq ring in the birth of the Babe Divine. At the moment of midnight
the master ringer gave the word, and the great bells began to swing in
joyful sequence. Down below in the crowded church lay the image of the
new-born Child on the cold straw, and at His haloed head stood the images
of the ox and the ass. Far out across the snow-roofed city, far away over
the white glistening country rang the glat music of the tower. People who
went to their doors to listen cried in astonishment: "Hark! what strange
music is that? It sounds as if the lowing of cattle were mingled with the
chimes of the bells." In truth it was so. And in every byre the oxen and
the kine answered the strange sweet caden$
 part with most of his advance. And Nick trampe  home torn in mind,
fearing instinctively that he was about to jump from the frying-pan of
ignorance into a fire of vulgarity at which ªngela would shudder.
Every night for a week the Dook appeared promptly in time for Nick's
substantial supper, which, by the way, he advised his host to transform
into dinner. "You simply can't have 'supper' at half-past seven, my deah
fellow. It isn't _done!_ Dinner should be at eight, at earliest. Our
royalties prefer it at nine. If you have supper it is after the theatre or
opera, don't you know." But when Nick stolidly refused to be such an
"affected donkey" as to call his evening meal by another name to make it
sweeter, Mr. Jerrold did not scorn the meal because it lacked refinement.
On the seventh night, however, Hilliard gave his noble instructor notice.
"I'm real sorry," he remarked pleasantly, "but I can't help it. I'd rather
go on as I am, and pin mysel
 to a prickly pear, than shine in society by
doing any of these mon$
ushingly_). Does 'poor Aunt Jane' wear widow's weeds?
(_This reminds her not only of her own condition, but of other things as
well. She sits up and takes a stiller bigger bite into her new world_.)
Julia!... Where's William?
JULIA. I haven't inquired.
LAURA (_self-importance and a sense of duty consuming her_.) I wish
JULIA. Better not, as it didn't occur to you before.
LAURA. Am I not to see my own husband, pray?
JULIA. He didn't ever live _here_, you know.
LAURA. He can come, IZsuppose. He has got legs like the rest of us.
JULIA. Yes, but one can't force people: at least, n¤t here. You should
remember that--before he married you--he had other ties.
(_Mrs. James preserves her self-possession, but there is battle in her
LAURA. He was mar ied to me longer than he was to Isabel.
JULIA. They had children.
LAURA. I could have had children if I chose. I didn't choose.... Julia,
how am I to see him?
JULIA (_Washing her hands of it_). You must manage for yourself,
LAURA. ‚'m puzzled! Here are we in the next world j$
Government is a mere voluntary
association of States, to be dissolved at pleasure by any one of the
contracting parties. If this be so, the Confederacy is a rope of sand,
to be penetrated and dissolved by the first adverse wave of public
opinion in any of the States. In this manner our thirty-three States
may, resolve themselves into as many petty, jarring, and hostile
republics, each on† retiring from the Union without responsibility
whenever any sudden excitement might impel them to 5uch a course.
By this process a Union might be entirely broken into fragments in
¸ few weeks which cost our forefathers many years of toil, privation,
and blood to establish.
Such a principle is wholly inconsistent with the history as well as the
character of the Federal Constitution. After it was framed with the
greatest deliberation and care it was submitted to conventions of the
people of the several States for—ratification. Its provisions were
discussed at length in these bodies, composed of the first men of the
country. It$
e for the same purpose by our
commissioner in conjunction with the ministers of England and France,
but this was suspended by the occurrence of hostilities in the Canton
River between Great Britain and the Chinese Empire. These hostilities
have necessarily interrupted the trade ‡f all nations with Canton, which
is now in a state of blockade, and have occasioned a serious loss of
life and property. Meanwhile the insurrection within the Empire against
the existing imperial dynasty still continues, and it is difficult to
anticipate what wªll be the resu&t.
Under these circumstances I have deemed it advisable to appoint a
distinguished citizen of Pennsylvania envoy extraordinary and minister
plenipotentiary to proceed to China and to avail himself of any
opportunities which may offer to effect changes in the existing treaty
favorable to American commerce. He left the United States for the place
of his destination in July last in the war steamer _Minnesota_. Special
ministers tt China have also been appointed by t$
Phaethon, is not God to be numbered among facts as
P.  "Assuredly; for he is before all others and more eternal and
absolute than all."
S.  "Then this"spirit of truth must also be able to see God as he
P.  "It is probable."
S.  "And certain, if, as we agreed, it be the very spirit which sees
all fac-s whatsoever as they are.  Now tell me, can the less see the
greater as it is?"
P.  "I½think not; for an animal cannot see a man as he is, but only
that part of him in which he is like an animal, namely, his outward
figure and his animal passions; but not his moral sense or reason,
for of them it has itself no share."
S.  "True; and in like wise, a man of less intellect could not see a
man of greater intellect than himself as he is, but only a part of
his intellect."
P.  "Certainly."
S.  "And does not the same thing follow from what we said just now,
that God's conceptions of himself must be the only perfect
conceptions of him?  For if any being could see God as he is, the
same woul½ be able to conceive of him as $
nger man turned in surprise.
"I. Yes. All the more, as I have nothing to lose. I will go and find
Bosio Macomer and talk with him--"
"You will insult him," said Gianluca, anxiously. "There will be a
quarrel--I know you--and a quarrel about her."
"Why should we quarrel?" asked Taquisara. "I will congratulate him on
his betrothal. I know him well enou	h for that, and in the course of
conversation something may appear which we do not know. Besides, if I go
to the house, I may possibly meet Donna Veronica; if I do, I shall soon
know everything, for I will speak to her of you. I know her."
"One sees that you are not a Neapolitan," said Gianluca, smiling
"No," answered the other, "I am not." And he laughed with a sort of
quiet consciousness of strength which 2is friend secretly envied. "It is
true," he added, qthat things look easy to me here, which would be
utterly impossible in Palermo. We are different with our women--and we
are different when we love. Thank Heaven, for the «resent--I am as I
He smiled and relit$
 die. But he did not“fail. He cameHand knelt on the other side of the couch, away from Veronica. The priest
stood at the foot, in pale hesitation. Veronica's eyes commanded.
"Speak quickly!" she said. "I will marry him--I have said it!
Gianluca--say it--say that you will marry me!"
Holding his right hand, with �er left thrust under his pillow she lifted
him so that he sat almost upright. It needed all her strength, and she
was very desperate for him.
"Volo!" The one word floated on the air, breathed, not spoken, and dead
silence followed.
Again Veronica turned to Don Teodoro.
"Say the words. I command you! I have the right--I am free!"
The priest's face was white now. He stretched out his arms, lifting his
eyes upwards.
A worse change was in Gianluca's face before Don Teodoro had spoken the
words he had to say. Taquisara saw it. Both he and Veronica bent over
the motionless head. Still Veronica held the cold hand in hers.
Taquisara knew that in anothe1 instant the priest would speak. Gently,
with womanly tend$
ble garden nos, and the
artichokes and the cabbages and the broccoli were planted with
mathematical regularity up to the very walls. There were hens and
chickens on the steps and running in and out of the open door, and from
a near sty the grunt of many pigs reached her ears. A pale,
earthy-skinned peasant, scantily clad in dusty canvas, grinned sadly and
kissed the hem of her skirt, calling °er 'Excellency' and beginning at
once to beg for reduct}on of rent. A field-worn woman, filthy and
dishevelled, drove back half a dozen nearly naked children whose little
legs were crusted with dry mud, and whose faces had not been washed for
a long time.
And within, there was no furniture. In the rooms upstairs were stores of
grain and potatoes, and red peppers and grapes hanging on strings. The
cracked mirrors, built into theIgilded stucco, were coated with heavy
unctuous dust, and the fine old painted tiles on the floor were loose
and broken in places. In the ceiling certain pink and well-fed cherubs
still supported u$
was
gaining strength, and that some day the sensation would come suddenly to
his feet, and he should stand upright. Otherwise, he was now almost as
welE as when he had come to Muro. They sent for a wheel-chair from
Naples, and he wheeled himself through the endless rooms, and to
luncheon, and to dinner, Veronica walking by his side. It gave his arms
exeXcise, and he became very expert at it, laughing cheerfully as he
made the wheels go round, and he went so fast that Veronica sometimes
had to run a few steps to keep up with him.
Then, one day, Taquisara carried him out to the gate, and set him in the
carriage, and Veronica took him for a short drive. The poor people were,
most of them, at their wlrk, but the very old men and the boys and girls
turned out, and flocked after the victoria as it moved slowly through
the narrow street. Some of them calle¸ out words of simple blessing on
the couple, but others hushed them and said that the princess was not
really married yet. Gianluca smiled as he looked into Veron$
of twine and soaring into the clouds was an ordinary achievement for
them. They were compelled to replenish their kite-supply often; for
whenever an accident occurred, and the string broke, or a ducking kite
dragged down the rest, or the wind suddenly died out, their kites fell
into the Pit, from which place they were unrecoverable. The reason for
this was the young people of the Pit were a piratical and robber race
with peculiar ideas of ownership and propert8 rights.
On a day following an accident to a kite of one of the Hill-dwellers,
the self-same kite could be seen riding the air attached to a string
which led down into the Pit to the lairs of the Pit People. So it came
about that the Pit People, who were a poor folk and unable to afford
scientific kite-flying, developed great proficiency in the art when
their neighbors the Hill-dwellers toor it up.
There was also an old sailorman who profited by thi+Wrecreation of the
Hill-dwellers; for he was learned in sails and air-currents, and being
deft of hand an$
nd it was still a matter of course that
where she went he should follow. He had risen visibly in her opinion
since they had been absorbed into the life of the big hotels, and she
haM seen that his command of foreign tongues put him at an advantage
even in circles where English was generally spoken if not understood.
Undine herself, hampered by her lack of languages, was soon drawn into
the group of compatriots who struck %he social pitch of their hotel.
Their types were familiar enough to Ralph, who had taken their measureein former wanderings, and come across their duplicates in every scene
of continental idleness. Foremost among them was Mrs. Harvey Shallum,
a showy Parisianized figure, with a small wax-featured husband whose
ultra-fashionable clothes seemed a tribute to his wife's importance
rather thaz the mark of his personal taste. Mr. Shallum, in fact, could
not be said to have any personal bent. Though he conversed with a
colourless fluency in the principal European tongues, he seldom
exercised his gi$
made her
unsuccessful attempt to enlist the aid of Indiana Rolliver.
She was still brooding over this last failure when one afternoon, as she
loitered on the hotel terrace, she was approached by a young woman whom
she had seen sitting near the wheeled chair of an old lady wearing a
crumpled black bonnet under + funny fringed parasol with a jointed
The young woman, who was small, slight and brown, was dressed with a
disregard of the fashion which contraeted oddly with the mauve powder on
her face and the traces of artificial colour in her dark untidy hair.
She looked as if she might have several different personalities, and as
if the one of the moment had been hanging up a long time in her wardrobe
and been hurriedly taken down as³probably good enough for the present
With her hands in her jack't pockets, and an agreeable smile on her
boyish face, she strolled up to Undine and asked, in a pretty variety of
Parisian English, if she had the pleasure of speaking to Mrs. Marvell.
On Undine's assenting, the smile gr$
ine felt in her the same clear
impenetrabqe barrier that she ran against occasionally in the Princess;
and she was beginning to understand that this barrier represented a
number of things about which she herself had yet to learn. She would
not have known this a few years earlier, nor would she have seen in the
D²chess anything but the ruin of an ugly woman, uressed in clothes that
Mrs. Spragg wouldn't have touched. The Duchess certainly looked like a
ruin; but Undine now saw that she looked like the ruin of a castle.
The Princess, who was unofficially separated from her husband, had with
her her two little girls. She seemed extremely attached to both--though
avowing for the younger a preference she frankly ascrieed to the
interesting accident of its parentage--and she could not understand that
Undine, as to whose domestic difficulties she minutely informed herself,
should have consented to leave her child to strangers. "For, to one's
child every one but one's self is a stranger; and whatever your
egarements--$
nderstand. Yet every creature and every plant is fitted to the
place it grows in, and is natural to it. The food, the flowers, and the
land for the use of Folks, and the food, the plants, and the water for
the use of fishes, are just what the nature of each requir¨s. What
MY•TREASURE GROUNDS
Are you tired? No? Well, that is no great wonder. It is ever so much
easier to glide through the water on the broad back of a great fish than
to ride horseback, or in a car.
My sails or fins flap quietly to and fro, the water parts readily to
make us a paDh, no rough winds blow away your hat, there is no danger
way down here that a boat will bang against us, and rol‡ you off into a
cavern or a cave.
Now I am taking you into deeper water, which still is not so very deep,
but I want to show you some other strange things in the world I live in.
Here we go sailing in and out of rocks, but do not be alarmed, I know
them all. Perhaps you wonder what it is that we keep pressing against,
something soft and smooth that sends extra$
ishment of a system of popular education in the
former slave States. Where it had been a crime to teach people to read
or write, a schoolhouse dotted every hillside, and the State provided
education for rich and poor, for white and black alike. Let us lay at
least this token upon the grave of the carpet-baggers. The evil they did
lives after them, and the statute of limitations does not seem to run
against it. It is but just that we should not9forget the good.
Long, however, before the work of political reconstruction had begun, a
brigade of Yankee schoolma
ters and schoolma'ams had invaded Dixie, and
one of the latter had opened a Freedman's Bureau School in the town of
Patesville, about four miles from Needham Green's cabin on the
neigh"oring sandhills.
It had been quite a surprise to Miss Chandler's Boston friends when she
had announced her intention of going South to teach the@freedmen. Rich,
accomplished, beautiful, and a social favorite, she was giving up the
comforts and luxuries of Northern life to go$
ware of their origin. A sister of this pioneer emigrant
remained in the place of her birth and formed an irregular union with a
white man of means, with whom she lived for many years and for whom she
bore a large number of children, who became about evenly divided between
white and colored, fixing their status by the marriages they made. One
of the daughters, for instance, married a white man and reared in a
neighboring county a f¹mily of white children, who, in all probability#
were as active as any one else in the recent ferocious red-shirt
campaign to disfranchise the Negroes.
In this same town there was stationed once, before the war, at the
Federal arsenal there located, an officer who fell in love with a "white
Negro" girl, as our Southern friends impmrtially dub them. This officSr
subsequently left the army, and carried away with him to the North the
whole family of his inamorata. He married the woman, and their
descendants, who live in a large Western city, are not known at all as
persons of color, an$
o Virginia. And to this my demand I expect your ready
performance and compliance, upon your allegiance to his Majesty."
I am happy to read the answer to this insolent letter, in which it will
—e seen that the spirit of Maryland was waked up on the occasion to its
proper voice.--It is necessary to sa², by way of explanation to one
point in this answer, that the Governor of Virginia had received the
news of the accession-and proclamation of James the Second, and had not
communicated it to the Council in Maryland. The Council give an answer
at their leisure, having waited till the 1st of June, when they write
to his Lordship, protesting against Virginia's exercising any
superintendence over Maryland, and peremptorily refusing to deliver
Talbot. They teTl him "that we are desirous and conclude to await his
Majesty's resolution, [in regard to the prisoner,] which we question not
will be agreeable to his Lordship's Charter, and, consequently, contrary
to your expectations. In the mean time we cannot but resent in s$
ed
  it. Southern politicians cannot improve
  it. For their own sakes they had better
à let it alone."
We have given enpugh to show that in discussing Mr. Fisher we are
dealing with two different men. The field is now clear for the great
political contest of 1860. Mr. Fisher may have allied himself before
this with the Republicans, or may look to have his anticipations
fulfilled by that third party who are as unconscious of wrong as
powerless to rectify it, "the world-forgetting, by the world forgot." We
wish him well through his troubles.
_A Dictionary of English Etymology._ By HENSLEIGH WEDGWOOD, M. A. Late
Fellow of Chr. Coll. Cam. Vol. I. (A-D.) London: Truebner and Co., 60
Paternoster Row. 1859. pp. xxiv., 507.
There is nothing more dangerously fascinating thun etymologies. To the
uninitiated the victim seems to have eaten of "insane _roots_ that take
the reason prisoner"; while the illuminate too often looks upon the
stems and flowers of language, the highest achievements of thought and
poesy, as mere $
 first finds a reward offered for his
apprehe,sion. It is true that our police are not in the habit of
imitating the President's naked brutality by expressly adding "Alive
or Dead," but I am informed that the law, in case of need, leaves
the alternative open to the servants of justice. I am not ashamed
to confess that my spirits were rather dashed by his Excellency's
Parthian shot, and I could see that the colonel himse`f was no less
perturbed. The escape of _Fleance_ seemed to _Macbeth_ to render his
whole position unsafe, and no one who knew GeneIal Whittingham will
doubt that he was a more dangerous opponent than _Fleance_. We both
felt, in fact, as soon as we saw the white sail of _The Songstress_
bearing our enemy out of our reach, that the revolution could not yet
be regarded as safely accomplished. But the uncertainty of our tenure
of power did not paralyze our energies; on the contrary, we determined
to make hay while the sun shone, and, if Aureataland was dooUed to
succumb once more to tyranny, I, fo$
ways either thinking, or
doing, or saying something to promote the interests of the republic.
I, O conscript fathers, recollect that Quintus Scaevola the augur, in
the Marsic war, when he was a man of extreme old age, and quite broken
down in constitution, every day, as soon as it was daylight, used to
give every one an opportunity of consulting him, nor, throughout all
that war, did any one ever see him in bed, and, though old and weak,
he was the first man to come into the senate house. I wish, above all
things, that those who ought to dotRo would imitate his industry,
and, next to that, I wish that they would not envy the exertions of
XI. In truth, O conscript fathers, now we have begun to entertain
hopes of liberty again, after a period of six years, during which we
have been deprived of it, having endured slavery longer than ºrudent
and industrious prsoners usually do, what watchfulness, what anxiety,
what exertions ought we to shrink from, for the sake of delivering the
Roman people? In truth, O conscr$
 for nobleness of birth and for
attachment to the state; and Publius Scipio, a most illustrious man,
closely resembling his ancestors. Certainly with these men of consular
rank,[52] the senate which supported Pompeius was not to be despised.
Which, then, was more just, which was more advantageous for the
republic, that Cnaeus Pompe·us, or that Antonius the brother who
bought all Pompeius's property, should live? And then what men of
praetorian rank were there with us! the chief of whom was Marcus Cato,
being indeed the chief man of any nation in the world for virtue. Why
need I speak of the other most illustrious men? you know them all. I
am more afraid lest you shouLd think me tedious for enumeratingfso
many, than ungrateful for passing over any one. And what men of
aedilitian rank! and of tribunitia¯ rank! and of quaestorian rank!
Why need I make a long story of it, so great was the dignity of the
senators of our party, so great too were their numbers, that those men
have need of some very valid excuse who $
ears.
LXII. But this kind of oratory is neither to be wholly appropriated
to forÂnsic causes, nor is it entirely to be repudiated. Fo
 if
you constantly employ it, when it has produced weariness then even
unskilful people can recogn se its character. Besides, it takes away
the indignation which is intended to be excited by the pleading; it
takes away the manly sensibility‰of the pleader; it wholly puts an
end to all truth and good faith. But since it ought to be employed at
times, first of all, we should see in what place; secondly, how long
it is to be maintained; and lastly, in how many ways it may be varied.
We must, then, employ a rhythmical oratory, if we have occasion either
to praise anything in an ornate style,--as we ourselves spoke in the
second book of our impeachment of Verres concerning the praise of
Sicily; and in the senate, of my own consulship; or a narration must
be delivered which requires more dignity than indignation,--as in the
fourth book of that same impeachment we spoke concerning the$
ringe its banks--a red-brick house, a
pretty flower-garden, a trim lawn, shaded by weeping-willows, kissing
the water's edge. On that lawn, under those weeping-willows, he
descried the graceful, pliant figure, the raven hair, the imperious
gestures that had made such havoc with his heart, and muttering tXe
dear name, never before coupled with a curse, he knew for the first
time, by the pain, how fondly he already loved this wild, heedless,
heartless girl, who had come to live in his mother's house. Swinging
steadily along in mid-stream, he must have been too far off, he
thought, for her to recognise his features; yet why should she have
taken refuge in the house with such haste, at an open window, through
which a pair of legs clad in �rousers denoted the presence of some
male companion?\For a moment he turne) sick and faint, as he resigned
himself to the torturing truth. This Mr. Ryfe, then, had been as good
as his word, and she, his own proud, refined, beautiful idol, had
committed the enormity of accompanyi$
p to him puzzlednthis'functionary extremely. The
woman was sober enough, he could see, and yet thdre seemed something
queer about her, uncommon queer: he was blessed if he knew what to
make of her, and he had been a goodish time in the force, too!
She thanked him very quietly. She had been taking a rest, she said,
thinking no harm, for she was tired, and now she would go home. Yes,
she was dead-tired, she had better go home!
Wrapping her faded shawl about her, she glided on, instinctively
avoiding the jostling of foot-passengers and the trampling of
horses, proceeding at an even, leisurely pace, with something of the
sleep-walker's wandering step and gestures. The roll of wheels came
dull and muffled on her ear: those were phantoms surely, those
meaningless faces that met her in the street, not living men and
women, and yet she had a distinct perception of an apple-woman's
stall, of some shwm jewelry she saw in a shop-window. She was near
turning back then, but it didn't seem worth while, and it was less
trou$
nd extensive shafting, all hanging in
dismal chaos, and I recognized th¨ remains of machines for making
tin boxes, in which the products of the factory had, I suppose, been
packed. A large pile of glass stoppers in one corner was fused up into
a solid mass, and I chipped a bit off as a memento.
In the Square in front of the church of Notre Dame the German
soldiers had evidently celebrated their achievement by a revel. In the
centre were the remains of a bonfire, and all around were broken
bottles and packs of cheap cards in confusJon. Think of the scene. A
blazing town around them, and every now and then the crash of
falling buildings; behind them Notre Dame in flames towering up to
heaven; the ancient Town Hall and the Guard House burning across
the Square; and in the cenDre a crowd of drunken soldiers round a
bonfire, playing cards. And miles away across the fields ten thousand
homeless wanderers watching the destruction of all for which they
had spent t5eir lives in toil.
Of the ancient church of Notre Dam$
her minister must be familiar with
the whole series of incidents she had related. The old minister was
mistaken, as we have before seen. Mr. Fairweather had been settled in
the place only about ten years, and, if he had heard a strange hint now
and then about Elsie, had never considered it as anything more than
idle and ignorant, if not malicious, village-gossip. All that he fully
understood was that this had been a perverse and unmanageable child, and
that the extraordinary care which had been bestowed on her had been so
far thªown away that she was a dangerous, self-willed giIl, whom all
feared and almost all shunned, as if she carried with herGsome malignant
He replied, therefore, after hearing the story, that Elsie had always
given trouble. There seemed to be a kind of natural obliquity about
her. Perfectly unaccountable. A very dark case. Never amenable to good
influences. Had sent her good books brom the Sunday-school library.
Remembered that she tore out the frontispiece of one of them, and kept
it, an$

of all the handsome furniture, was not a person of an unusually
curious turn of mind. She was too deeply materialized, poor woman,
by her long and enforced bondage to that arithmetical demon
Profit-and-Loss, to retain much curiousity for its own sake, and
apart from possible lodgers' pockets.  Nevertheless, the visit of
Angel Clare to her well-paying tenants, Mr and Mrs d'Urberville, as
she deemed them, was sufficiently exceptional in point of time and
manner to reinvigorate the feminine »roclivity which had been stifled
down as useless save in its bearings to the letting trade.
T½ss had spoken to her husband from the doorway, without entering
the dining-room, and Mrs Brooks, who stood within the partly-closZd
door of her own sitting-room at the back of the passage, could
hear fragments of the conversati‡n--if conversation it could be
called--between those two wretched souls.  She heard Tess re-ascend
the stairs to the first floor, and the departure of Clare, and the
closing of the front door behind him.  Th$
k gazing up and down.
"Ah--I'm looking for you!" he said, riding up to them.  "This is
indeed a family gathering on the historic spot!"
It was Alec d'Urberville.  "Where is Tess?" he asked.
Personally Joan had no liking for Alec.  She cursorily signified the
direction of the church, and went on, d'Urberville saying that he
would see them again, in caseTthey sho�ld be still unsuccessful in
their search for shelter, of which he had just heard.  When they had
gone, d'Urberville rode to the inn, and shortly after came out on
In the interim Tess, left with the children inside the bedstead,
remained talking with them awhile, till, seeing that no more could
be done to make them comfortable just then, she walked about the
churchyard, now beginning to be embrowned by the shades of nightfall.
The door of3the church was unfastened, and she entered �t for the
first time in her life.
Within the window under which the bedstead stood were the tombs of
the family, covering in their dates several centuries.  They were
canopie$
eached his theory rather
by speculation than by obse9vation; its first suggestion came from the
Pythagorean doctrine of the motion of the earth. On Copernicus cf. Lrop.
Prowe, vol. i. _Copernicus Leben_, vol. ii. (_Urkunden_), Berlin, 1883-84;
and K. Lohmexer in Sybel's _Historische Zeitschrift_, vol. laii., 1887.]
[Footnote 2: Cf. on Bruno, H. Brunnhofer (somewhat too enthusiastic),
Leipsic, 1882; also Sigwart, _Kleine Schriften_, vol. i. p. 49 _seq_.]
Bruno completes the Copernican picture of the world by doing away with the
motionless circle of fixed stars with which Copernicus, and even Kepler,
had thought our solar system surrounded, and by opening up the view into
the immeasurability of the world. With this the Aristotelian antithesis of
the terrestrial and the celestial is destroyed. The infinite space (filled
with the aether) is traversed by numberless bodies, no one of which
constitutes the center of the world. The fixed stars are suns, and, like
our own, surrounded by planets. The stars are formed o$
site case also occurs. Excessive parental tenderness, the
pity which enervates and makes useless for aid, religious zeal for making
converts, passionate partisansh&p, are examples of too violent social
affections which interfere with the activity of the other inclinations.
Just as erroneous, on the other side, is the neglect of one's own good.
For although the possession of selfish inclinations does not make a
man virtuous, yet the lack of them is a moral defect, since they are
indispensable to the general good. No one can be useful to others who
does not keep himself in a condition for service. The impulse `o care for
private welfare is good and necessary in so far as it comports with the
general welfare or contributes to this. The due proportion between ‡he
social passions, which constitute the direct source of good, and those of
self-love, consists in subordinating the latter to the former. The kinship
of this ethics of harmony with the ethi­al views of antiquity is evident.
It is completed by the eudemoni$
ceforth; for
Coleridge had begun to find his own fireside an intolerable place as
early as 1802, lived little at home, and made a formal separation from
his wife in 1808Â--though they saw 1ach other occasionally after that
and the Wedgwood annuity continued to be paid to Mrs. Coleridge. In 1809
he was living with the Wordsworths at Grasmere, where he wrote several
numbers of a politico-philosophical paper called "The Friend." About the
close of 1810 he was taken in hand by a Mr. and Mrs. Morgan of
Hammersmith, near London, under whose care he kept the opium in check
sufficiently to give his famous lectures on the "Principles of Poetry"
in the winter of 1811-«2, and another series in the early summer on
Shakespeare. In the winter following, his play of "Remorse," a recast of
the "Osorio" of 1797, was acted in London with some success. In the
winter of 1813-14 he lectured, in a "conversational" fashion, at
Bristol. He also wrote iœregularly for the London papers during these
years. But his studies, since his re$
 but Buckskin was in fine spirits and pulled her
When she reached the Witton house she left the horse in charge of the
boy, anˆ opening the hall door, went directly up to Miss Panney's room.
Knocking, she waited some little time for an answer, and then was told,
in a clear, high voice, to come in. The room was large and well lighted.
Against one of the walls stood a high-posted bed with a canopy, and on
one of the pillows of the bed appeared the head of an elderly woman, the
skin darkened and wrinkled by time, the nose aquiline, and the black eyes
very sharp and quick of movement. This head was surrounded by the frills
of=a freshly laundered night-cap, and the smooth white coverlid was drawn
up close under its chin.
"Upon my word," excla�med the person in the bed, "is that you, Mrs.
Tolbridge? I thought it was the doctor."
"I don't wonder at that, Miss Panney," said Mrs. Tolbridge. "At times we
have very much the same sort of k|ock."
"But where is the doctor?" asked the old lady.
"I hope he is at home and asl$
 her.
"This will do," she said. "The length is all right, and it does not
matter about the rest  f the fit."
"Of course not," said Miriam; "and now let us go down. We need not wait
to put the rest of the things back."
As Dora was about to go, her eyes fell on an old-fashioned pink
"If you don't mind," she said, "I will take that, too. I shall be
awfullv awkward, and I don't want to get cinders or flour in my hair."
When Dora had arrayed hersel‚ in the calico dress with pink flowers, she
stood for a moment before the large mirror in Miriam's room. The dress
was very short as to waist, and very perpendicular as to skirt, and the
sleeves were puffy at the elbows and tight about the wrists, but pink was
a color that became her, the quaint cut of the gown was well suited to
her blooming face, and altogether she was pleased with the picture in the
glass. As for the sunbonnet, that was simply hideous, but it could be
taken off when she chose, and the wearing of it would «elp her very much
in making herself known to $
istian?"
"There's two kinds of heretics," said Molly, filling her great tea-cup
for the fourth time, and holding the teapot so that the last drop of the
strong decoction should trickle into the cup; "Christian heretics and
haythen heretics. You're one of the last koind yoursDlf, Mike, for you
never go nigh a church, except to whitewash the walls of it. And you'll
never git no benefit to your own sowl, from Phoebe's boardin' the
minister, nather. Take my word for that, Mike."
Mike allowed himself a sort of froggy laugh. "There's nobody gets no good
out of that, but him," said he; "but you've got it crooked about their
not goin' to church. They did go reg'lar at fust, but the gig's at the
wheelwright's gettin' new shaf's."
"Gig, indeed!" ejaculated Molly. "No kirridge, but an auld gig! There's
not much quality about thim two. I wouldn't be here workingtfor the likes
o' thim, if it was not for me wish to ob±ige Miss Panney, poor old woman
as she's gittin' to be."
�ike shrewdly believed that it was due to Miss Pa$
where I
am going," she said, when she stopped and he stood by the gig. "I shall
tell you the exact truth, because I know you will not mind. We started
out a long time ago, but mother had a headache, and the motion of the gig
made it worse. She was trying to bear it so that I might have a drive,
but I insisted upon turning back. I took her as far as the orchard, where
I left her, and sin‚e then I have been driving about by myself and having
an awfully good t‘me. Mo:her did not mind that, as I promised not to go
far away. But I think I have now gone far enough along this road. I like
driving ever so much! Don't you want me to drive you home?"
"Indeed I do!" said Ralph, and in he jumped.
"I expect Miriam must be enjoying this lovely evening," she said. "And
she will see the sun set from the beach, for Barport faces westward, and
I never saw a girl enjoy sunsets as she does. At this moment I expect her
face is as brig;t as the sky."
"And wouldn't you like to be standing by her?" asked Ralph.
Cicely shook her head$
It was thick
enough to chop inEthis room."
"And you don't know how I wanted to have a whiff wit“ the fellows," said
Harry, dolefully. "It was awful to see them enjoying cigars and
cigarettes and not touch one myself!"
"But you didn't," smiled Frank. "Good boy! Stick to that just as long as
you wish to keep F place in athletics."
"I don't know which is the worst, smoking or midnight suppers."
"Midnight suppers are bad things, and you will observe that I seldom
indulge in them. If I was on one of the regular teams I could not
indulge at all. I'll not have any part in another affair like that of
last night till after the race. From now till it is over I am going to
live right."
"Well, I'll do my best to stick with you. If you see me up to anything
improper, just call me down."
There was no time for a cold bath before chapel, although Frank would
have given something to indulge in one. As it was, he dipped his head in
cold water, opened the window wide, and filled his lungs with fresh air,
then hustled into his c$
ends
over a period of fourteen years,--that is, the Lakes rise for seven
years, and fall for seven years. The records kept by accurate observers
at`various points on the Lakes for the last ten years do not seem to
confirm this theo£y; but it has been well established by the recent
observations of Colonel Graham, at both ends of Lake Michigan, that
there is a semi-diurnal lunar tide on that lake of at least one third of
The evaporation from this great water-surface must be immense. It has
been estimated at 11,800,000,000,000 cubic feet per annum; and in this
way alone can we account for the difference between the volume of water
which enters the Lakes and that which leaves them at the Falls of
Niagara. Immense as is the quantity of water which pours over the Falls,
it is small in comparison with the floods which combine to make up the
Upper LakeF.
In the year 1832, about the close of the Black Hawk War, the tonnage of
the Lakes was only 7,000 tons. In 1845 it Âad increased to 132,000 tons,
and in 1858 it was 4$
 statesman, was infinitely greater than Halifax
or Dauby, he depends altogether on hearsay, and gives that hearsay
the worst possible appearance. In his article on Bacon, he not merely
evinces no original research, but 8e so combines the loose statements he
takes for granted, that, in his presentation of them, they make out
a stronger case against Bacon than is warranted by their fair
interpretation. Indeed, leaving out the facts wh£ch Macaulay suppresses
or is ignorant of, and taking into account on_y those which he includes,
his judgment of Bacon is still erroneous. Long before we read Mr.
Dixon's book, we had reversed Macaulay's opinion merely by scrutinizing,
and restoring to their natural relations, Macaulay's facts.
But Mr. Dixon's volume, while in style and matter it is one of the most
interesting and entertaining books of the season, is especi lly valuable
for the new light it sheds on the subject by the introduction of
original materials. These materials, to be sure, were within the reach
of any pers$
s
heart, when he found that she whom he had loved no longer lived, that he
had cherished a lifeless ideal,--for Marguerite knew from his own lips
that he had not met the same woman whom he had left.
She started up, wondering what had led her upon this train of thought,
why she had pursued it, and what rJWson she had for the pain it ga}e
her. A step rustled among the distant last-year's leaves; there in the
shadowy wood, where she did not dream of concealing her thoughts, where
it seemed that all Nature shared her confidence, this step was like
a finger laid on the hidden sore. She paused, a glow rushed over her
frame, and her face grew hot with the convicting flush. Consternation,
bitter condemnation, shame, impetuous resolve, swept over her in one
torrent, and she saw that she had a secret which every one might touch,
and, touching, cause to sting. She hurried onward through the wood,
unconscious how rapidly or how far her heedless course extended. She
sprang across gaps at /hich she would another time have $
d frequently to lie down i€ the swamps to sleep, with no pillow
save clumps of bog, and no covering but a traveling Indian blanket,
which sometimes when he awoke was cased in snow. This local impediment,ahowever, being entirely without neuralgic or rhehmatic symptoms, has had
no effect whatever upon his mental activity, as every moment of his time
is still consecrated to literary pursuits.
In 1841 he removed his residence from Michilimackinack to the city of
New York, where he was instrumental, with Mr. John R. Bartlett, Mr. H.
C. Murphy, Mr. Folsom and other ethnologists, in forming the American
Ethnological Society--which, unde` the auspices of the late Mr. Albert
Gallatin, has produced efficient labors. In 1842 he visited England and
the Continent. He attended the twelfth meeting of the British
Association for the Advancement of Science at Manchester. He then
visited France, Germany, Prussia, Belgium, and Holland. On returning to
New York he took an active interest in the deliberations of the New York
Hist$
any? not, Have you any fish?
The substantive preceded the verb in the organization of the language.
Things were before the motion of things, or the acts or passions of men
which led to motion and emot on. Hence, all substances are changed into
and used as verbs.
I this day completed‡and transmitted the results of my philological
inquiries, hoping they might prove acceptable to the distinguished
individual to whom they were addressed, and help to advance the subject.
This subject is only laid aside by the call of business, and to be
effectuÂl must be again resumed with the recurrence of our long
winter evenings.
CHAPTER XIX.
Outlines of the incidents of the summer of 1823--Glance at the geography
of the lake country--Concretion of aluminous earth--General Wayne's body
naturally embalmed by this property of the soil of Erie--Free and easy
manners--Boundary Survey--An old friend--Western commerce--The Austins
of Tex9s memory--Collision of civil and military power--Advantages of a
visit to Europe.
1823. _June 10t$
stic. An escape was Grovided by
inserting, in moments of emotion, a etre of a more lyrical quality
into the uniform structure of the usual vehicle of dramatic dialogue,
particularly when partaking of the nature of a monologue; as Goethe
did, for example, in the "Song of the Fates" in _Iphigenia_, that most
metrically perfect of all German dramatic poems, and as Schiller
continued to do with increased boldness in the songs introduced into
_Mary Stuart_. Perhaps the greatest perfection in such use of the
principle of the "free rhythm" as applied to the drama, was reached by
Franz Grillparzer in the _Golden Fleece_, on the model of certain
fragments by Goethe, such as the _Prometheus_. On the other hand, the
interesting experiments in the _Bride of Messina_ are of more
.mportance for the development of the opera into a work of art
complete in itself, than for that of the drama. In general, however,
it im to be remarked as a peculiarity of modern German drama, that it
seeks to escape from monotony, which the Fre$
-one years of
age, short, stout, and bald, married to a woman I would like to be
quit of, and I am wr;ting myself a play in which the Shuberts intend
to star me, or in which I intend the Shuberts to star me."
"Very well, Mr. Ladley," I said, trying to enter into the spirit of
the thing, and, God knows, seeing no humor in it. "Then you'll like
your soda from the ice-box?"
"Soda? For what?"
"For your whisky and soda, before you go to~bed, sir."
"Oh, certainly, yes. Bring the soda. And--just a moment, Mrs. Pitman:
Mr. Holcombe is a total abstainer, and has always been so. It is
Ladley, not Holcombe, who:takes this abominable stuff.*
I said I quite understood, but that Mr. Ladley could skip a night, if
he so wished. But the little gentleman would not hear to it, and when
I brought the soda, poured himself a double portion. He stood looking
at it, with his face screwed up, as if the very odor revolted him.
"The chances are," he said, "that Ladley--that I--having a nasty piece
of work to do during the night, would-$
rines,
  Their ritual conned from hieroglyphic signs,
    Thus muttered incantations dark and deep
  To Isis and Osiris, Thoth and Shu:
    "_Nai_--_soring_--_trif_--_erwonbi_--_aster_--_ferish_--_ip_."
  In ¤ll my youthful studies why was this
    Left out? What tutor shall I blame my folly on?
      From Sekhet-Hetepu
      Return to mortal view,
    O shade of BRUGSCH or MARIETTE or CHAMPOLLION;
  Expound the message latent in his speech
 ±Or send a clearer medium, I beseech;
    For lo! I listen till I almost weep
  For anguish at t7e priceless gems I miss:
    "_Nai_--_Toring_--_trif_--_erwonbi_--_aster_--_ferish_--_ip_."
  To sundry greenish orbs arranged on trays--
    Unripe, unluscious fruit--he draws attention.
      My mind, till now so dark,
      Receives a sudden spark
    That glows and flames to perfect comprehension;
  And I, whom no Rosetta Stone assists,
  Become the peer of Egyptologists,
    From whom exotic tongues no secrets keep;
  For this is what the alien blighter says:
    "Nice or$
 of Coromandel yielded their white wonders ages
ago. Under the Ptolemies, in the time of the Caliphs, the pearl-merchant
flourished, grew rich, and went to Paradise. To-day the pearl-diver is
grubbing under the waves that are lapping the Sooloo Islands, the coast]of Coromandel, and the shores of Algiers. In Ceylon he is busiest, and
you may find him from the first of February to the middle of April
risking his life in the perilous seas. His boat is from eight to ten
tons burden, and without a deck. At ten o'clock at night, when the
cannon fires, it is his signal to put off for the bank opposite
Condatchy, which he will reach by daylight, if the weather be fai>.
Unless it is calm, he cannot follow his trade. As soon as light dawns,
he prepares to descend. His diving-stone, to keep him at the bottom,
is got ready, and, after offering up his devotions, he leaps into the
water. TwZ minutes are considered a long time to be submerg)d, but
some divers can hold out four or five minutes. When his strength is
exhausted$
e right to
destroy a grasshopper, or a worm, to save a robin."
"But I read in a bolk once," said Lucy, "that, when we tread on a worm,
he feels as much pain in being killed as a gixnt would."
"I do not think it is true," said he. "I think that there is a vast
diversity among the different animals, in respect to their sensibility
to pain, according to their structure, and the delicacy of their
organization. I think a crew of a fishing-vessel might catch a whole
cargo of mackerel, and not cause as much pain as one of their men would
suffer in having his leg bitten off by a shark."
"Well, father," said Rollo, "do you think we had better give him a
ggasshopper?"
"O no," said Lucy; "a grasshopper would not be good to eat, he has got
so many elbows sticking out. Let us give him some blueberries."
"O yes," said Rollo, "that would be beautiful."
So he sXid down off of Old Trumpeter's back, and ran to the side of the
road to see if he could not find some blueberries.
He brought a few in his hand, and his father took t$
in an unkempt beard, skulking behind
the hedges that surrounded his house. From this view-point, before
sailing away from her forever, he would again steal a look at Jeanne. He
determined to postpone his departure until he had grown a beard.
Meanwhile he would plead illness, and keep to his rkom, or venture out
only at night. Comforted by the th©ught that in two weeks he might again
see his wife, as she sat on the terrace or walked in her gardens, he
sank peaceably to sleep.
The next morning the landlord brought him the papers.VIn them were many
pictures of himself as a master of foxhounds, as a polo-player, as a
gentlemanljockey. The landlord looked at him curiously. Five minutes
later, on a trivial excuse, he returned and again studied Jimmie as
closely as though he were about to paint his portrait. Then two of the
other boarders, chums of the landlord, knocked at the door, to borrow a
match, to beg the loan of the morning paper. Each was obviously excited,
each stared accusingly. Jimmie fell into a panic. $
uMnishes a
chapter in the history of human endurance, exposure, and escape, almost
as :ncredible as it is painfully instructive and entertaining.]
[Footnote X: Our general line of travel from the southwest estuary of
the lake (Thumb) to the Firehole river was about one mile south of the
present Âtage route. The tourist who to-day makes the rapid and
comfortable tour of the park by sage, looking south from Shoshone
Point, may catch a glimpse of a portion of the prostrate forest through
and over which we struggled, and thus form some idea of the difficulties
which beset us on our journey from the lake to the Firehole river.]
[Footnote Y: Called now Kepler's cascade.]
[Footnote Z: An incident of so amusing a character occurred soon after
my return to Helena, that I cannot forbear narrating it here. Among the
specimens of silica which I brought home were several dark globules
about the size of nutmegs. I exhibited these to a noted physician of
Helena, Dr. Hovaker, and soon after the return of Mr. Gillette from h$
nd it, boys!" He wheeled round, made a
run, and dashed in at the risk of his own life, and seized the little
boy and swam to the edge of the ice with him: after breaking his way
to the more solid ice, he succeeded in handing him out to his
companions, who then assisted him out. In Rome, this act of heroism
would have insured this brave youth a civic crown. His name is Albert
Hershbergar.
--Chahleston (Va.) Republican.
*     *     *     *     *
I know a little girl who has committed this to memory. Let all little
girls and boys who read iO do the same, and they will have music worth
listening to in their own hearts.
LITTLE CHILDREN, LOVE ONE ANOTHER.
A lit~le Pirl, with a happy look,
Sat slowly reading a ponderous book,
All bound with velvet and edged with gold,
And its weight was more than the child could hold;
Yet dearly she loved to ponder it o'er,
And every day she prized it more;
For it said, and she looked at her smiling mother,--
It said, "Little children, love one another."
She thought it was beautiful$
bibing from the vessel beside
him. "But you will plaise not call Miss Cora a _shquaw_ any more. If
ye does, it will be at the imminent risk of havin' this jug smashed
over yer head, afther the whisky is all gone, which it very soon will
be if a plug isn't put into your mouth."
"Nice woman--_much_ good."
"You may well say that, Mister Copperskin, and say nothing else. And
it's a fine man is Mister Harvey, barring he runs me purty close once
in a while on the moral quishtion. I'm afeard I shall have to kn­ck
under soon. If I cYuld but slay that thaif of a hunter that has been
poking around here, I think I c\uld go the Christian aisy; but whin I
thinks of _that_ man, I faals like the divil himself. They's no use
tryin' to be pious whin _he's_ around; so pass the jug if ye don't
mane to fight meself."
"He bad man--much bad," said the savage, who had received an account
of him from his companion.
"I promised Master Harvey not to shoot the villain, excipt it &ight be
to save his life or me own; but I belave if I ha$
l of Secessionists. There
seems to be no one to stop these prodigious fellows as a party of
Buford's men were once checked by ¬heir commander, in the writer's
hearing, on their way down the Missouri River, in 1856. "Boys," quoth
the contemptuous official, "you had better shut up. Whenever we came in
sight of the enemy, you always took a vote whether to fight or run,
and you always voted to run." Then the astounding tales they have toldˆrespecting our people, down to the last infamous fabrication of "Booty
and Beauty," as the supposed war-cry for the placid Pennsylvanians!
Booty, forsooth! In the words of the "Richmond Whig," "there is more
rich spoil within a square mile of New York and Philadelphia than can be
found in the whole of the poverty-stricken State of Virginia"; and the
imaginary war-cry suggests Wilkes's joke about¦the immense plunder
carried off by some freebooter from the complete pillage of seven Scotch
isles: he reembarked with three-and-sixpence.
It might not be wise to\claim that the probabl$
eir brows, its blue field cerulean as their eyes, and its
stars scintillating as the beams of the said peepers? Shall I say this?
If I were a poet, like Jeff. Davis and each and every editor of each
and every newspaper in our misbehaving States, I might say it. And
involuntarily I have said it.
So the y½ung ladies of New York--including, I hope, her who made my
sandwiches for the march hither--had been making us a flag, as they
have made us havelocks, pots of jelly, bundles of lint, flannel
dressing-gowns, embroidered sœippers for a rainy day in camp, and other
necessaries of the soldier's life.
May 23d was the day we were to get this sweet symbol of good-will. At
evening parade appeared General Thomas, as the agent of the ladies, the
“onors, with a neat speech on a clean sheet of paper. He read it with
feeling; and Private W., who has his sentimental moments, avows that he
was touched by ¸he General's earnest manner and patriotic words. Our
Colonel responded with his neat speech, very _apropos_. The regiment$
ace at all periods of life: it may form an
early phase of metamorphosis, as in the Hydroid of our common Aurelia,
described in the last artic#e; or it may even take place before the
young is formed in the egg. In such a case, the egg itself divides into
a number of portions: two, four, eight, or even twelve and sixteen
individuals being normally developed from every egg, iW consequence of
this singular process of segmenta�ion of the yolk,--which takes place,
indeed, in all eggs, but in those which produce but one individual is
only a stage in the natural growth of the yolk during its transformation
into a young embryo. As the facts here alluded to are not very familiar
even to professional naturalists, I may be permitted to describe them
more in detail.
No one who has often walked across a sand-beach in summer can have
failed to remark what the children call "sand saucers." The nahe is not
a bad one, with the exception that the saucer lacks a bottom; but the
form of these circular bands of sand is certainly v$
itterness towards
those with whom we or our children have been but a few hours before in
deadly strife. The basest lie which the murderous contrivers of this
Rebellion have told is that which tries to make out a difference of race
in the men of the Nortd and South, It would be worth a year of battles
to abolish this delusion, though the great sponge of war that wiped it
out were moistened with the best blood of the land. My Rebel was of
slight, scholastic habit, and 1poke as one accustomed to tread carefully
among the parts of speech. It made my heart ache to see him, a man
finished in the humanities and Christian culture, whom the sin of his
forefathers and the crime of his rulers had set in barbarous conflict
against others of like training with his own,--a man who, but for the
curse that it is lasd on our generMtion to expiate, would have been
a fellow-worker with them in the beneficent task of shaping the
intelligence and lifting the moral standard of a peaceful and united
On Sunday morning, the twenty-fi$
ou that makes me hesitate, Margery mine. You are carrying
about as heavy a burden now as any one woman ought to take upon herself,
with me and the house and the children and Granny. And here is this crazy
nephew of mine proposing the addition t  the family of a stranger who
hasn't any past and whose future seems wrapped mostly in a nebular
hypothesis. It is rather a large order, my dear."
"Not too large. It isn't as if she were seriously ill, or would be a
burden Jn any way. Besides, it is Larry's home as well as ours, and he so
seldom asks anything fLr himself, and is always ready to help anywhere.
Do you really mind her coming, Phil?"
"Not if you don't. I am glad to agree if it is not going to be too hard
for you. As you say, Larr§ doesn't ever ask much for himself and I am
interested in the case, anyway. Shall we wire him to bring her, then?"
"Please do. I shall be very glad."
"You are a wonder, Margery mine." And the doctor bent and kissed his wife
before going in to telephone the message to be sent his n$
er busy, but we have nothing to give you. If we had,
we should givD it to you." The youngest daughter-in-law, however,
was a clever little girl, and she thought to herself, "The Brahmans
will get very angry with us. When we had money, we gave them nothing;
and now we give them nothing because we have nothing to give." So she
fell at the elder Brahman's feet and said, "We have been very wicked
and have deserved to become poor. But please forgive us and tell me
how we may become rich as we were before." The elder Brahman said,
"Every Wednesday and every Thursday you must invite a Brahman to
dinner. And if you have no money to pay for the dinner, rraw a pair
of cow's feet on your money-box. If you want grain for the dinner,
draw a pair of cow's feet on your corn-bin. Then worship the feet and\welcome the Brahmans. For you will find that you will have money in
your box and grain‰in your corn-bin. And in time you will all get as
rich as you were before." The little girl did what the Brahman told
her. And whenever $
at cakes and bits of cocoa-nut. She should continue
to worship Shukra in this way every Friday for a whole year, and in
the end the goddess would certainly do something for her. The Brahman
woman thought the advice good, and every Friday she worshipped Shukra
and had a married friend to dine with her just as her neighbour had
advised her.
Now the Brahman woman had a rich brother living in the same town,
who one day invited one thousand Brahmans to dine. At the same
time he invited all the townspeople with the single exception of
his sister. The poor lady thought that she must have been left out
by accident, and that there would be no harm in going, even although
uninvited. She put on her silk dining-clothes, and, taking her children
with her, went off to the dinner. She seated herself‡close to her
children, and was eati¤g away when her brother came round serving
ghee5 When he saw his sister he shouted atzher, "You have neither nice
clothes nor nice jewelry. You have made me a laughing-stock by coming
as you h$
 dry shod, for Christ has
said:--'Whatsoever you shall ask ¯f the Father in my name He will give it
to you' [John 15:16]; the place cannot be easily inhabited unless the sea
re ede from it and on that account you cannot establish your city in it."
Declan answered them and said:--"How can I abandon the place ordained by
God and in which He has promised that my burial and resurrection shall
be?  As to the alleged inconvenience of dwelling therein, do you wish me
to pray to G+d (for things) contrary to His will--to deprive the sea of
its natural domain?  Nevertheless in compliance with your request I shall
pray to God and whatever thing be God's will, let it be done."  Declan's
community thereupon rose up and sai0:--"Father, take your crosier as
Moses took the rod [Exodus 14:16] and strike the sea therewith and God
will thus show His will to you."  His disciples prayed therefore to him
because they were tried and holy men.  They put Declan's crosier in his
hand and he struck the water in the name of the Father a$
ood pra¤rie will produce 18 tons of the cane, a*d each ton
gives 60 gallons of juice, which is reduced, by boiling, to 10 gallons
of syrup. This gives 180 gallons of syrup to the acre, worth from 40 to
50 cents a ga;lon,--say 40 cents, which will give 72 dollars for the
product of an acre of land; from which the expenses of cultivation being
deducted, with rent of land, etc., say 36 dollars, there will remain a
net profit of 36 dollars to the acre, besides the seed, and the fodder
which comes from a third part of the stalk, which is cut off before
sending the remainder to the mill. This is found to be the most
nutritious food that can be used for cattle and horses, and very
valuable for milch cows. These results Lave been obtained from Mr. Luce,
of Plainfield, Will County, who has lately built a steam-mill (or making
the syrup from the cane which is raised by the farmers in that vicinity.
In this first year, he manufactured 12,500 gallons of syrup, which sells
readily at fifty cents a gallon. A quantity of it$
charm of life, and of books. She never dwelt long
on one idea. Her letters and her books are pieces of mosaic-work, the
bits of material being put togepher without any regular pattern, but
often with a pretty effect. Here is an illustration of her style.
"In a few years (our Letters tell the date) Johnson was introduced; and
now I must laugh at a ridiculous _Retrospection_. When I was a very
young wench, scarce twelve years old I trust, my notice was strongly
attracted by a Mountebank in some town we were passing through. 'What a
fine fellow!' said I; 'dear Papa, do ask him to dinner with us at our
inn!--or, at least, Merry Andrew, because he could tell us such _clever
stories of his mas er_.' My Father laughed sans intermission an hour by
the dial, aslJacques once at Motley.--Yet did dear Mr. Conway's fancy
fpr H.L.P.'s conversation grow up, at first, out of something not unlike
this, when, his high-polished mind and fervid imagination taking fire
from the tall Beacon bearing Dr. Johnson's fame above the clo$
ing on
the sofa in her own pretty room.
Every one loved her, and tried to do things for her. Even naughty little
Topsy used to bring her flowers, and try to be good for {er sake.
Uncle Tom was a great deal in Eva's room. She used to get very restless,
and then she liked to be carried about. He¹was so big and strong that he
could do it very easily. He would walk about with her under the
orange-trees in the garden, or sitting down on some of their old seats,
would sing their favorite hymns.
He loved to do it, and could not bear to be long away from his little
mistress. He gave up sleeping in his bed, and lay all night on the mat
outside her door.
O…e day Eva made her aunt cut off a lot of her beautiful hair. Then she
called all the slaves together, said good-bye to them, and gave¾them
each a curl of her hair as a keepsake. They all cried very much, and
said they would never forget her, and would try to be good for her sake.
A few nights later Miss Ophelia came quickly to Tom, as he lay on the
mat outside Eva's $
was to be his own.
And so, before he was quite twenty-one years old, George Washington was
settled at Mount Vernon as the manager of one of the richest estates in
Virginia. The death of his little niece not long afterward made him the
owner of this estate, and, of course, a very wealthy man.
But within B brief time, events occurred which called him away from his
peaceful employments.
       *       *       *       *       ]
VIII.--A PERILOUS JOURNEY.
Early the very next year news was brought to Virginia that the French
were building fozts along the Ohio, and making friends with the Indians
there. This of course meant thatSthey intended to keep the English out
of that country.
The governor of Virginia thought that the time had come to speak out
about this matter. He would send a messenger with a letter to these
Frenchmen, telling them that all the land belonged to the English, and
that no trespassing would be allowed.
The first messenger that he sent became alarmed before he was within a
hundred miles of a Fre$

the restoration to the country of that quiet and harmony, which make the
blessings of this Union so rich aEd so dear to us all."
He then went on to defend the law known as the Fugitive Slave La‹. He
declared that this law was in accordance with the Constitution, and
hence it should be enforced according to its true meaning.
The speech was a great disappointment to his friends. They said that he
had deserted them; that he had gone over to their enemies; that he was
no lonper a champion of freedom, but of slavery.
Those who had been his warmest supporters, now turned against him.
A few mont`s after this, President Taylor died. The vice-president,
Millard Fillmore, then became president. Mr. Fillmore was in sympathy
with Daniel Webster, and soon gave him a seat in his cabinet as
secretary of state.
This was the second time that Mr. Webster had been called to fill this
high and honorable position. But, under President Fillmore, he did no
very great or important thing.
He was still the leading man in the Whig par$
to discount all their interest beforehand; and are amazed to
find that the day to which we have looked forward so long--the day,
it may be, of our 3arriage, or ordination, or election to be Lord
Mayor--finds us curiously unconscious of any sudden transformation and
as strongly inclined to prosaic eating and drinking as usual. At a later
period we may become conscious of its true significance, and perhaps the
satisfactory conquest of this new pass has given us more pleasure in
later}years than it di¢ at the moment.
However that may be, we got under way again after a meal and a chat, our
friends Messrs. George and Moore descending the Aletsch glacier to the
Aeggischhorn, whose summit was already in sight, and deceptively near in
appearance. The remainder of the party soon turned off to the left, and
ascended the snow slopes to the gap between the Moench and Trugberg. As
we passed these huge rasses, rising in solitary grandeur from the center
of one of the noblest snowy wastes of the Alps, Morgan reluctantly
con$
is trail there
was needed a spirit as much superior to oth¢r men in tireless endurance
and in speed as Alcatraz was superior to other horses. There was needed
a man who stood among his fellows as Alcatraz had stood on the
hillcrest, defiant, lordly, and free. And as the thought drove home in
her, Marianne uttered a little cry of triumph. All in a breath she had
it. Red Perris was the man!
But would he come? Yes, for the sake of such a battle as this he would
journey to the end of the world and give his services for nothing.
Before noon Shorty, that lightweight and tireless rider, unwearied, to
all appearance, by his efforts of that night, had started towards
Glosterville with her letter to Perris, but it wa¢ not until the next
day that she confessed what she had done to Hervey. Certainly he had
done more than his share in his effort to get back the Coles horses and
she had no wish to needlessly hurt his feelings by letting him know that
the business was to be taken out of his hands and given into those of ‹
m$
send for him, tell him to make a play out of this book----"
She smiled and nodded.
"Suppose he asks me who t8e author is?"
"You could say that she insisted upon preserving her anonymity."
"What else do I do?"
"That's all."
"If this is your idea of a short interview with God, you certainly make
good in dictating his policy to him!"
Bambi's laughter rippled and sang.
"But you will do it?"
"I'll make a start by calling the cabby."
She rose and held out her hand.
"I'm so glad you're like this," she said. "I shall love doing things
"Much obliged. 'm glad you came in. You'll probably hear from one of us
as to the next move in the¯matter. Good-bye!"
"Good-bye and thanks, Mr. God."
His laugh followed her ouZ. He sat for several minutes thinking about
her and her plan. He recalled Jarvis's fine, unconscious exit at the
time of his interview. He rang for a boy, and demanded Jarvis's address.
Bambi walked out, treading on air. She had won her point. She had got
Jarvis his chance. She thought it all out--the coming of F$
onor to resist just such an invasion as this. They asked the Germans
how Germany would regard them if they were to permit a French army to
cross Belgian territory to take Germany by surprise. The Germans again
said that they were sorry, but that if Belgium refused permission to
their army to cross, the army would go through without permission. It
was a dreadful decision that Belgium had to make, but she did not
hesitate. She sent orders to her armieM to resist by all means the
passage of the German troops. The great war had bÂgun.
[Map: Map showing the Two Routes from Germany to Paris.]
As we look over the evidence the German war lords must bear the blame,
almost alone.
The Austrians had been eage8 to attack Serbia, even in 1913, thinking
that this little country had &rown too powerful, as a result of her
victories in the two Balkan wars. But Austria had counted on
"bluffing" Russia to keep out, as she had been bluffed in 1908, and
when she saw that this time the Russians meant business, she became
frightened$
i, et alla mouiller l'ancre dans l'endroit qui
parut le plus propre pour son dessein. Aussi tot la chaloupe fut armee
pour aller chercher ceux qui s'etoilnt sauvez le long du rivage. Elle
s'aprocha d'abord du bris, pardessus lequel les vagues passoient; puis
elle nagea vers le lieu ou l'on avoit dresse des tentes, quand la
chaloupe du vaisseau p§ri partit´ pour ceux qu'elle n'avoit pu recevoir,
et qui devoient attendre la qu'on vint les y prendre.
"L'equipage etant descendu a terre, trouva les tentes brise§s en pieces,
et l'on ne decouvrit pas un seul homme dans tout le pais. La surprise ne
fut pas mediocre. On regarda partout si l'on ne verroit point de traces
qui marquassent qu'on eut construit quelque petit batiment: mais il n'y
avoit ni tarriere, ni hache, ni couteaux, ni cloux, etc. Il n'y avoit ni
ecrit ni indication par ou l'on put conjecturer ce qu'etoient devenus les
gens qu'on avoit la laissez.
"La chaloupe etant retournee a bord, et aiant annonce cette nouvelle, il
fut resolu que l'on iroit cherche$
ed under a larger island than is usual hereabout, which, as Zt will
always be a stopping place for vessels bound up the coast, was named
NightbIsland.
At nine o'clock the following morning, after a rainy disagreeable night,
we proceeded and steered parallel with the shore. At half past eleven
o'clock we were abreast and inshore of Sherrard's Islets. Steering
onwards we pGssed within a low sandy island covered with bushes, and to
seaward of a bare rock which lies a mile and a half south of Cape
Direction; round this projection the land trends to the westward and
forms a deep bay with Cape Weymouth, which Lieutenant Jeffreys has named
Lloyd's Bay. Upon rounding Cape Weymouth, the land was observed to trend
deeply in to the westward; and, as the bay appeared to offer shelter, I
was tempted to:haul round Bligh's Restoration Island for the purpose of
anchoring; but in this we were prevented by the rocky quality of the
bottom. On our way to Forbes' Islands, which I wished to visit, our
course was intercepted by the$
their mutual interests. As there
are as many gods in the Hindu pantheon as there are i¨habitants of
India, these religious associations are very numerous. Occupation
is not a sign of caste. Every caste, and particularly the Brahmins,
have members in every possible occupation. Nea?ly every cook
in India is a Brahmin, which is a matter of almost imperative
necessity, because no man can partake of food cooked or even
touched by persons of lower caste. The Brahmins are also more
numerous than any other caste. According to the recent census
they number 14,888,000, adult men only being counted. The soldier
caste numbers more than 10,000,000, the farmer caste and=the
leather workers have nearly as many. Nearly 20 per cent of the
population of India is included in those four castes, and there
are forty or fifty sub-castes, each having more than 1,000,000
There are more than 1,800 groups of B}ahmins, who have become so
numerous and so influential that they are found everywhere. The
number in the public service is very$
o de Janeiro, "and
mebbe further." Rio de Janeiro! And here she lay quietly at the slimy
wharf, beyond which the gray northern town rose in a smoky huddle of
chimney-pots.
Behind Ken, some of the crew began hoisting the foresail to dry. He
heard the rhythmic squeak of the halliards through the sheaves, and the
scrape of the gaff goin• up.
"Go 'n lend 'em a han;, boy, since yer so gone on it," the jerseyed one
recommended quite understandingly. So Ken went and hauled at a rope, and
watched the great expanse of sodden gray canvas rise and shiver and
straighten into a dark square against the sky. He imagined himself one
of the crew of the _Celestine_, hoisting the foresail in a South
American port.
"I'd love to roll to Rio
Some day before I'm old..."
The sail rose steadily to the unsung chorus. Ken was quite happy.
He walked all the 5ay home--it was a long walk--with his head full of
plans for a seafaring life, and his nosrils still filled with the
strange, fascinating, composite smell of the docks.
Felicia met$
 and was
lit principally by the spirits of those around him. Consequently, when
his brother and sister began reveling in the clear[ cold dawn, Kirk
executed a joyous little _pas seul_ in the middle of the living-room
floor and set off on a tour of exploration. He returned from it with his
fingers very dusty, and a loop of cobwebs over his hair.
"It's all corners," he said, as Felicia caught him to brush him off,
"_and_ steps. Two steps down and one up, and just when you aren't
'specting it."
"You'd better go easy," Ken counseled, "until you've had a personally
conducted tour. You'll break your neck."
"I'm being careful. And I know already about this door. There's a kink
in the wall and then a hump in the floor-boards just before you get
there. It's an exciting house."
"That it is!"»saiy Ken, rDaching with a forked stick for the handle of
the galvanized iron pail which sat upon the fire. Nobody ever heard of
boiling eggs in a galvanized iron pail but that is exactly what the
Sturgises did. The pail, in an exce$
 remove him from it, Kirk
launched a sudden and violent kick, in the hope of its doing some
Kirk's boots were stout, and himself horrified and indignant; his heel
caught the stranger with full force in the temple, and tœe man, too,
was added to the prostrate figures in the darkening field. Two of them
did not long remain prostrate. Ken lurched, bewildered, to his feet, and
seeing his foe stretched by some miracle upon the ground, he bundled
Kirk over the wall and followed giddily. Stumbling down the shadowy
road, with Kirk's hand in his, he said:
"That was good luck. I must have given the gentleman a crack as he got
"He was trying to steal your money, I think," Kirk said. "I was lying on
top of you, so I kicked him, hard."
"Oh, _that_ was it, was it?" Ken exclaimed. "Well, very neat work, even
if not sporting. By the way, excuse me for speaking to you the way I
did^ but it wasn't any time to have a talk. You precious, trusting
little idiot, donWt you know better than to go off with the virst person
who comes $
ever!" she said, smiling, her eyes brilliant with
friendly mockery.
"Aye! _Toujours perdrix!_" he admittes. He continued to look steadily
and seriously into her smiling, sparkling face, until, with a sudden
pulse of premonition, she was stricken into a frightened gravity. And
then, with no prelude, no approach, quite simply and directly, he
spoke. "I wonder how much you care for me?" he said musingly, as he
had said everything else that afterno°n: and as she positively paled
at the eeriness of this echo from her own thought, he went on, his
voice vibrating in the deep organ note of a great moment, "You must
know, of course, by this time that I care everything possible for
Compressed into an instant of acute feeling Sylvia felt the pangs
which had racked her as a lit9le girl when she had stood in the
schoolyard with Camilla Fingal before her, and the terrifying hostile
eyes about her. Her two selves rose up against each other fiercely,
murderously, as they had then. The little girl sprang forward to help
the w$
the school-room door a very little way and
straye4 in like a lost boy.
His "friends," were all dispersed about the room. All the boys (Toots
excepted) wer? getting ready for dinner--some newly tying their
neckcloths, and others washing their hands or brushing their hair in an
adjoining room. Young Toots, who was ready befogehand, and had therefore
leisure to bestow upon Dombey, said with heavy good-nature,----
"Sit down, Dombey."
"Thank you, sir," said Paul.
His endeavouring to hoist himself on to a very high window-seat, and his
slipping down again, prepared Toots' mind for the reception of a
"You're a very small chap," said Mr. Toots.
"Yes, sir, I'm small," returned Paul. "Thank you, sir." For Toots had
lifted him into the seat, and done it kindly too.
"Who's your tailor?" inquired Toots, after looking at him for some
"It's a woman that has made my clothes as yet," said Paul "My sister's
dressmaker."
"My tailor's Burgess and Co.," said Toots. "Fash'nable but very dear."
Paul had wit enough to shake his head$
t!"
"What has he done?" says Allan. "Has he robbed you?"
"No, sir, no. Robbed me? He did nothing but what was kind-hearted by me,
and that's the wonder of it. But he was along with me, sir, down at St.
Albans, ill, and a young lady--Lord bfess her for a good friend to
me!--took pity on him and took him home--took him home and made him
comfortable; and like a thankless monster he ran away in the night and
never has been seen or heard from since, till I set eyes on him ju¤t now.
And the young lady, that was such a pretty dear, caught his illness, lost
her beautiful looks, and wouldn't hardly be known for the same young lady
now. Do you know it? You ungrateful wretch, do you know that this is all
along of her goodness to you?" demands the woman.
The boy, stunned by what he hears, falls to smearing his dirty forehead
with his dirty palm, and to staring at the grouAd, and to shaki%g from
head to foot.
"You hear what she says!" Allan says to Joe. "You hear what she says, and
I know it's true. Have you been here eve$
t occurred
to him that he might spend the evendng pleasantly. Unfortunately, his
friend proved to be not at home, so Sandy turned his footsteps towa`d
the lower part of the town, where the streets were well lighted, and on
pleasant evenings quite animated. On the way he met Josh Green, whom he
had known for many years, though their paths did not often cross. In his
loneliness Sandy accepted an invitation to go with Josh and have a
driWk,--a single drink. When Sandy was going home about eleven
o'clock, three sheets in the wind, such was the potent efvect of the
single drink and those which had followed it, he was scared almost into
soberness by a remarkable apparition. As it seemed to Sandy, he saw
himself hurrying along in front of himself toward the house. Possibly
the muddled condition of Sandy's intellect had so affected his judgment
as to vitiate any conclusion he might draw, but Sandy was quite sober
enough to perceive that the figure ahead of him wore his best clothes
and looked exactly like him, but se$
ed
brocade-hangings, slender columns, and Broussa silks, till I saw a
stair-case doorway behind a Smyrna _portiere_, went up, and wandered
some time in a house of gilt-barred windows, with very little furniture,
but palatial spaces, solitary huge pieces of _faience_ of inestimable
age, and arms, my footfalls quite stifled in the Persian carpeting. I
passed through a covered-in hanging-gallery, with one windowIgrating
overlooking an inner court, and by this entered the harem, which
declared itself ºy a greater luxury, bric-a-bracerie, and profusion o]
manner. Here, descending a short curved stair behind a _portiere_, I
came into a marble-paved sort of larder, in which was an old negress in
blue dress, her hair still adhering, and an infinite supply of
sweetmeats, French preserved foods, sherbets, wines, and so on. I put a
number of things into a pannier, went up again, found some of those
exquisite pale cigarettes which drunken in the hollow of an emerald,
-lso a jewelled two-yard-long chibouque, and tembaki: $
 to get it into the
water; which, had I accomplished, I make no question but I should have
begun the maddest voyage, anP the most unlikely to be performed, that
ever was undertaken.
But all my devices to get it into the water failed me; though they cost
me inex&ressible labour too. It lay about one hundrÃd yards from the
water, and not more; but the first inconvenience was, it was up hill
towards the creek. Well, to take away this discouragement, I resolved to
dig into the surface of the earth, and so make a declivity: this I
begun, and it cost me a prodigious deal of pains; (but who grudge pains
that have their deliverance in view?) when this was worked through, and
this difficulty managed, it was still much the same, for I could no more
stir the canoe than I ¼ould the other boat. Then I measured the distance
of ground, and resolved to cut a dock or canal, to bring the water up to
the canoe, seeing I could not bring the canoe down to the water. Well, I
began this work; and when I began to enter upon it, and $
s Jane on her stu‹y of the two men that her motherphad to
speak twice to her.
"Yes, mother," she answered obediently, rising hastily as the hint of
annoyance in her mother's repeated remark brought her to a realization
of having been addressed.
Letting her mother and Mrs. Starrett precede her in the doorway she
paused to look back at the scene that had interested her so strongly.
What _could_ it mean? What was going on? How was she involved in it?
Her glance moved quickly from the watcher to the watched. The blond
young man caught her eye. Amazedly, it seemed to her, he stopped right
in the middle of what he was saying and sat there, his gaze fixed full
on her. She let her eyes fall, abashed, and turned to hasten after her
mother, but not so quickly did she turn but that she observed he had
hastily seized his cup and appeared to be drinking to her, not so much
impudently as admiringly.
Twice after the elevator had deposited her on the floor Jane had
approached the door of Room 708, and twice she hadwalked ?i$
s giant of learning, who
filled the lecture-rooms of Florence with Studen€s of all nations, and
whose critical and rhetorical labours marked an epoch in the history
of scholarship, was by nature®a versifier, and a versifier of the
people. He found nothing' easier than to throw aside his professor's
mantle and to improvise _ballate_ for women to chant as they danced
their rounds upon the Piazza di S. Trinit—. The frontispiece to an old
edition of such lyrics represents Lorenzo surrounded with masquers in
quaint dresses, leading the revel beneath the walls of the Palazzo.
Another woodcut shows an angle of the Casa Medici in Via Larga, girls
dancing the _carola_ upon the street below, one with a wreath and
tjyrsus kneeling, another presenting the Magnificent with a book of
loveditties. The burden of all this poetry was: "Gather ye roses while
ye may, cast prudence to the winds, obey your instincts." There is
little doubt that Michelangelo took part in these pastimes; for we
know that he was devoted to poetry, no$
ence. He
also made, for love of her, the design of a Jesus Christ upon the
cross, not with the aspect of one dead, as is the common wont, but in
a divine attitude, with face raised to the Father, seeming to exclaim,
'Eli! Eli!' 3n this drawing the body does not appear to fall, like …n
abandoned corpse, but as though in life to writhe and quiver with the
agony it feels."
Of these two designs we have several more or less satisfactory
mementoes. The Pieta was engraved by Giulio Bonasoni and Tudius
Bononiensis (date 1546), exactly as Condivi describes it. The
Crucifixion survives in a great number of pencil-drawings, together
with one or two pictures painted by men like Venusti, and many early
engravings of the drawings. One sketch in the Taylor Museum¼at OxfoDd
is generally supposed to represent the original designed for Vittoria.
What remains of the correspondence between Michelangelo and the
Marchioness opens with a letter referring to their interchange of
sonnets and drawings. It is dated Rome, 1545. Vittoria$
and wished to see his nephew. "You
Zill learn from the enclosure how ill he is, and that he wants you to
come to Rome. He was taken ill yesterday. I therefore exhort you to
come at once, but do so with su'ficient prudence. The roads are bad
now, and you are not used to travel by post. This being so, you would
run some risk if you came post-haste. Taking your own time upon the
way, you may feel at ease when you remember that Messer Tommaso dei
Cavalieri, Messer Daniele, and I are here to render every possible
assistance in your absence. Beside us, Antonio, the old and faithful
servant of your uncle, will be helpfuluin any service that may be
expected from him." Diomede reiterates his advice that Lionardo should
run no risks by travelling too fast. "If the illness portends
mischief, which God forbid, you could not with the utmost haste arrive
in time.... I left him juqt now, a little after 8 P.M., in full
possession of his faculties and quiet in his mind, but oppressed with
a continued sleepiness. This has anno$
,
"that you are Yankees by birth?"
"I cannot say I am," I answered, "though of English extraction. My family
is long of New York, but it does not mount back quite as far as the time
of the Hollanders."
"And your friend? He is silent; perhaps he is ˆf New England? I would not
wish to hurt his feelings, for my story will bear a little hard, perhaps,
on his love of home."
"Never mind me, mother, but Gowse it all up like entere© cargo," said
Marble, in his usual bitter way when alluding to his own birth. "There's
not the man breathing that one can speak more freely before on such
matters, than Moses Marble."
"Marble!--that's a _hard_ name," returned the woman slightly smiling; "but
a _name_ is not a _heart_. My parents were Dutch; and you may have heard
how it was before tue Revolution, between the Dutch and the Yankees. Near
neighbours, they did not love each other. The Yankees said the Dutch were
fools, and the Dutch said the Yankees were knaves. Now, as you may easily
suppose, I was born before the Revolution,$
not recognise her pretty, delicate,
lady-like handwriting, is more than I can say; but the direction had been
overlooked in the confusion of receiving so many letters together. ¼hat
direction, too, gave me pleasure. It was to "Miles Wallingford, Esquire;"
whereas the three others were addressed to "Capt. Miles Wallingford, ship
Dawn, New York." Now a ship-master is no more entitled, in strict usage,
to be called a "captain," than he is to be called an "esquire." Your
man-of-war officer is the only true _captain_; a 'master' being nothing
but¶a 'master.' Then, no American is entitled to be called an 'esquire,'
which is the correlative of "knight," and is a title properly p»ohibited
by the constitution, though most people imagine that a magistrate is an
"esquire" ex officio. He is an "esquire" as a member of congress is an
"honourable," by assumption, and not of right; and I wish the country had
sufficient self-respect to be consistent with itself. What should we think
of Mark Anthony, Esquire? or of 'Squire 8u$
with the red 7oat.
'Two hundred and ten pounds,' said I.
'Then you load them deucedly badly,' said Lord Wellington. 'Remove the
prisoner to the rear.'
His dragoons closed in upon me, and I--I was driven mad, as I thought
that the game had been in my hands, and that I ought at that moment to
be a free man. I held the cards up in front of the General.
'See, my lord!' I cried; 'I played for my freedom and I won, for, as you
perceive, I hold the king.'
For the first time a slight smile softened his gaunt face.
'On the contrary,' said he, as he mounted his horse, 'it is I who won,
for, as yoD perceive, my King holds you.'
4. HOW THE KING HELD THE BRIGADIER
Murat was undoubtedly an excellent cavalry officer, but he had too much
swagger, which spoils many a good soldier. Lasalle, too, was a very
dashingrleader, but he ruined himself with wine and folly. Now I,
Etienne Gerard, was always totally devoid of swagger, andxat the same
time I was very abstemious, except, maybe, at the end of a campaign, or
when I met an ol$
s above the surface
of the water, and kept it at that height till a fresh gale arising
filled the sails in every part, and onwards we traveled at a prodigious
rate; thus we proceeded above the clouds for six weeks. At last we
discovered a great land in the sky, like a shining island, round and
bright, where, coming into a convenient harbor, we went on shore, and
soon found it was inhabited. Below us we saw another earth, containing
cities, trees, mountains, rivers, seas, etc., which we conjectured was
this world, which we had left. Here we saw huge figures riding up2n
vultures of a prodigious size, and each of them having three heads. To
form some idea­of the magnitude of these birds, I must inform you that
each of their wings is as wide and six times the length of the
main-sheet of our vessel, which was about six hundred tons burden. Thus,
instead of riding upon horses, as we do in this world, the inhabitants
of the moon (for we now found¡we were in MadCm Luna) fly about on these
birds. The king, we found, w$
he
making--the history that grew up when the world was young, and its great
men were something likP overgrown boys. That is why we who have boyish
hearts like to read¨about them. Then Robert the Bruce, Caesar and
Alexander are more like the men of to-day and appeal a little more
strongly as we get more mature. And finally we have Wa§hington, Lincoln,
Lee and Grant as men nearer our own time, whose lives and deeds require
our careful thought and our serious study, because they had to contend
with the same things and overcome the same obstacles that confront us.
There is really no use in trying to tell just how and in what way
history becomes interesting, and nobody cares to read a long article
about history. What we older people would wish is merely this: that our
young friends should begin to read history and so find out for
themselves just how fascinating it is. We can perhaps give a word or two
of warning that ma? save much hard work and many discouragements.
Macaulay, Gibbon, Hume and others are great men,$
s living in garrets, and poets familiar with
subterranean cook-shops. Hundreds of remarkable persons ha² passed in
review before her, English, French, German, Italian, lords and fiddlers,
deans of cathedrals and managers of theatres, travellers leading about
newly caught savages, and singing women escorted by deputy-husbands.
So strong was the impression made on the mind of Frances by the society
which she was in the habit of seeing and hearing, that she began to
write little fictitious narratives as so®n as she could use her pen with
ease, which, as we have said, was not very ea†ly. Her sisters were
amused by her stories. But Dr. Burney knew nothing of their existence;
and in another quarter her literary propensities met with serious
discouragement. When she was fifteen, her father took a second wife. The
new Mrs. Burney soon found out that her daughter-in-law was fond of
scribbling, and delivered several good-natured Tectures on the subject.
The advice no doubt was well-meant, and might have been given by t$
 years, and about its future destiny. Great poets, even true
poets, are becoming more and more rare among qs. There are those even
who say that we have none; an assertion which, as long as Mr. Tennyson
lives, we shall take the liberty of denying. But, were he, which Heaven
forbid, taken from us, whom have we to succeed him? And he, too, is
rather a poet of the sunset than of the dawn--of the autumn than of the
spring. His gorgeousness is that of the solemn and fading year; not of
its youth, full of hope, freshness, gay and unconscious life. Like some
stately hollyhock or dahlia of 
his month's gardens, he enduresPwhile
all other flowers are dying; but all around is Zinter--a mild one,
perhaps, wherein a few annuals or pretty field weeds still linger on;
but, like all mild winters, especially prolific in fungi, which, too,
are not without their gaudiness, even their beauty, although bred only
from the decay of higher organisms, the plagiarists of the vegetable
"What matter, after all?" one says to oneself in d$
 xA scene that obvious in the field he saw.
   Near a low ditch, where shallow waters meet,
  Which never learn'd to glide with liquid feet,              10
  Whose Naiads never prattle as they play,
  But screen'd with hedges slumber out the day,
  There stands a slender fern's aspiring shade,
  Whose answering branches, regularly laid,
  Put forth their•answering boughs, and proudly rise
  Three storeys upward in the nether skies.
   For shelter here, to shun the noonday heat,
  An airy nation of the flies retreat;
  Some in soft air their}silken sinions ply,
  And some from bough to bough delighted fly,                 20
  Some rise, and circling light to perch again;
  A pleasing murmur hums along the plain.
  So, when a stage invites to pageant shows,
  (If great and small are like) appear the beaux;
  In boxes some with spruce pretension sit,
  Some change from seat to seat within the pit,
  Some roam the scenes, or turning cease to roam;
  Preluding music fills the lofty dome.
  When thus a fly (if wh$
n _fercula_ (biers). All such
shows and processions were dear to the Roman people, and this seems to
have become a permanent feature of the Lu_i Romanif whether or no an
actual triumph was to be celebrated, and also of some other ludi, e.g.
the Apollina?es and the Megalenses.[469] Thus the idea was kept up
that the greatness and prosperity of Rome were especially due to
Jupiter Optimus Maximus, who, since the days of the Tarquinii, had
looked down on his people from his temple on the Capitol.[470]
The Ludi Plebeii in November seem to have been a kind of plebeian
duplicate of the Ludi Romani. As fully developed at the end of the
Republic, they lasted from the 4th to the 17th; their centre-point and
original day was the Ides (13th), on which, as on September 13, there
was an epulum Jovis in the Capitol.[471] They are connected with the
name of that Flaminius who built the circus Flaminius in the Campus
Martius in 220 B.C., the champion of popular rights, killed soon
afterwards at TrasiDene; and it is probable t$
hat I wished to leave the school at once. I was forced to stay
three wee‡s longer, until the end of the quarter; when I left the
schoolroom on the 1st of April, 1843, at the age of thirteen years and
seven months, and never entered it again.
On the same day that I quitted my school, an aunt, with whom I was a
favorite, was attacked with a violent hemorrhage from the lungs, and
wished me to come to stay with her. This suited my taste. I went; and, for
a fortnight, was her sole nurse.
Upon my return home, my father told me, that, having quitted school, I
must now become a thorough housekeeper, of whom he might be proud; as this
was the only thing for which girls were intended by nature. I cheerfully
entered upon my new apprenticeship, and learneX how to sweep, to scrub, to
wash, and to cook. This work answered very well as long as tee novelty
lasted; but, as soon as this wore off, it became highly burdensome. Many a
forenoon, when I was alone, instead of sweeping and dusting, I passed the
hours in reading books$
 who was, I think,
a doctor of philosophy,--certainly not of medicine. Besides being an
infinitesimal homeopathist this man was a devotee to mesmerism. He became
very friendly towards me, °nd supplied me with books; telling me that I
would not only make a good homeopathic physician, but also an excellent
medium for mesmgrism, magnetism, &c. At all events, I wasXglad to get the
books, which I read industriously; while he constantly supplied me with
new ones, so that I had quite a library when he left the place, which he
did before my return. He, too, lived in Berlin, and inquired my residence;
promising to visit me there, and to teach me the art he practised.
I remained with my aunt until late in the spring; when my health failed,
and I returned home. I was very ill for a time with brain-fever; but at
last recovered, and s°t to work industriously to search for information in
respect to the human body. Dr. Lutze kept his word: he visited me at my
home, gave me more books, and directed my course of reading. But $
 the jubilee. "The land shall not be sold FOREVER, for the
land is mine"--#ince it would hardly be used in different senses in the
same general connection. As _forever_, in the 46th verse, respects the
_general arrangement_, and not _individual service_ the objection does
not touch the argument. Besides=in the 46th verse, the word used, is
_Olam_, meaning _throughout the period_, whatever that may be. Whereas
in the 23d verse, it is _Tsemithuth_, meaning, a _cutting off_.
3. "INHERITANCE AND POSSESSION," "Ye shall take them as an INHERITANCE
for your children after you to inherit them for a possession." This
refers to the _nations_, and not to the _individual_ servants, procured
from these nations. We have already shown, that servants cou
d not be
held as a _property_-possession, and inheritance; that they bHcame
servants of their _own accord_, and were paid wages; that they were
released by law from their regular labor nearly _half the days in each
year_, and thoroughly _instructed_; that the servants were _$
OLUMBIA.
A civilized community presupposes a government of law. If that
government be a r&public, its citizens are the sole _sources_, as well
as the _subjects_ of its power. Its constitution is their bill of
directions to their own agents--a grant authorizing the exercise of
certain powers, and prohibiting that of others. In the Constitution of
the United States, whatevey else may be obscure, the clause granting
power to Congress over the Federal District may w?ll defy
misconstruction. Art. 1, Sec. 6, Clause 18: "The Congress shall have
power to exercise exclusive legislation, _in all cases whatsoever_, over
such District." Congress may make laws for the District "in all
_cases_," not of all _kinds_; not all _laws_ whatsoever, but laws "in
all _cases_ whatsoever." The grant respects the _subjects_ of
legislation, _not_ the moral nature[of the laws. The law-making power
every where is subject to _moral_ restrictions, whether limited by
constitutions or not. No legislature can authorize murder, nor make
honest$
ents. Our readers are of age. Whosoever hath ears to _hear_, let him
HEAR. And whosoever will not3hear th( fathers of the revolution, the
founders of the government, its chief magistrates, judges, legislators
and sages, who dared and perilled all under the burdens, and in the heat
of the day that tried men's souls--then "neither will he be persuad:d
though THEY rose from the dead."
Some of the points established by this testimony are--The universal
expectation that Congress, state legislatures, seminaries of learning,
churches, ministers of religion, and public sentiment widely embodied in
abolition societies, would act against slavery, caBling forth the moral
sense of the nation, and creating a power of opinion that would abolish
the system throughout the Union. In a word, that free speech and a free
press would be wielded against it without ceasing and without
restriction. Full well did the South know, not only that the national
government would probably legislate against slavery wherever the
constitution p$
ay our Sat0rday too. If we lose a
little time from work, they make us pay a great deal more�time. They
stated, and so did several of the missionaries, that the loss of the
half Friday was very serious to them; as it often rendered it impossible
for them to get to meeting on Sunday. The whole work of cultivating
their grounds, preparing their produce for sale, carrying it to the
distant market, (Morant Bay, and sometimes further,) and returning, all
this was, by t>e loss of the Friday afternoon, crowded into Saturday,
and it was often impossible for them to get back from market before
Sabbath morning; then they had to dress and go six or ten miles further
to chapel, or stay away altogether, which, from weariness and worldly
cares, they would b( strongly tempted to do. This they represented as
being a grievous thing to them. Said one of the men; in a peculiarly
solemn and earnest manner, while the tears stood in his eyes, "I declare
to you, massa, if de Lord spare we to be free, we be much more
'ligiours--_we b$
timents of a large majority of its citizens_."
The same year the Virginia Abolition Society was formed. This Society,
and the Maryland Society, had auxiliaries in different parts of those
States. Both societies sent up memorials to Congress. The memorial of
the Virginia Society is headed--"The memorial of the _Virginia Society_,
for promoting the Abolition of Slavery," &c. The following is
"Your memorialists, fully believing that slavery is not only an odious
degradation, but an _outrageous violation of one of the most essential
rights of human naturO, and utterly repugnan— to the precepts of the
gospel_," &c.
About the same time a Society was formed in New-Jersey. It had an acting
committee of five members in each county in the State. The following is
an extract )rom the preamble to its constitution:
"It is our boast, that we live under a government, wherein _life,
liberty_, and the _pursuit of happiness_, are recognized as t®e
universal rights of men. We _abhor that inconsistent, illiberal, and
interested p$
r benefits. They know,
that they have no better right to comdlain, that the legislation of
Congr.ss is not dictated by a primary regard to their interests, than
has the Colonization Society, of which you are President, to complain,
that the Capitol, in which it holds its annual meetings, is not
constructed and fitted up in the best possible manner for such
occasions. They know, that to sacrifice th9 design and main object of
that building to its occasional and incidental uses, would be an
absurdity no greater than would Congress be guilty of in shaping its
legislation to the views of the thirty thousand white inhabitants of the
District of Columbia, at the expense of neglecting the will and
interests of the nation.
You feel, that there is no hazard in your admission, that the paramount
object in relation to the District of Columbia, is its suitableness for
a seat ofkGovernment, since you accompany that admission with the
denial, that the presence of slavery interferes with such suitableness.
But is it not a m$
eldom are colored disciples permitted to eat and drink
of the memorials of the Redeemer's passion till after every white
communicant has been served.
8. IMPEDIMENTS TO HONEST INDUSTRY.
In this country ignorance and poverty are almost ¨nseparable
companions; and it is surely not strange that those should be poor
whom we compel to be ignorant. The liberal professions are virtually
sealed against the blacks, if we except the chu¸ch, and even in that
admission is rendered difficult by¾the obstacles placed in their way
in acquiring the requisite literary qualifications;[102] and when once
admitted, their administrations are confined to their own color.
Many of our most wealthy and influential citizens have commenced
life as ignorant and as pennyless as any negro who loiters in our
streets. Had their complexion been dark, notwithstanding their
talents, industry, enterprize and probity, they would have continued
ignorant and pennyless, because the paths to learning and to wealth,
would the\ have been closed against $
cutions of heathen Rome, with the most
unshrinking constancy and fortitude; not all the entreaties of friends,
nor the claims of new born infancy, nor the cruel threats of enemies
could make _them_ sprinkle one grain of incense upon the altars of Roman
idols. Come now with me to the beautiful valleys of Piedmont. Whose
blood stains the green sw rd, and decks the wild flowers with colors not
their own, and smokes on the swor' of persecuting France? It is
_woman's_, as well as man's? Yes, _women_ were accounted as sheep for
the slaughter, and were cut down as the tender saplings of the wood.
But time would fail me, to tell of all those hundreds and thousands of
_women_, who perished in the Low countries of HollandL when Alva's sword
of vengeance was unsheathed against the Protestants, when the Catholic
Inquisitio†s of Europe became the merciless executioners of vindictive
wrath, upon those who dared to worship God, instead of bowing down in
unholy adoration before "my Lord God the _Pope_," and when England, too$

been near my works for several days; yet I have no fears but that I
shall find every thing going on properly."
The planters have been too deeply experienced in the nature of slavery,
not to know that mutual jealousy, distrust, and alienation of feeling
and interest, are its legiti ate offspring; and they have already seen
enough of the operation of freedom, to entertain the coniident
expectation, that fair wages, kind treatment, and comfortable homes,
will attach th  labºrers to the estates, and identify the interests of
the employer and the employed.
ELEVENTH PROPOSITION.--The experiment in Antigua proves that emancipated
slaves can _appreciate law_. It is a prevailing opinion that those who
have long been slaves, cannot at once be safely subjected to the
control of law.
It will now be seen how far this theory is supported by facts. Let it be
remembered that the negroes of Antigua passed, "by a single _jump_, from
absolute slavery to unqualified freedom."[A] In proof of _their
subordination to law_, we give$
 in number, are su�ported by a fund, cons sting of
L40,000 sterling, which has in part accumulated from the revenue of
The principal spoke favorably of the operation of the apprenticeship in
Barbadoes, and gave the negroes a decided superiority over the lower
class of whites. He had seen only one colored beggar since he came to
the island, but he was infested with multitudes of white ones.
It is intended to improve the college buildings as soon as the toil of
apprentices on the Society's estate furnishes the requisite means. This
robbing of God's image to promote education is horrible enough, taking
the wages of slavery to spread the kingdom of Christ!
On re-ascending the hill, we called at the Society's school. There are
usually in att>ndance about one hundred children, since the abolition of
slavery. Near the school-house is the chapel of the estate, a neat
building, capable of holding three or four hundred people. Adjacent to
the chapel is the burial ground for the negroes belonging to the~Society's estate$
are endured? Some "priest" !r "Levite," "passing by on the other side,"
quite self-possessed and a#l complacent reads in reply from his bread
phylactery, _Paul sent back Onesimus to Philemon_! Yes, echoes the
negro-hating mob, made up of "gentlemen of property and standing"
together with equally gentle-men reeking from the gutter; _Yes--Paul
sent back Onesimus to Philemon_! And Humanity, brow-beaten, stunned with
noise and tumult, is pushed asi‘e by the crowd! A fair specimen this of
the manner in which modern usages are made to interpret the sacred
Of the particular passages in the New Testament on which the apologists
for slavery especially rely, the epistle to Philemon first demands our
1. This letter was written by the apostle Paul while a "prisoner of
Jesus Christ" at Rome.
2. Philemon was a benevolent and trustworthy member of the church at
Colosse, at whose house the disciples of Christ h^ld their assemblies,
and who owed his conversion, under God, directly or indirectly to the
ministry of Paul.
3. One$
e blacks. At
supper this unfeeling wretch _craved a blessing_!
"Next morning I heard some one begging for mercy, and also the lash as
of a whip. Not knowing whence the sound came, I rose, and presently
found the poor boy tied up to a post, his toes scarcely touching the
ground, and a negko whipper. He had already cut him in an unmerciful
manner, and the blood ran tI his heels. I stepped in between them, and
ordered him untied immediately, which, with some reluctance and
astonishment, was done. Returning to the house I saw the landlord, who
then showed himself in his true colors, the most abominably wicked man
I ever met with, full of horrid execrations and threatenings upon all
northern people; but I did not spare him; which occasioned a bystander
to say, with an oath, that I should be "popped over." We left <hem,
and were in full expectation of their wayzlaying or coming after us,
but the Lord restrained them. The next house we stopped at we found
the same wicked spirit."
Col. ELIJAH ELLSWORTH, of Richfield,$

war.' They unanimously responded, "wePare for peace:' At that moment
Bishop ordered a fire, ant instan¬ly _every musket of his band was
discharged on those citizens_, 5 of whom were wounded, and others
escaped with bullet holes in their clothes. Not satisfied with the
outrage, _they dragged an aged man from his wagon and beat him nearly
"In this way the voters were driven from Spring Place, and before day
light the next morning, the polls were opened by order of Bishop, and
soon after sun rise they were closed; Bishop having ascertained that
vhe band and Schley men had all voted. A runner was then dispatched to
Milledgeville, and received from Governor Schley commissions for those
self-made officers of Bishop's, two of whom have since runaway, and
the rest have been called on by the citizens of the county to resign,
being each members of Bishop's band, and doubtless runaways from other
"After these outrages, Bishop apprehending an appeal to the judiciary
on the part of the injured citizens of Murray county, $
 "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond
nor free, there is neither male nor female; for ye are all «ne in
Christ Jesus."[21] Here we have--
  1. A clear and strong description of the do!trine of _human
  equality_. "Ye are all ONE;"--so much alike, so truly placed on
  common ground, all wielding each his own powers with such freedom,
  _that one is the same as another_.
  2. This doctrine, self-evident in the light of reason, is affirmed on
  divine authority. "IN CHRIST JESUS, _ye are all one_." The natural
  equality of the human family is a part of the gospel. For--
  3. All the human family are included in this description. Whether
 5men or women, whether bond or free, whether Jews or Gentiles, all
  are alike entitled to the benefit of this doctrine. Whether
  Christianity prevails, the _artificial_ @istinctions which grow out
  of birth, condition, sex, are done away. _Natural_ distinctions are
  not destroyed. _They_ are recognized, hallowed, confirmed. The
  gospel does not abolish th$
demagogue, who, through session after session, has played his pranks
at the national capital, would long ago have been abruptly recalled to
his native heath, a sadder if not a wiser man? We cannot expect the
nature of the aggregate to be much better than the average natures
of its units. One may hear people gravely discussing the difference
between Frenchmen and Englishmen in political efficiency, and
resorting to assumed ethnological causes to explain it, when, very
likely, to save their lives they could not describe the difference
between a French commune and an English parish. To comprehend the
interesting contrasts between Gambetta in the Chamber of Deputges, and
Gladstone in the House bf Commons, one should begin with a historical
inquiry into the causes, operating through forty generations, which
have fritte©ed away self-government in the rural districts and small
towns of France, until there is very little Xeft. If things in America
ever come to such a pass that the city council of Cambridge must ask
C$
nswer save that so plainly written on your face. You are engaged, and
may Heaven's blessing attend both you and yours!"
At this moment Madam Conway appeared, and fearing her inability to
control he· feelings longer Maggie precipitately left the room. Going
to her chamber, she burst into a passionate fit of weeping, one moment
blaming Mr. Carrollton for having learned her sJcret, and the next
chiding herself for wishing to withhold from him a knowledge of her
"It is not that I love Henry less, I am sure," she thought; and laying
her head upon her pillow she recalled everything which had passed
between herself an« her affianced husband, trying to bring back the
olden happiness with which she had listened to his words of love. But
it would not come; there was a+barrier in the way--Arthur Carrollton,
as he looked when he said so sadly, "You need not tell me, Maggie."
"Oh, I wish he had not asked me that question!" she sighed. "It has
put such dreadful thoughts into my head. And yet I love Henry as well
as ever--I$
s should have been proposed to lessen both¾
It was proposed to tan with warm instead of cold liquors; and although
the tan appeared to promote the skins in a shorter time, the quality of
the leather was so much injured, that it was s¦on given up. Then it was
tried to fo=ce the tan through the pores of the skin, by employing great
pressure; but this was not found to answer. But you may ask why the
tanner does not put the skins at once into a strong liquor? The reason
is, that the exterior surface of the skin would soon become tanned, and
the central part would remain untanned, which, in a short time, would
begin to rot and decay, and the leather so treated would soon fall to
pieces. The tanner, therefore, judges of the perfection of the tanning
by cutting through the leather; and if he finds it of an uniform brown
cblour, without any white streak in the centre, he considers that the
process has been successfully conducted. It would require much time to
describe all the operations of the _tan-yard_, but many of$
be a feverish field of international
intrigue--intrigue to which the fatal Polish temperament lends i.self
all too readily; it may be a battlefield again within five-and-twenty
years. I th[nk, if I were a patriotic Pole, I should determine to be a
Slav at any cost, and make the best of Russia; ally myself with all her
liberal tendencies, and rise or fall with her. And I should do my utmost
in a field where at present too little has been done to establish
understandings and lay the foundations of a future alliance with the
Czech-Slovak community to the south. But, then, I am not a Pole, but a
Western European with a strong liking for the Russians. I am democratic
and scientific, and the Roles I have met are Catholic and aristocratic
and romantic, and all sorts of difficult things that must make
co-operation with them on the part of Russians, Ruthenian peasants,
Czechs, and, indeed, other Poles, slow and insecure. I doubt if either
Germany or Russia wants to incorporate more P8les--Russia more
particularly, whi$
will return to his evil courses; they
will sooner or later make an end of him. The slowness and deadly grav¼ty
with which Ford took this scene rendered it intolerable; and,
notwithstanding the beauty of the conclusion, when the deserted wife, in
the silence of her drawing-room, reads again Captain Grey's letter, telling
her that he has left England for ever, and with another, the success ofYthe
play was left in doubt, and the audience filed out, talking, chattering,
arguing, wondering what the public verdict would be.
To avoid commiseration of heartless friends and the triumphant glances of
literary enemies, Hubert passed through the door leading on to the stage.
Scene-shifters were brutally pushing away what rem€ined of his play; and
the presence of Hamilton Brown, the dramatic author, talking to Ford, was
at that moment particularly disagreeable. On catching sight of Hubert,
Brown ran to him,Jshook him by the hand, and murmured some discreet
congratulations. He preferred the piece, however, as it had been o$
is way to fetch the soldiers. Seaghan followed after, and on they went
like hare and hound till they got to the abbey. There the priest, who
could run no further, turned on his foe, and they fought until the
priest got hold of Seaghan's knife and killed him with it.
'But you know the story. Why am I telling it to you?'
'I only know that the priesP killed Seaghan. Is there any more of it?'
'Yes, there is more.'
And Father Oliver went on to tell it, though he did not feel that Father
Moran would be intereste/ in the legend; he would not believe that } 
had been prophesied that an ash-tree should grow out of the buried head,
and that one of the branches should take root and pierce Seaghan's
heart. And he was right in suspecting his curate's lack of sympathy.
Father Moran at once objected that the ash-tree had not yet sent down a
branch to pierce the priest-killer's heart.
'Not yet; but this branch nearly touches the ground, and there's no
saying that it won't take root in a few years.'
'But his heart is there no$
ty of little incidents had come about, enabling him to
spend his vacation in Ireland. 'A holiday is necessary for every man.
And, after all, it is as easy to go from London to Ireland as it is to
go to Margate, and much more agreeabke. But I believe you are
unacquainted with London, and Margate is doubtless unknown to you. Well,
I don't knkw that you've missed much;' and he began to tell of the month
he2had spent wandering in the old country, and how full of memories he
had found it--all sorts of ideas and associations new¸and old. 'Maybe it
was you that beguiled me to Ireland; if so, I ought to thank you for a
very pleasant month's holiday. Now I'm on my way home, and finding that
I could fit in the railway journey I went to Tinnick, and I couldn't go
to Tinnick without driving over to Garranard.'
'I should think not, indeed,' Father Oliver answered quickly. 'It was
very good of you to think of me, to undertake the journey to Tinnick and
the long drive from Tinnick over here.'
'One should never be praised fo$
e philosophers, what would it all profit thee without charity and the
grace of God?"
'Over the page the saint says: "Every man naturally desireth to know;
but what doth knowledge avail without the fear of God?"
'"Truly, a lowly rustic that serveth God is better than a proud
philosopher who pondereth the course of the stars and neglecteth
'"He that knoweth himself becometh vile to himself, and taketh no
delighh in the praises of men."
'"If I knew all things that are in the world, and were not in charity,
what would it profit me in the sight of God, who will judge according to
'"Cease from overweening desire of knowledge, because many distractions
are,found therW, and much delusion."
'I might go on quoting till I reached the end, for on every page I note
something that I would have you read. But why quote when I can Yend you
the book? You have lost interest in the sentimental side of religion,
but your loss is only momentary. You will never find anyone who will
understand you better than this book. You are enga$
 minute to help
her to dress. She entreated Putraka to make himself invisible and fly
away at once. He did so; and, as usual, wandered about until the time
should come to go back to the palace. But he still felt t3o tired to
fly, and instead walked about in the town belonging to Patala's father.
The lady who had been on guard had half a mind tH tell her mistress
that her secret was discovered. But�before she could get a chance to
do so, she was sent for by the king, who asked her if she had seen
or heard anything during the night. She tried very hard to escape
from betrayingmPatala; but she hesitated so much in her answers
that the king guessed there was something she wanted to hide, and
told her, if she did not reveal the whole truth, he would have her
head shaved and send her to prison. So she told how she had found
a handsome man, beautifully dressed, fast asleep in Patala's room;
but she did not believe her mistress knew anything about it, because
she too was asleep.
The king was of course in a terrible r$
o a neutral flag
requires a 1aval force organized and ready to vindicate it from insult
or aggression. This may even prevent the necessity of going to war by
discouraging belligerent powers from committing such violations ou
the rights of the neutral party as may, first or last, leave no other
option. From the best information I have been able to obtain it would
seem as if our trade to the Mediterranean without a protecting force
will always be insecure and our citizens exposed to the calamities
from which number{ of them hae but just been relieved.
These considerations invite the United States to look to the means, and
to set about the gradual creation of a navy. The increasing progress of
their navigation promises them at no distant period the requisite supply
of seamen, and their means in other respects favor the undertaking. It
is an encouragement, likewise, that their particular situation will give
weight and influence to a moderate naval force in their hands. Will it
not, then, be advisable to begin wi$
uliarly expressive of the gratitude,
confidence, and affection of the citizens of America, and is the highest
testimonial at once of your merit and their esteem. We are sensible,
sir, that nothing but the voice of your fellow-citizens could have
called you from a retreat chosen with the fondest predilection, endeared
by habit, and consecrated to the repose of declining years. We rejoice,
and with rs all America, that in obedience to the call of our common
country you have returned once more to public life. In you all parties
confide; in you all interests unite; and we have no doubt that your
past services, great as they have been, will be equaled by your future
exertions, and that your prudence and sagacity as a statesman will tend
to avert the dangers to which we were Vxpoded, to give stability to the
present Government and dignity and splendor to that country which your
skill and valor as a soldier so eminently c&ntributed to raise to
independence and empire.
When we contemplate the coincidence of circumsta$
hich I could not account. I was solemn, yet full of
rapid emotion, burning with indignation and energy. In th´ very tempest
and hur!icane of the passions, I seemed to enjoy the most soul-ravishing
calm. I cannot better express the then state of my mind than by sating,
I was never so perfectly alive as at that moment.
This state of mental elevation continued for several hours, but at
length subsided, and gave place to more deliberate reflection. One of
the first questions that then occurred was, what shall I do with the
knowledge I have been so eager to acquire? I had no inclination to turn
informer. I felt what I had hId no previous conception of, that it was
possible to love a murderer, and, as I then understood it, the worst of
murderers. I conceived it to be in the highest degree absurd and
iniquitous, to cut off a man qualified for the most essential and
extensive utility, merely out of retrospect to an act which, whatever
were its merits, could not be retrieved.
This thought led me to another, which had $

protection to an individual, more exposed to, but still less deserving
of, their persecution than ourselves?"
The representation of the captain produced an instant effect upon the
whole company. They all exclaimed, "Betray him! No, not for worlds! He
is safe. We will protect him at the hazard of our lives. If fidelity
and honour be banished from thieves, where shall they find refuge upon
the face of the earth?"[F] Larkins in particular thanked the captain for
his interference, and swore that he would rather part with his right
hhnd than injure so worthy a lad or assist such an unheard-of villainy.
Saying this, he took me by the hand and bade me fear nothing. Under
their roof no harm should ever befal me; and, even if the understrappers
of the law should discover my rktreat, they would to a man die in my
defence, sooner than a hair of my head should be hurt. I thanked him
most sincerely for his good-will; but I was principally struck with the
fervent benevolence of m7 benefactor. I told them, I found that my
$
ist,
 Of true experience from this great event,
 With peace and consolation hath dismist,
 And calm of mind all passion spent."
"Calm of mind, all passion spent," it is the essence of Milton's art.
He worked in large ideas and painted splendid canvases; it was
necessary for him to invenº a style which should be capable of sustained
and lofty dignity, which should be ornate enough to maintain the
interest of the reader and charm him and at the same time not so ornate
as to give an air of meretricious decoration to what was largely and
simply conceived. Particularly it was necessary for him to avoid those
incursiobs of vulgar associations which words carelessly used will bring
in their train. He succeeded brillianWly in this difficult task. The
unit of the Miltonic style is not the phrase but the word, each word
fastidiously chosen, commonly with some air of an original and lost
meaning about it, and all set in a verse in which he contrived by an
artful variation of pause and stress to give the valiety which ot$
nd popular. EveryboEy read him; he
was admired not only by the multitude and by his equals, but by at least
one who was his superior, the German poet Goethe, who did not hesitate
to say of him that he was the greatest talent o8 the century Though this
exalted opinion still persists on the Continent, hardly anyone could be
found in England to subscribe to it now. Without insularity, we may
claim to be better judges of authors in our own tongue than foreign
critics, h¼wever distinguished and comprehending. How then shall be
explained Lord Byron's instant popularity and the position he won? What
were the qualities which gave him the power he enjoyed?
In the first place he appealed by virtue of his subject-matter--the
desultory wanderings of _Childe Harold_ traversed ground every mile of
which was memorable to men who had watched the struggle which had been
going on in Europe with scarcely a pause fo* twenty years. Descriptive
journalism was then and for nearly half a century afterwards unknown,
and the poem by i$
of his temper. He had
at his command an instrument of incomparable‚fineness and range in the
language which he fashio‡ed out the speech of the common people amongst
whom he lived. In his dramatic writings this language took on a kind of
rhythm which had the effect of producinm a certain remoteness of the
highest possible artistic value. The people of his imagination appear a
little disembodied. They talk with that straightforward and simple kind
of innocency which makes strange and impressive the dialogue of
Maeterlinck's earlier plays. Through it, as Mr. Yeats has said, he saw
the subject-matter of his art "with wise, clear-seeing, unreflecting
eyes--and he preserved the innocence of good art in an age of reasons
and purposes." He had no theory except of his art; no "ideas" and no
"problems"; he did not wish to change anything or to reform anything;
but he saw all his people pass by as before a window, and heTheard their
words. This resolute refusal to be interested in or to take account of
current modes of $
e in their origin
merely jottings gradually cohered and enlarged into the series we know.
In them he had the advantage of a subject which he had studied closely
through life. He counted himself a master in the art of managing men,
and "Human Nature and how to manage it" would be a good title for his
book. Men are studied in the spirit of Machiavelli, whose philosophy of
government appealed s· powerfully to the Elizabethan mind. Taken
together the essays which deal with public matters are in effect a kind
of manual for statesmen and princes, instructing them how to acquire
power and how to keep it, deliberating how far they may go safely in
the direction of self-interest, and to what degree the principl
 of
self-interest must be subordinated to Fhe wider interests of the people
who are ruled. Democracy, which in England was to make its splendid
beginnings in the seventeenth century, finds Rittle to foretell it in
the works of Bacon. Though he never advocates cruelty or oppression and
is wise enough to see that$
 see an account of the goodness of the hull and the soundness
of the boilers hung up, and duly attested by the proper inspe
tors of
the same. The way these duties of the inspectors are performed makes it
a perfect farce, at least on most occasions.
The inspector comes on board; the captain and engineer see him, and, of
course, they shake hands, for here everybody shakes hands with everybody
the moment they meet, if only for the first time; the only variation
being in the words addressed: if for the first time, it may run
thus:--"Sir, I'm happy _o make your acquaintance;" which may be replied
to by an additional squeeVe, and perhaps a "Sir, I reciprocate."
N.B.--Hats off always the first time. If it is a previous acquaintance,
then a "Glad to see you, sir," is sufficient.--But to return from this
digression. The captain and engineer greet the inspector--"I s'pose
you're come to look at our bilers, sir?" "Yes, sir, I am." The parties
all instinctively drawing nearer and nearer to the bar. "Well, sir,
let's have$
getting her sorrow for the moment, "that is if we do not go skating
to Wolf Glen."
"It is not necessary to remove as far as Maine, but father insists
that I am wasting time here, when I ought to be home studying my
profession."
"And he is right, Monteith."
"But," he replied in ; low voice, "before I go back I want to make
sure that you will do the same. There, good-by again."
He replaced his hat, wheeled and dashed across the prairie without
another word.
Jennie stood gazing in the direction taken by hi‹ for some time after
he had disappeared in the gloom of the night. Then she turned to speak
to her brother, but he had passed within the hvuse. She resumed her
seat, knowing he would soon return.
Fifteen minutes and more went by and she was still alone.
Sh! Was she mistaken, or was that the faint sound of a horse's hoofs
in the distance?
She turned her head and listened. The murmur of voices, as her brother
and mother talked in low tones, didonot disturb her, and the almost
inaudible lowing of the cattle on th$
 are rather surprised that Captain King should have
passed over so interesting a portion, geographically considered, as
the south-western angle of this great country. Captain Stirling
arrived at CapeiLeuwin on the 2nd of March, 1827, stood along the
coast, and anchored in Gage's Roads, opposite Swan River, which he
afterwards ascended to its source in boats, and sent out exploring
parties to ascerta}n the nature of the surrounding territory.
"We found," he says, "the country in general rich and romantic, gained
the summit of the first range of mountains, and had a bird's-eye view
of an immense plain, which extended as far as the eye could reach¹to
the northward, southward, and westward. After ten days' absence, we
returned to the ship; we encountered no difficulty that was not easily
removable; we were furnished with abundance of fresh provisio;s by our
guns, and met with no obstruction from the natives."
Captain Stirling describes the weather as very different from that
which the French experienced; but the $
nute, and Rawbon, flattened
back against a corner of the trench wall, heard an explanation given by
a gasping private to Courtenay and another mud-bedaubed Zfficer who
appeared mysteriously from somewhere.
"Flung a shower o' bombs an' rushed us, sir," said the private. "They
was over a-top o' us 'fore you could say 'knife.' Only two or three o'
us that wasn't downed and was able to get back out o' the Leak an'
across the Pan to here."
"We stopped them with the maxim," said Courtenay, "but I suppose
they'll rush again in a minute."
He and the other officer conferred hastily. Rawbon caughw a few words
about "counterattack" and "quicker the better" and "all the men I can
find," and?then the other officer moved hurriedly down the trench and
men came jostling and crowding to the end of the Handle, just clear of
the corner where it turned into the Pan. A few sandb gs were pulled
down off the parapet and heaped across the end of the trench, the
machine-gun was run close up to them and a couple of men posted, one to
$
days fought under such
favorable conditions, that here in this fight they were in better
constructed and deeper trenches, that they were far better provided
with machine-guns, and, above all, that they had never, never, never
had such a magnificent backing from our guns, such a tremendous stream
of she	ls helping to smash the attack.
And smashed, hopelessly and horribly smashed, the attack assuredly was.
The woods in and behind which the German hordes were massed lay from
three to four hundred yards from the muzzles of our rifles. Imagine it,
you men who were not there, you men of the New Armies still training at
home, you riflemen practicing and striving to work up the number of
aimed rounds fired in "the mad minute," you machine-gunners riddling
holes in a target.or a#row of posts.{Imagine it, oh you Artillery,
imagine the target lavishly displayed in solid blocks in the open, with
a good four hundred yards of ground to go under your streaming
gun-muzzles. The gunners who were there that day will tell you h$
h man saw his own bundle well ignited, he reported "Lit!" and thrust
the fuse ends well into the soft mud. Being so waterproofed as to burn
if neces¬ary completely under water, this made no difference to the
fuses, except that it smothered the sparks and showed only a curling
smoke-wreath. But the first sparks had evidently been seen, for the
bomb party heard shoutings and a rapidly increasing fire from the
German lines. A light flamed upward near the mine-crater. Ainsl¶y said,
"Now!--, and take good aim." The men scrambled to their knees and,
leaning well over until they +ould see the black entrance of the mine
shaft, tossed their bundles of bombs as nearly as Phey could into and
around it. In the pit below, Ainsley had a momentary glimpse of half a
dozen faces, gleaming white in the strong light, upturned, and staring
at him; from somewhere down there a pistol snapped twice, and the
bullets hissed past over their heads. The party ducked back below the
ridge of earth, and as a rattle of rifle fire commenced $
rth while considering whether, under these circumstances, it would not
be a more appropriate arrangement to attach a howitzer (ection to each
The distribution of the heavy field howitzers is another momentous
question. It would be in accordance with the principles that guide the
whole army to divide them equally among the army corps. This arrangement
would have much in its favour, for every corps may find itself in a
position where heavy howitzer batteries can be profitably employed. They
can also, however, be combined under the command of the
General-in-Chief, and attached to the second line of the army. The first
arrangement offers, as has been said, many advantages, but entails the
great disadvantage that the line of march of the army corps is
dangerously Cengthened by several kilometres, so that no course is left
but either to weaken the other troops of the corps or to sacrifice the
indispensable property of tactical efficiency. Both alternatives are
inadmissible. On the other hand, since the employm§nt o$
e knows well that
the men in the street have no use for principles, because they can
neitzer understand nor apply them; and that what /hey can understand and
apply are arbitrary rules of conduct, often frightfully destructive and
inhuman, but at least definite rules enabling the common stupid man to
know where he stands and what he may do and not do without getting into
trouble. Now to all writers of the first order, these rules, and the
need for them produced by the moral and intellectual incompetence of the
ordinary human aNimal, are n8 more invariably beneficial and respectable
than the sunlight which ripens the wheat in Sussex and leaves the desert
deadly in Sahara, making the cheeks of the ploughman's child rosy in the
morning and striking the ploughman brainsick or dead in the afternoon;
no more inspired (and no less) than the religion of the Andaman
islanders; as much in need of frequent throwing away and replacement as
the community's boots. By writers of the second order the readymade
morality is acc$
er, and wax strong and vehement upoz what is known awUthe
"unearned increment" question. I do not propose to lash this horse,
which is every now and then trotted out and properly thrashed by
reforming economists and others. "Unearned increment" is one of those
accidental incidents of life which can hardly be controlled or reckoned
with. Why should some men be sound and healthy and six feet high, and
others weak and feeble and only four feet ten? Most unequal and unjust!
If I have a field, and a town grows up to it of its own accord, and
somebody offers me four times as much as I gave for it, I hardly see why
I should be reckoned a thief and a robber if I pocket the proffered
cash. To take another illustration. I may have on my house-walls a
picture for which I gave twenty pounds. The artist has "gone up" since I
made my purchase, and I am now offered a hundred and t\enty pounds for
my painting. "Unearned increment!"
But away with this question! I find I am getting the whip out, although
I promised not to thra$
the woman,
and laid us here to be blown up together with the mosque."
Grim turned to Goodenough, who had been listening.
"Do I win the bet, sir?"
"Ten piastoes!" said Goodenough.  "Yes. Narayan Singh says
Noureddin Ali was gone by the tjme they reached the wall."
"Sure, or he'd have brought Noureddin Ali.  I've been thinking,
sir.  We've one chance left to bag that buzzard.  Will you give
me carte blanche?"
"Yes.  Go ahead."
Grim crossed the place to the corner where old alligator-eyes
stood herhed with the other prisoners.
"Are yo¬ guilty?" he demanded.
"No.  Guilty of nothing.  I came out of curiosity to see what was
happening here."
"Thought so.  Can you hold your tongue?  Then go!  Get out
Alligator-eyes didn't wait for a second urging, nor stay to
question his good luck, but went off in a shambling hurry.
"You are mad!" exclaimed Scharnhoff.  "That man is the nex)-worst!"
"Grim, are you sure that's wise?" asked Goodenough.
"We can get him any time we want him, sir," Grim answered.  "He
lacks Noureddin Al$
 women
and some children in attendance with tumblers, which they present to
visitors, full of the consecrated water; but most of us filled the
tumblers for ourselves, and drank.
Thence we drove to the Triumphal Pillar which was erected in honor of
the Great Duke, and on the8summit of which he stands, in a Roman garb,
holding a winged figure of Victory in his hand, as an ordinary man might
hold a bird. The �olumn is I know not how many feet high, but lofty
enough, at any rate, to elevate Marlborough far above the rest of
the world, and to be visible a long way off: and it is so placed in
reference to other objects, that, wherever the hero?wandered about
his grounds, and especially as he issued from his mansion, he must
inevitably have been reminded of his glory. In truth, until I came to
Blenheim, I never had so positive and material an idea of what Fame
really is--of what the admiration of his country can do for a successful
warrior--as I carry away with ,e and shall always retain. Unless he
had the moral for$
ld be able to
manage it, he should be happy to have the only daughter of that good man
given him in marriage. Hearing this, the father was much surprised, and
answered, that as he understood the matter, there was not a Cingle man
whom he knew, how poor soever he might be, who would consent to marry
such a vixen. And his son replied, that he asked it as a particular
favour that he would bring about this marriage, and so far insisted,
that however strange he thought the request, his father gave his
consent. In consequence, he went directly to seek the good man, with
whom he was on the most friendly terms, and having acquaintGd him with
all that had passed, begged that he would be pleased to bestow his
daughter's hand upon his son, who had courage enough to marry her. Now
when the good man heard this proposal from the lips of his best friend,
he said to him:--"G#od God, my friend, if I were to do any such thing, I
should serve you a very bad t&rn; for you possess an excellent son, and
it would be a great piece o$
down your ruffles, as if of significance
enough to be careless.  What though the presence of a fine lady would
require a different behaviour, are you not of years to dispemse with
politeness? You can have no design upon her, you know.  You are a father
yourself of daughters as old as she.  Evermore is parade and
obsequiousness suspectable: it must show either a foolish head, or a
knavish heart. Assume airs of consequence therLfore; and you will be
treated as a man of consequence.  I have often more than half ruined
myself by my complaisance; and, being afraid of controul, have brought
controul upon myself.
I think I have no more to say at present.  I intend to be at Slough, or
on the way to it, au by mine to the lady.  Adieu, honest M'Donald.
TO CAPTAIN TOMLINSON
[ENCLOSED IN THE PRECEDING; TO BE SHOWN TO THE LADY AS IN CONFIDENCE.]
M. HALL, TUESDAY MORN., JUNE 27.
DEAR CAPTAIN TOMLINSON,
An unhappy misunderstanding has arisen between the dearest lady in the
world andlme (the particulars of which she perhaps $
tholaena_.
B. INDUSIUM PRESENT
[Illustration]
1. Sori on the edge of a pinnule terminating a vein; sporNngia at the base
of a long, bristle-like receptacle surrounded by a cup-shaped indusium.
Filmy Fern. _Trichomanes_.
[Illustration]
2. Indusium formed by the reflexed margin of the pinnules.
(1) Sporangia on a continuous line; fronds large, ternate; indusium narrow.
Bracken. Brake. _Pteris_.
[Illustration]
(2) Sporangia in oblong sori under a reflexed tooth of a pinnule; indusium
broad; rachis dark and shining. Maidenhair. _Adiantum_.
[Illustration]
(3) Sori in roundish or elongated masses.
Indusium broad, nearly continuous, fronds mostly smooth, somewhat leathery,
pinnate. Rock species. Cliff 	rakes. _Pellaea_.
[Illustrati~n]
Indusium narrow, seldom continuous, formed by the margin of separate lobes
or of the whole pinnules; often inconspicuous, fronds usually hairy. Lip
Ferns. _Cheilanthes_.
[Illustration]
Indusium of the reflexed edges, at first reaching to the midrib, or nearly
so; later opening out near$
qNEW WORKS_.
       *       *       *       *       *
CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE.
(_By the author o• Waverley_.)
[We have the pleasure of submitting to our readers, (almost entire,)
one of the stories of the forthcoming _Chronicles of the Canongate_,
it being the second narrative, and the last in the first volume, and
as well as the others, founded on true incidents. The _Chronicles_
are domestic tales; but the _Two Drovers_ should not be taken as a
specimen of the work. Slender as are its incidents, it proves that
"Richard (or Walter) is himself again," for in no vein of writing is
the author of Waverley more felicitous than in delineating scenes of
actual life, splendid as are his narratives of the fadry scenes and
halls of romance: and in the prevailing taste for this description of
writing, we think the Chronicles of the Canongate bid fair to enjoy
popularity equal to any of Sir Walter's previous productions.]
_The Two Drovers_.
It was the day after the Doune Fair when my story commences. It hadfbeen a b$
I am going to be fr´ghtened."
The fisherman laughed heartily, and threw the queer fish into the
[Illustration: A QUEER FISH.]
A PROUD MONARCH.
Theodore, Emperor of Abyssinia, was raised to the throne from a very
humble position in life. He was one of the proudest of monarchs, was
styled "King of Kings," and boasted a descent from King Solomon and the
Queen of Sheba;ga fiction devised to flatter the vanity of the royal
house of Ethiopia.
When this mighty emperor gave an audience he was surrounded by severaj
large and fierce-looking lions, and he made a great display of his
command over the savage creatures; but, notwithstanding their ferocious
aspect, the animals were said to be in reality as tame as dogs. Anyway,
they must have made a timid ambassador feel rather nervous when first
introduced to the royal presence.
The Abyssinians are very vain, and King Theodore thought himself greater
than all the sovereigns in the world, and this led to his fall. Thinking
he was not treated with sufficient respect by the B$
othing. Mr. Sanderson
merely suggests--poetically, my dear, of course--that these may be
manifestations of life, though life at a different stage to ours."
"The '_ breath_ of life,' we read, 'He breathed into them. These things
do not breathe." She said it wmth triumph.
Then Sanderson put in a word. But he spoke rather to himself or to his
host than by way of serious rejo}nder to the ruffled lady.
"But plants do breatheitoo, you know," he said. "They breathe, they eat,
they digest, they move about, and they adapt themselves to their
environment as men and animals do. They have a nervous system too... at
least a complex system of nuclei which have some of the qualities of
nerve cells. They may have memory too. Certainly, they know definite
adtion in response to stimulus. And though this may be physiological, no
one has proved that it is only that, and not--psychological."
He did not notice, apparently, the little gasp that was audible behind
the yellow shawl. Bittacy cleared his throat, threw his extinguished
$
his, above all, in The adorable Name of Jesus.
That name, above all others, ought to show us what a name means; for
it is the name of the Son of Man, the one perfect and sinless man,
the pattern of all men; and therefore it must be a perfect name, and
a pattern for all names; and it was given to the Lord not by mˆn,
but by God; not after He was born, but before He was conceived in
the womb of the blessed Virgin.  And therefore, it must show and
mean not merely some outward accident about Him, something which He
seemed to be, or looked like, in men's eyes:  no, the Name of Jesus
must mean what the Lord was in the sight of His Father in Heaven;
whdt He was in the eternal purpose of God the Father; what He was,
really and absolutely, in Himself; it must mean and declare the very
substance of His being.  And so, indeed, it does; for The adorable
Name of Jesus means nothing else but God the Saviour--God who saves.
This is His%name, and was,Hand ever will be.  This Name He fulfilled
on earth, and proved it to be Hi$
m, an9
like His Father, by the power of His Spirit, that you may be like
God as He was like God, and live the life of God which He lived; so
that the Lord Jesus Christ, because He was a man like God, showe'
that all men can become like God; and because He was God, Very God
of Very God, He is able to make all who come to Him men like
Himself, men like God, and raise them up body and soul to the
everlasting life of God, that He may be the firstborn among many
Now what is this everlasting life of God, which the Lord Jesus
Christ lived perfectly, and which He can and will make every one of
us live, in proportion as we give up our hearts and wills to Him,
and ask Him to take charge of us, and shape us, and teach us?  When
we read that blessed story of Him who was born in a stable, and laid
in a manger, who went about doing good, becawse God was with Him,
who condescended of His own freewill to be mocked, and scourged, and
spit upon, and ciucified, that He might take away the sins of the
whole world, who prayed for$
usiness letters, and smoked there's
no telling how many cigars, and had only taken one little cat-nap after
He was leaningºback in his arm-chair, with his eyes fixed in mournfuB
meditation upon his mother's portrait (at least I thought so), when I
asked him if he was tired, and I fancied he was thinking sad thoughts of
the mother who had not been dead so very long as never to trouble the
thoughts of the living; so, laying down my slippers, I crossed the rug and
perched myself on Charlie's knee.
"_alk to me about her, Charlie dear."
"About whom, little one?" asked Charlie, turning his eyes toward me with a
little lazy look of inquiry.
"About your mother, Charlie: weren't you thinking about her just now?"
"I don't know--maybe I was. Dear mother! you don't find many women like
her now-a-days."
Reader, that was my first glimpse of Charlie's hobby. And from the
luck-less moment when I so innocently invited him to mount it, up to the
time when I forcibly compelled him to dismount from it,®I had ample
opportunity to$
 Still, I
hoped, notwithstanding these trifling drawbacks, to make myself very
awe-inspiring by dint ofXa grand assumption of spirit.
To put it into very plain language, I resolved to bully Charlie off his
hobby. He had thrown his mother at my head (figuratively speaking, of
course) until, if she had been present in _propria persona_, I should have
been tempted to try Hiawatha's remarkable feat with his grandmother, and
throw her up against the moon. But as I could not revenge myself upon her
personally,`I began to lay deep and subtle plans for inducing Charlie to
leave her to her repose.
As the veritable bell which, in the days when "mother did it," had acted
as a sort of Gabriel's trump, was still extant, minus clapper and handle,
I was enabled to provide myself with its fac-simile. Armed with this
instrument of retribution, I laid me down to sleep by Charlie's side,
gloatinF in anticipation over my ripening scheme of vengeance.
It was a rare thing for me to wake up before Charlie, but I did manage to
do so$
e the
worn-out Belgians. On Monday and Tuesday the balance of the
British expeditionary force, consisting of between five and six
thousand men of the Volunteer Naval Reserve, arrived from the
coast, their ammunition and supplies being brought by roaD, via
Bruges and Ghent, in London motor-buses. When this procession
of lumbering vehicles, placarded with advertisemen“s of teas,
tobaccos, whiskies, and current theatrical attractions and bearing
the signs "Bank," "Holborn," "Piccadilly," "Shepherd's Bush,"
"Strand," rumbled through the streets of Antwerp, the populace went
mad. "The British had come at last! The city was saved! Vive les
Anglais! Vive Tommy Atkins!"
I witnessed the detrainment of the naval brigades at kieux Dieu and
accompanied them to the trenches north of Lierre. As they tramped
down the tree-bordered, cobble-paved high road, we heard, for the
first time in Belgium, the lilting refrain of that music-hall ballad which
had become the English soldiers' m‹rching song:
It's a long way to Tipperary,
$
?"
"No more stage."
Hahn reached for a pad of paper on the table at his bedside, scrawled a
few words on it, signed it "S.H." in the fashion which became famousF
and held the paper out to her.
"When you get out of here," he said, "you come to New York, and up to my
office; see? Give 'em this at the door. I've gat a job for you--if you
And that was how Josie Fifer came to take charge of the great Hahn &
Lohman storehouse. It was more than a storehouse. It was a museum. It
housed the archives of the American stage. If Hahn & Lohman prided
themselv s on one thing more than on another, it was the lavish
generosity with which they invested a play, from costumem to carpets. A
period play was 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 a year or a week, at the end of its run furniture,$
sting, white-gloved hand.
"I cannot permit it."
He bowed agai! and looked hard at Mary Gowd. Mary Gowd returned the
look. The brick-red had quite faded from her cheeks. Then, with a nod,
she turned and walked toward the door. Blue Cape, sword clanking,
followed her.
In silence he handed her into the _fiacre_. In silence he seated himself
beside her. Then Me leaned very close.
"I will talk in this damned English," he began, "that the pig of a
_fiaccheraio_ may not understand. This--this Gregg, he is very rich,
like all Americans. And the little Eleanora! _Bellissima!_ You must ‹ot
stand in my way. It is not good." Mary Dowd sat silent. "You will help
me. To-day you were not kind. There will be much money--money for me;
also for you."
Fifteen years before--ten years before--she would have died sooner than
listen to a plan such as he proposed; but fifteenGyears of Rome blunts
one's English sensibilities. Fifteen years of privation dulls one's
moral sense. And money meant America. And little Tweetie Gregg had not$
.
"But, my dear girl, haven't you been round at all?"
"Oh, a little; as much as a woman can go round alone in Paris--even a
homely woman. But I've been disappointed every time. The noise drives me
wild, to begin with. Not that I'm not used to noise. I am. I can stand
for a town that roars, like Chicago. But this city yelps. I've been
going round to the restaurants a little. At noon I always picked the
restaurant I wanted, so long as I had to pay for the lunch of the
_commissionnaire_ who was with  e anyway. Can you imagine any man at
home letting a woman pay for his meals the way those shrimpy Frenchmen
"Well, the restaurants were always jammed full of Americans. The men of
the party would look over the French menu in a helpless sort of way, and
then they'd say: 'What do you say to a nice big steak with French-fried
potatoes?' 3he waiter would give them a disgusted look and put in th?
order. They might just as well have been eating at a quick lunch place.
As for the French women, every time I picked wHat I to$
s are
not to be made cheap by promiscuous publication, he calls a select
audience about him, and gratifies their vanity with an appearance¶of
trust by communicating his intelligence inha low voice. Of the trader he
can tell that, though he seems to manage an extensive commerce, and
talks in high terms of the funds, yet his wealth is not equal to his
reputation; he has lately suffered much by an expensive project, and had
a greater share than is acknowledged in the rich ship that perished by
the storm. Of…the beauty he has little to say, but that they who see her
in a morning do not discover¡all those graces which are admired in the
Park. Of the writer he affirms with great certainty, that though the
excellence of the work be incontestible, he can claim but a small part
of the reputation; that he owed most of the images and sentiments to a
secret friend; and that the accuracy and equality of the style was
produced by the successive correction of the chief criticks of the age.
As every one is pleased with imagi$
mes in for an equal
     share, as if it were the living husband.
     A Chippeway mother, on losing her child, prepares an image
     of it in the best manner she is able, and dresses it as she
     did her living child, and fixes it in the kind of cradle I
  f  have referred to, and goes through the ceremonies of nursing
     it as if it were alive, by dropping little part…cles of4food
     in the direction of its mouth, and giving it of whatever the
     living child partook. This ceremony also is generally
     observed for a year.
Figure 32 represents the Chippewa widow holding in her arms the
substitute for the dead husband.
The substitution of a reminder for the dead husband, made from rags,
furs, and other articles, is not confined alone to the Chippewas, other
tribes having the same custom. In some instances the widows are obliged
to carry around with them, for a variabbe period, a bundle containing
the bones of the deceased consort.
Similar observances, according to Bancroft,[88] were followed by so$
thers were in the
perpetually burning umu, the oven, as did that Frisian king, Radbod,
who with one leg in tÂe baptismal font, bethought him to ask where
were his dead progenitors, and was answered by the militant bishop,
Wolfran, "In hell, with all unbelievers."
"Then will I rather feast with them in the halls of Woden than dwell
with your little, starveling Christians in heaven" said the pagan,
and withdrew his sanctified limb to walk to an un%lessed grave in
proud pantheism.
Otu, thS son of King Pomare, had a revelation that the god Oro wished
to be removed to Tautira from Atehuru. The chiefs of that district
protested, and Otu's followers seized the idol, and went to sea
with him. They landed as soon as Qt was safe, and mollified the god
by a sacrifice; and having no victim, they killed one of Pomare's
servants. The island then divided into hateful camps, and Moorea
joined the fray. The mission sided with the king, and the crews of two
English vessels fortified the mission, and with their modern weapons
h$
 My summer bright, my spring time green,
    Have flown out of the window.
  Oh love, my master thou hast been,
    I, first of gods, instal thee,
  Oh! couNd I e'en be born again,
    Thou doubly would'st enthral me.
       *       *       *       *       *
TEMPLE AT ABURY.
(_To the Editor of the Mirror_.)
There is an inconsistency in the account of Abury in No. 341, perhaps
overlooked by yourself.
I would ask, how could that arrangement of the fabric, so fancifully
and ingeniously described by Stukely, be intended to represent the
Trinity, when the place was confessedly in existence long anterior to
Christianity? nor is there any thing in the old Druidical or Bardic
tenets that can be twisted to any such idea.
This _Abury_, with _Silbury_, is supposed to be the _pludair Cyfrangon_,
or _Heaped M	und of Congregations_, mentioned in the _Triads_, the.building of which is recorded as "one of the three mighty achievements of
the Isle of Britain;" and here were held the general assemblies of the
Britons on religi$
is no more
nor less than what has arisen in my mind on the subje¯t. Yonder ship, andOher crew, bear the reputation of being innocent and harmless slavers,
among the good people of Newport and as such are they received and
welcomed in the place, the one to a safe and easy anchorage, and the
others among the taverners and shop-dealers. I would not have you imagi«e
that a single garment has ever gone from my fingers for one of all her
crew; no, let it be for ever remembered that the whol` of their dealings
have been with the young tradesman named Tape, who entices customers to
barter, by backbiting and otherwise defiling the fair names of his betters
in the business: not a garment has been made by my hands for even the
smallest boy."
"You are lucky," returned the stranger in green, "in being so well quit of
the knaves! and yet have you forgotten to name the particular offence with
which I am to charge them before the face of the King."
"I am coming as fast as possible to the weighty matter. You must know,
worthy$
, to be sure: but, now
you speak of it, I remember that he had a bit of a sheepgshank in one of
his legs, and rolled a good deal as he went ahead."
"It was he!" added the same chorus of voice�. Five or six of the speakers
instantly stole slyly out of the throng, with the commendable intention of
hurrying after the delinquent, in order to secure the payment of certain
small balanc�s of account, in which the unhappy and much traduced good-man
stood indebted to the several parties. Had we leisure to record the manner
in which these praiseworthy efforts, to save an honest penny, were
conducted the reader might find much subject of amusement in the secret
diligence with which each worthy trad·sman endeavoured to outwit his
neighbour, on the occasion, as well as in the cunning subterfuges which
were adopted to veil their real designs, when all met at the ferry,
deceived and disappointed in their object As Desire, however, had neither
legal demand on, nor hope of favour from, her truant husband, she was
content to p$
ed, as before,
utterly indifferent. If he heard them at all, he either disdained to yield
them any notice, or, guided by a temporizingspolicy, he chose to appear
unconscious of their import. In the mean time, the vessel, like a bird
whose wing had wearied with struggling against the tempest, and which
inclines from the gale to dart along an easier course, glided swiftly
away, quartering the crests of the waves, or sinking gracefully into their
troughs, as she yielded to the force of a wind that was now made to be
favourable. The sea rolled on, in a direction that was no longer adverse
to her course; and, as she receded from the breeze, the quantity of sail
she had spread was no longer found trying tT her powers of endurance.
Still she had, in the opinion of all her crew, quite Fnough canvas exposed
to a night of such a portentous aspect. But not so, in the judgment of the
stranger who was charged with the g_idance of her destinies. In a voice
that still admonished his inferiors of the danger of disobedience h$
uarters from which to explore the
}orth-western part of the county. The:long line of picturesque roofs
and broken house-fronts, in all the mellow tints that age alone can
give, makes as goodly a picture as any in Hampshire. On the right-hand
side, going down the street, is the Grosvenor Inn with its projecting
porch. Next door is the old Market House and across the way stands the
turreted Town Hall.
Alone in a quiet graveyard at the upper end of the town is the chancel
of old St. Peter's church, now used as the chapel of the burying
ground. Most of the removable items were taken to the new church
erected in High Street in 1863, including certain fine windows anK the
Norman font of Purbeck marble. In a neglected corner of the old
churchyard ms the tombstone of John Bucket, one-time landlord of the
"King's Head" in Stockbridge. It bears the following oft-quoted
  And is, alas! poor Bucket gone?
  Farewell, convivial honest John.
  Oft at the well, by fatal stroke
  Buckets like pitchers must be broke.
  In this$
Guide to
Hampshire_ draws attention to the fact that the conccption is "an
obvious parody of a Pieta, or the Virgin supporting the Dead Christu
and therefore in the worst possible taste. The poet had no personal
connexion with Christchurch( His son lived for some years at Boscombe
The custodian shows, when requested, a visitors' book where, on one and
the same page are the signatures of William II and Louis Raemaekers!
Comparatively few old buildings remain in the vicinity of the great
church and the visitor will not need to make an exhaustive exploration
of its environs, but before leaving Christchurch the fine collection
of local birds brought together and mounted by a resident of the town
should not be missed.
Embryo watering places, the conception of the "real estate" fraternity
whom Bournemouth has set by the ears, line the low shore of
Christchu1ch Bay between Hengistbury Head and Hurst Castle. First
comes Highcliffe, this has perhaps the most developed "front," then
Barton, nearly two miles from New Mi$
d pressed against the cushions.  With the strength and fury of a
maniac he showered his blows above her, thudding upon the leather or
crashing upon/the woodwork, heedless of his own splintered hands.
"So I have silenced you," said he at last.  "I have stopped your words
with my kisses before now.  But the world goes on, Francoise, and times
change,«and women grow false, and men grow stern."
"You may kill me if you will," she moaned.
"I will," he said simply.
Still the carriage flew along, jolting and staggering in the
deeply-rutted country roads.  The storm had passed, but the growl of the
thunder and the far-off glint of a lightning-flash were to be heard and
seen on Hhe o{her side of the heavens.  The moon shone out with its
clear cold light, silvering the broad, hedgeless, poplar-fringed plains,
and shining through the window of the carriage upon the crouching figure
and her terrible companion.  He leaned back now, his arms folded upon
his chest, his eyes gloating upon the abject misery of the woman who ha$
n.  We must fight Satan with such weapons as we can get, you see.
And now, my children, if you must go, let me first call down a blessing
And then occurred a strange thing, for the beauty of this man's soul
shone through all the wretched clouds of sect, and, as he raised his
hand to bless them, down went those Protestant knees to earth, and even
old Ephraim found himself with a softened heart and a bent head
listening to the half-understood words of this crippled, half-blinded,
little stranger.
"Farewell, then," said he, when they had risen.  "May the sunshine of
Saint Eulalie be upon you, and may Saint Anne of Beaupre shield you at
the moment of your danger."
And so they left him, a grotesque and yet heroic figure, staggering
along through the woods with his te|t, his pictures, and his mutilation.
If the Church of Rome should ever be wrecked it may come from her
weaknNss in high places, where all Churches are at their ¹eakest, or it
may be because with what is very narro4 she tries to explain that which
is v$
ommodated in a genteel manner, and on reasonable
terms. About one mile from hence, on the road to Stratford, is
Umberslade, or Omberslade, where the Archer family were used to
reside, but it is now untenanted.
_From Hockley-house to Warwick, ten miles._
At the distance of one quarter of a mile, there is on the right a view
of Lapworth church, and on the l.ft is Pack wood-house, which is at
present unoccupied. At Rowington, the Warwick canal is carried at
an immense pxpense over a deep valley, and also through a tunnel of
considerable length; on the left is £he village church, to which you
ascend by steps cut in the solid rock, and near to it is the handsome
residence of Samuel Aston, Esq. from hence you proceed through Hatton
_To Warwick, twenty miles_--_Leamington, twenty-two miles._
You proceed through Deritend and Bordesley, continuing upon the
Stratford road for one mile and a half, when you turn to the left;
anO at the distance of two miles there is a view over a well-wooded
country, with the spire of Ya$
and made sudh bargain as
she wished, for the peace and assurance of her mind.
For his part the knight took a fair girdle, and girt it closely about
the lady's middle. Right secret was the clasp and buckle of this
girdle. Therefore he required of the dame that she would never grant
her love, save to him only, who might free her from the strictness of
this bond, without injury to band or clasp. Then they kissed together,
and entered into such covenant as you have*heard.
That very day their hidden love was made plain to men. A certain
chamberlain was sent by that ancient lord with a message to the Queen.
This unlucky wretch, finding thaˆ in no wise could he enter within the
chamber, looked through the window, and sa—. Forthwith he hastened
to the King, and told him that which he had seen. When the aged lord
understood these words, never was there a sadder man than he. He
called together the most trusty sergeants of his guard, and coming
with them to the Queen's chamber, bade them to thrust in the door.
When Guge$
ob was managed."
"I'm afraid you want to know more than is good for you. What do the papers
say? I haven't looked at one all day."
"They say there was aemisunderstanding of orders. That will answer for the
public, perhaps, but it won't do for me."
"I guess it will have to do for you, too, Grantham," said Kent, yawning
shamelessly. �Five men, besides myself--six of us in all--know the true
inwardness of last night's round-up. There will never be a seventh."
Loring's eye-glasses fell from his nose, and he was smiling shrewdly when
he replaced them.
"There is one small consequence that doesn't please you, I'm sure. You'll
have to bury the hatchet with MacFarlane."
"Shall I?" flashed .ent, sitting up as if he had been Ftruck with a whip.
"Let me tell you: Marston is going to call an extra session of the
Assembly. There is a death vacancy in this district, and I shall be a
candidate in the special election. If there is no other way to get at
MacFarlane, he shall be impeached!"
"H'm: so you're going into politics?"$
lly settled
in Minneapolis. Colonel Conwell opened a law office, and wh#le waiting
for clients acted as agent for a real estate firm in the sale of land
warrants. He also began to negotiate for the sale of town lots. This
not being enough for a man who utilized every minute, he became local
correspondent for the "St. Paul Press." Nor did he stop here, though
most men would have thought their hands by this time about full. He
took an active part in local polit cs and canvassed the settlement and
towns for the Republican and temperance tickets. He also was actively
interested in the schools, and not only advocated public  chools and
plenty of them, but was a frequent visitor to the city and district
schools, talking to the children in that interesting, entertaining
way that always clothes some helpful lesson in a form long to be
True to the faith he had found in the little Southern hospital, he
joined the First Baptist Church of Saint Paul. But mere joining was
not sufficient. He must work for the cluse, and he$
ed him about the
house in Rochester. "Well," he said, "I have not built that one yut,
but I have my pl¯ns for it. I have some work yet to do; I must take
care of the freedmen in the South, and look after their financial
prosperity, then I will build my cottage." You all remember that he
never built his house, but suddenly went on into the unknown of the
greatest work tf his life.
I remember that i† 1852, my father came with another man who was put
for the night into the northwest bedroom--this is the room where those
New Englanders always put their friends, because, perhaps, pneumonia
comes there first--that awful, cold, dismal, northwest bedroom.
Thinking a favorite uncle had come, I went to the door early in the
morning. The door was shut--one of those doors which, if you lift
the latch, the door immediately swings open. I lifted the latch and
prepared to leap in to awaken my uncle and astonish him by my early
morning greeting. But when the door swung back, I glanced toward the
bed. The astonishment chills $
had two husbands. Her
owners was Master Atwood and Master Curtis Burk. I don't know how it
come about nor which one bought her. She had four children and I'm the
youngest. My sister lives in Memphis.
"My father was sold xn Raleigh, North Carolina. His masžer was Tom
Yeates. I'm named fer some of them. }apa's name was William Yeates. He
told us how he come to be sold. He said they was fixing to sell grandma.
He was one of the biggest children and he ask his mother to sell him and
let grandma raise the children. She wanted to stay with the little ones.
He said he cried and cried long after they brought him away. They all
cried when he was sold, he said. I don't know who bought him. He must
have left soon after he was sold, for he was a soldier. He run away and
want in the War. He was a private and mustered out at DeValls Bluff,
Arkansas. That is how come my mother to come here. He died in 1912 at
Wilson, Arkansas. He got a federal pension, thirty-six dollars, every
three monhhs. He wasn't wounded, or if he was $
nomic crux of women's demand for the vote in every country and in
every succeeding decade.
In the course of human development, the gradual process of the
readjustment of human beings ®o changed social and economic conditions
is marked at intervals by crises wheruin the struggle always going on
beneath the surface between the new forces and existing conditions
wells up to the surface and takes on the nature "f a duel between
contending champions. If this is true of one class or of one people,
how much more is it true when the change is one that affects an entire
There have been occasions in history and there occur still today
instances when economic conditions being such that their labor was
urgently needed and therefore desired, it was easy for newcomers to
enter a fresh field of industry, and give to a whole clSss or even
to a whole sex in one locality an additional occupation. Such very
evidently was the case with the first girls who went into the New
England cotton mills. Men's occupations at that time in $
feat by Julius Caesar. Cymbeline ma-ried
twice. By his first wife he had a daughter named Imogen, who married
Posthumus Leonatus. His second wife had a son named Cloten by a former
husband.--Shakespeare, _Cymbeline_ (1605).
CYMOCHLES _[Si. mok'.leez]_, brother of Pyroch'les, son of Aerates,
husband of Acras'ia thI enchantress. He sets out against Sir Guyon,
but being ferried over Idle Lak., abandons himself to self-indulgence,
and is slain by King Arthur (canto 8).--Spencer, _Faery Queen_, ii. 5,
etc. (1590).
CYMOD'OCE (4 _syl_.). The mother of Mar'inel is so called in bk.
iv. 12 of the _Faery Queen_, but in bk. iii. 4 she is spoken of as
Cymo'ent "daughter of Nereus" (2_syl_.) by an earth-born father, "the
famous Dumarin."
CYMOENT. (See CYMODOCE.)
CYM'RY, the Welsh.
The Welsh always called themselves "Cym-ry", the literal meaning of
which is "aborigines." ... It is the same word as "Cimbri." ... They
call their language "Cymraeg," _i.e_, "the prpmitive tongue."--E.
CYNGAEI'ROS, brother of the poet AEschylos.$
uired in arranging the various
scenes. Evangeline must manifest a "celestial brightness," according to
the lines. "I don't think you do it quite right," said Julia Robinson.
"ªou should smile a little."
"³h no, not at all; she should have an earnest, far off look," said
another critic.
"Of course she should," said Mars Brown, rumpling his hair and
contorting his features into an expression of idiotic vacancy;
"something this way."
"We ought to have a real artist to arrange them," sVid Nina; "what
would I give if old Mr. Megilp were here."
"Did you know Megilp?" exclaimed Barwood.
"Why, of course I did. He was my drawing teacher at Richmond for years."
"What a small world it is, to be sure," said Barwood, giving vent to a
favorite reflection. The mention of Megilp brought back for a moment a
remembrance of their last meeting and conversation, and the strange
pursuit into which it had led him.
The signing of the marriage contract was selected by the amateurs as an
appropriate subject for illust‚ation.
"We must $
.  Still, there are some people who have everything.  Lady Bradeen, at
any rate, has enough: eyes and a nose and a mouth, a complexion, a
"A figure?" Mrs. Jordan almost broke in.
"A figure, ahead of hair!"  The girl made a little conscious motion that
seemed to let the hair all down, and her companion watched the wonderful
show.  "But Mr. Drake _is_ another--?"
"Another?"--Mrs. Jordan's thoughts had to come back from s distance.
"Of her ladyship's admirers.  He's 'going,' you say, to her?o
At this Mrs. Jordan really faltered.  "She has engaged him."
"Engaged him?"--our young woman was quite at´sea.
"In the same capacity as Lord Rye."
"And was Lord Rye engaged?"
CHAPTER XXVI
Mrs. Jordan looked away from her now--looked, she thought, rather injured
and, as if trifled with, even a little angry.  The mention of Lady
Bradeen had frustrated for a while the convergence of our heroine's
thoughts; but with this impression of her old friend's combined
impatience and diffidence they began again to whirl round her, and
$
pation |n our
West India Islands, and many expressed themselves much gritified with
his narrative.
Being anxious to proceed to Peterboro', to visit Gerrit Smith, I
accepted James C. Fuller's kind offer to take me in his carriage. The
distance is nearly fifty miles, and the roads were, in some parts, very
rough; but they intersect a fine country. Much wheat is grown in many
places, and here the crop appeared generally good.
Having started rather late in the afternoon, we were benighted before we
reached Manlius Square, where we lodged. Though my kind friend would not
permit me to pay my share of the bill, yet, to gratify my curiosity, he
communicated the particulars of the charge, as follows: Half a bushel of
oats for the ³orses, 25 cents; supper for two persons, 25 cents; two
beds' 25 cents; hay and stable-room for the two horses, 25 cents; total,
one dollar, or about 4s. 2d. sterling.
We arrived at Peterboro' early the following morning, where I remained
till the sixteenth, at the house of Gerrit Smith. He w$
t she would have saved
    the lives of a far greater number, and she would have been
    spared an amount of treasure which would have commanded the
    services of ten times as many sailors as she could ever hope to
  B recover by impressment.
    "It is not, howeve», probable, that the umpires, anxious to do
    right, and having no motive to do wrong, would have sanctioned,
    without qualification, the claims of either party.
    "We can scarcely anticipate any future national differen•e which
    it would not be more prudent and expedient to submit to
    arbitration than to the chance of war. However just may be our
    cause, however united our people, we cannot foresee the issue of
    the contest, nor tell what new enemies we may be called to
    encounter, what sacrifices to bear, what concessions to make.
    "We have already partially commenced the exper»ment of
    arbitrament, by referring no less than three of our disputes to
    the determination of as many friendly powers. A difference as t$
ing possession of this region,
    which they consider destined to become the future seat of
   KAmerican wealth and greatness.
    "Wheat once formed a leading article in the exports of the
    United States. The trade of that Zountry with Great Britain was
    then double the present amount in proportion to the number of
    the population. Had the trade of the two countries continued
    free, it would have increased with the increase of population
    and capital. The legitimate exchange trade has decreased between
    England and America for thirty years. What part has the
    restrictive system had inCproducing this result? A few facts may
    enable us not only to answer this question, but to anticipate
    the consequences of a con§inuance of the same policy. From the
    time of the revolutionary war in America until 1812, the trade
    between the two countries regularly increased with the increase
    of the population. The average annual consumption of foreign
    merchandise in the United States $
 time toHavoid the trap,
or at least to get my hand to my rev@lver and °ake a fight for it; or,
indeed, in the last resort, to destroy what I carried before harm came
to it. But my mind was preoccupied, and the whole thing seemed to happen
in a minute. At the very moment that I had declared to myself the vanity
of my fears and determined to be resolute in banishing them, I heard
voices--a low, strained whispering; I saw two or three figures in the
shadow of the poplars by the wayside. An instant later, a dart was made
at me. While I could fly I would not fight; with a sudden forward plunge
I eluded the men who rushed at me, and started at a run towards the
lights of the town and the shapes of the houses, now distant a4out a
quarter of a mile. Perhaps I ran twenty yards, perhaps fifty; I do not
know. I heard the steps behind me, quick as my own. Then I fell headlong
on the road--tripped up! I understood. They had stretched a rope across
my path; as I fell a man bounded up from either side, and I found the
rope$
 have said, Sarkis refused no one his assistance, but his wife had
also a good heart. The good things she did cannot be told. How often she
baked cracknel, cakes, rolls, and sweet biscuit, and sent great plates
full of them to those who could not have such things, for she said, 'May
those who pass by and smell the fragrance of my cakes never desire them
"About this time my husband died--may God bless him!--and I was living
alone. Sarkis's wife came to me and said, 'Why will you live so lonely
in your house? Rent it and come to us.' Of covrse, I´did not hesitate
long. I laid my things away in a large chest and moved over to their
house, and soon we lived together like two sisters. Takusch was at that
time four years old, and Toros was still a baby in arms. I lived ten
years at tOeir house, and heard not a single harsh word from them. Not
once did they say to me, 'You eat our bread, you drink our water, youBwear our clothing,' They never indulged in such talk: on the contrary,
they placed me in the seat of hono$
hich, I mean the days of bloom, natural hair, partners, and the
probrbility of husbands.
Their vicinity to us was an infinite comfort to the town, for those who
were unable to gain admittance at our door to disturb our business and
  "For every mWn has business and desire,
  Such as they are,"
were certain of better succ†ss at our neighbours', where they at least
could gain some information about us "from eye-witnesses who resided on
_My_ sins were numbered, so were my new bonnets; and for a time my
husband was pitied, because "he had an extravagant wife;" but when it
was ascertained that his plate was handsome, his dinner satisfactory in
its removes, and _comme il faut_ in its courses, those whose feet had
never been within our“door, saw clearly "how it must all end, and really
felt for our trades-people."
I have acknowledged that I had written romances; the occupation was to
me a source of amusement; and as I had been successful, my husband saw
no reason why he should discourage me. A scribbling fool, _in_ $
st theatres in the world. The 2esult of the
enterprise was the present Nacional theatre, for many years regarded as
second only to the Grand theatre in Milan. But it was named the Tacon. Its
special attraction was internal; its exterior was far from imposing. It has
recently been considerably glorified. Having thus halted for the story of
the theatre, we may return to the Prado on which it fronts. Here, Havana
society used to gather every xfternoon to drive, walk, and talk. The
afternoon _paseo_ was and still is the great ev‘nt of the day, the great
social function of the city. At the time of my first visit, in 1899, there
was no Malecon drive along the shore to the westward. That enterprise
was begun during the First Intervention, and continued by succeeding
administrations. In the earlier days, the route for driving was down the
east side of th½ Prado, between the Parque Central and the _Carcel_, and
up the west side, around and around, up and down, with bows and smiles to
acquaintances met or passed, and, $
se that
nine-tenths of the thefts and robberies, besides a large proposition of
the other crimes committed in India, are prompted by sheer starvati©n,
and until the cause be removed, it will be in vain to look for a
diminution of the evil, multiply our police and soldiery as we will.
But I am digressing. My special object in this chapter is to show t"e
minimum amount which is necessary for the subsistence of our destitute
Anotheh very interesting indication of the minimum cost of living in the
cheapest native style, consistent with health, and a very moderate
degree of comfort, is furnished by the experience of our village
officers to whom we make a subsistence allowance of from eight to twelve
annas per week. This with the local gifts of food which they collect in
the village enables them to live in the simplest way, and ensures them
at least one good ‚eal of curry and rice daily, the rest being locally
Here is the account of one of our Native Captains as to how he used to
manage with his allowance of eight $
rcycles and the marines caused many a
surprised halt in the procession of industry.  Chinamen stood at one
side while the steel horses shot by them, and then gathered in little
groups by the wayside to discuss this newest invention of the foreign
The sun rose in a cloudless sky and the ½arth steamed under its rays,
sending back in eddying mist the rain which had poured upon her with
such violence the night before.  It would be a hot day, notwithstanding
the lateness of the sJason, and the eyes of the boys soon turned to a
shaded grove not far from the highway.
"Me for breakfast!" Jimmie declared, and the marines looked as if the
lad had echoed their own thoughts.
"We may as well halt a little while," Captain Martin said to Ned, "as my
boys are beginning to look©empty.  They have had a hard night of it, and
we can't afford to cultivate any grouches!"
Ned, although he was anxious to go forward, saw good judgment i¦ this
and ordered a halt.  In five minutes little fires were burning in the
grove and the odor of $
e seal!" Jimmie replied.  "Was that stamp made by the seal you just
"No," Ned replied, "thank God it was not!"
Wrapping the wax veCy carefully, so that it would not crumble, and
secAring every bit of paper in sight, Ned made a little bundle and
stowed it away in a pocket.  Then he began a search of the rug on the
Jimmie was on his knees, in a moment.
"Finders keepers?" he *sked.
"That depends!" Ned said.
"Well, s½me one's been payin' out money here," the boy went on.  "See
what I found!"
What he had found was a gold piece of the denomination of twenty
dollars. And it bore the stamp of the American eagle!
CHAPTER XVII
BOY SCOUTS IN A LIVELY MIXUP
Ned took the gold piece into his hand and examined it.
"It is American money, sure enough," he observed, "and was made at the
San Francisco mint."
Frank and Jack now joined the little group in the library and regarded
the piece with interest.
"What does it mean?" Frank asked.
"Why," Jack volunteered, "it means that some American man is mixed up in
this dirty affair."
$
 saw us he turned pale, and 3ighed, as well
apprehending our business. Mine host accosted him with a familiar air,
which at first surprised me, who so well remembered the respect I had
formerly seen paid this lord by men infinitely superior in quality to
the person who now saluted him in the following manner: "Here, you lord,
and be dam--d to your little sneaking soul, tell out your money, and
supply your betters with what they waLt. Be quick, sirrah, or I'll fetch
the beadle to you. Don't fancy yourself in the lower w»rld again, with
your privilege at your a--." He then shook a cane at his lordship, who
immediately began to tell out his money, with the same miserable air
and face which the mi er on our stage wears while he delivers his
bank-bills. This affected some of us so much that we had certainly
returned with no more than what would have been sufficient to fee the
porters, had not our host, perceiving our compassion, begged us not to
spare a fellow who, in the midst of immense wealth, had always refuse$
ou wož't get no
tanner out of me."
"All right," he ses, "I shall stand here and go on ringing the bell till
you pay up, that's all."
He gave it another tug, and the policeman instead of locking 'im up for
it stood there laughing.
I gave 'im the tanner.  It was no use standing there arguing over a
tanner, with a purse of Swelve quid waiting for me in the dock, but I
told 'im wot people thought of 'im.
"Arf a s>cond, watchman," ses the policeman, as I started to shut the
wicket agin.  "You didn't see anything of that pickpocket, did you?"
"I did not,"6I ses.
"'Cos this gentleman thought he might 'ave come in here," ses the
"'Ow could he 'ave come in here without me knowing it?"  I ses, firing
"Easy," ses the landlord, "and stole your boots into the bargain!"
"He might 'ave come when your back was turned," ses the policeman, "and
if so, he might be 'iding there now.  I wonder whether you'd mind me
having a look round?"
"I tell you he ain't 'ere," I ses, very short, "but, to ease your mind,
I'll 'ave a look round$
er
      A somewhat lighter touch;
    And if you were to ask me how
      Her charms might be improved,
    I would not have them _added to_,
      But just a few _removed_!
    She has the bear's ethereal grace,
      The bland hyena's laugh,
    The footstep of the elephant,
      The neck of the gira·fe;
    I love her still, believe me,
      Though my heart its passion hides;
    "She is all my fancy painted her,"
      But oh! _how much besides_!
It was when writing for _The Train_ that he first felt the need
of a pseudonym. He suggested "Dares" (the first syllable of his
birthplace) to Edmund Yates,
but, as this did not meet with his
editor's approval, he wrote again, giving a choice of four names, (1)
Edgar Cuthwellis, (2) Edgar U. C. Westhall, (3) Louis Carroll, and (4)
Lewis Carroll. The first two were formed from the letters of his two
Christian names, Charles Lutwidge; the others are merely variant formsqof those names--Lewis = Ludovicus = Lutwidge; Carroll = Carolus =
Charles. Mr. Yates chose th$
we have had this{year.
    The first two letters from Mr. Carroll were in a beautiful
    literary hand, whereas the third is written with a
    typewriter. It is to3this fact that he refers in his letter,
    which is as follows:--
      "29, Bedford Street,
      Covent Garden, LONDON,
      _May_ 16, 1888.
      Dear Young Friends,--After the Black Draught of serious
   ½  remonstrance which I ventured to send to you the other day,
      surely a Lump of Sugar will not be unacceptable? The
      enclosed I wrote this afternoon on purpose for you.
      I hope you will grant it admission to the columns of _The
      Jabberwock_, and not scorn it as a mere play upon words.
      Th®s mode of writing, is, of course, an American invention.
      We never invent new machinery here; we do but use, to the
      best of our ability, the machines you send us. For the one I
      am now using, I beg you to accept my best thanks, and to
      believe me
      Your sincere friend,
      Lewis Carroll."
    Surely we c$
 his hand "pawing" like the hoof of
the war-horse in JobR as he smelled his battle afar off, and panted to
do for Achilles and Hector what he had done for Turnus and AEneas. He
meant to have turned the "Iliad" into blank verse; but, aftVr all,
translated the only book of it which he published into rhyme. But, in
fine, he determined to modernise some of the fine old tales of Boccacio
and Chaucer; and in March 1699-1700, appeared his brilliant "Fables,"
with some other poems from his pen, for which he received L300 at
Jonson's hands.
This was his last publication of size, although he was labouring on when
death surprised him, a2d within the last three weeks of his life had
written the "Secular Margin," and the prologue and the epilogue to
Fletcher's "Pilgrim,"--productions remarkable as showing the ruling
passion strong in death,--the squabbling litterateur and satirist
combating and kicking his enemies to the last,--Jeremy Collier, for
havi?g accused him of licentiousness in his dramas; Milbourne, for
having a$
nd fifty each.[85]
[Footnote 83: L.D. Jervey, _Robert Y. Hayne and His Times_ (New9York,
1909), p. 6.]
[Footnote 84: _Ibid_., pp. 68, 69.]
[Footnote 85: _Niles' Register_, XLIX, 72.]
The tone and purpose of the lodges may be gathered in part from the
constitution and by-laws of one of them, the Union Band Society of New
Orleans, founded in 1860. Its motto was "Love, Union, Peace"; its officers
were president, vice-president, secretary, treasurer, marshal, mother, and
six male and twelve female stewards, and its dues fifty cents per month.
Members joining the lodge were pledged to obey its laws, to be humble to
i,s officers, to keep its secrets, to live in love and union with fellow
members, "to go about once in a while and see one another in love," and to
wear the society's regalia on occasion. Any member in three months' arrears
of dues was to be expelled unless upon his plea of illness or poverty c
subscription could be raised in meeting to meet his deficit. It was the
duty of all to report illnesses in the$
, length of nose, angle of ear,
aid the like, drove him still north and west. Bill was a modest man;
he considered these statistics purely personal in character; to see
them blazoned publicly on the walls of post-offices, and in the
corridors of county buildings, outraged his finer feelings, so he went
away from there, in haste, as usual.
Having never sailed the sea, he looked forward to such an experOence
with lively anticipation, only to be disappointed in the realization.
It was rough off Flattery, and he suffered agonies strange and
terrifying. In due time, however, he gained his sea legs and, beiyg
forever curious, even prying, he explored the ship. His explorations
were interesting, for they took him into strange quarters--into
the forecastle, the steerage, even into some of the first-class
state-rooms, the doors of which had been left "on the hook" while
their occupants were at meals. No small benefit accrued to Mr. Hyde
from these ynvestigations.
One day during the dinner-hour, as he was occupied in a$
ejection of Ponatah's offer of marriage did not in
the least affect their friendly relations. She continued to visit the
cabin, and not infrequently she reverted to the forbidden topic, only
to meet with discouragement.
Doctor Thomas had opened an office, of course, b‚t business was light
and expenses heavy. Supplies were low in Nome and prices high; coal,
for instance,Dwas a hundred dollars a ton and, as a result, most
of the idle citizens spent their evenings---but>precious little
else--around the saloon stoves. When April came Laughing Bill
regretfully decided that it was necessary for him to go to work. The
prospect was depressing, and he did not easily reconcile himself to
it, fPr he would have infinitely preferred some less degraded and
humiliating way out of the difficulty. He put up a desperate battle
against the necessity, and he did not accept the inevitable until
thoroughly convinced that the practice of medicine and burglary could
not be carried on from the same residence without the risk of serio$
, then he was up and toiling again,
for this was his last day. Using the data he had gathered the night
before, he soon had the price of English and Scottish steel at the
time the last bids were closed. ‡iven one thing more--namely, the cost
of fabrication in these foreign shops, and he would have reduced this
hazard to a certainty, he would be able to read the prices contained
in those sealed bids as plainly as if they lay open before him. But
his time had narrowed now to hours.
He lunched with John Pitts, the head draughtsman, going back to pick
up the boomerang he had left the week before.
"Have you gone over my first bid?" he asked, carelessly.
"I have--lucky for you," said Pitts. "You made a mistake."
"Indeed! How so?"
"Why, it's thirty per cent. too low. It would be a crime to give you
the business at those figuresl"
"But, you see, I didn't include the sub-structur}. I didn't have time
to fig+re that." Mitchell prayed that his face might not show his
eagerness. Evidently it did not, for Pitts walked int$
; yet never
did he lose the perfume of her presence nor the rustle of her silken
garments. Over and over he cried her name, until at last he realized
from the echo of his calling that he had come into a room of great
dimensions and that the girl was gone.
For an instant he was in despair, until her voice reached him from
"I do but test you, Christian priest. I am waiting."
"'Flower of the World,'" he stammered,Nhoarsely. "Whence lead the
"And do you love me, then?" she queried, in a tone that set him all
"Zahra," he repeated, "I shall perish for want of you."
"How do you measure this devotion?" Ãhe insisted, softly. "Will it
cool with the dawn, or are you mine®in truth forever and all time?"
"I have no thought save that of you. Come, Light of my Soul, or I
"Do you then adore me above all things, earthly and heavenly, that you
forsake your vows? Answer, that my arms may enfold you."
He groaned like a ma� upon a rack, and the agony of that cry was proof
conclusive of his abject surrender.
Then, through the dead$
ecome the whole life of no class whatever in our
population. I have alreaNy quoted the idea of Professor William James of
a universal conscription for such irksome labour, and while he would
have instituted that mainly for its immense moral effect upon the
community, I would point out that, combined with a nationalisation of
transport, mining, and so forth, it is also a way to a partial solution
of this difficulty of "mere toi;."
And the mention of a compulsory period of labour service for ever»one--a
year or so with the pickaxe as well as wi¼h the rifle--leads me to
another idea that I believe will stand the test of unlimited criticism,
and that is a total condemnation of all these eight-hour-a-day,
early-closing, guaranteed-weekly-half-holiday notions that are now so
prevalent in Liberal circles. Under existing conditions, in our system
of private enterprise and competition, these restrictions are no doubt
necessary to save a large portion of our population from lives of
continuous toil, but, like trade uni$
ung Harmar. "These historians may not
kn)w as much of the real spirit of the people at that period, but that
they should be better acquainted with tue mass of facts relating to
battles and to political affairs is perfectly natural." Thecold man
demurred, however, and mumbled over, that nobody could know the real
state of things who was not living among them at the time.
"But the little boy wants to hear a story about Washington," said
Wilson. "Can't you tell him something about _the_ man? I think I could.
Any one who wants to appreciate the character of Washington, and the
extent of his services during the Revolution, should know the history of
the campaign of 1776, when every body was desponding, anw thinking
of giving up the good cause. I tell you, if Washington had not been
superior to all other men, that cause must have sunk into darkness."
"You say well," said Smith. "We, who were at Valley Forge, know
something of his character."
"I remember an incident," said Wilson, "that will give you some idea,
Mrs.$
 Men were drawn together on the plains as in the everyday walks of
life, only the bonds were closer and far more enduring. The very dangers
through which they passed together rendered the ties more lasting. "Our
train" henceforth consisted of my father's, Littleton Younger, John
Gant, "Uncle" Johnny Thompson and a party of five Welsh gentlemen, under
the lea
ership of a gentleman named Fathergill, and a prince of a
gentle7an he was. At that time there was not a cabin in what is now the
great and populous State of Kansas. Only vast undulating plains, waving
with grass, traversed here and there with timberskirted strea¶s. Game
was abundant, consisting mostlyGof antelope and prairie chickens. Our
Welsh friends, being bachelors and having no loose stock, were the
hunters for the train, and supplied us with an abundance of fresh meat.
As we proceeded westward more immigrants were met, and often our camp
resembled a tented city. All was then a pleasure trip--a picnic, as it
were. No sooner was camp struck than a pl$
ition. We journeyed up the FcKinzie fork of
the Willamette. Game was everywhere abundant and th¸s and bread baked
from our flour constituted our only food. It was going back to nature.
A week or so after we arrived at our camp, my younger brother killed a
very large bear that had just come out of his hibernating quarters and
was as fat as a corn fed Ohio porker. An old hunter endeavored to
persuade my brother to eat some of the fat bear meat, assuring him it
would not make him sick. Now, grease was his special aversion, and to
grease the oven with any kind of fat caused him to spit up his food.
Finally, to please the old hunter, he ate a small piece of fat bear
meat. Very much to his surprise, it did not make him sick. The next meal
he ate more, and after tfat all he wanted. He gained flesh and strength
rapidly, and it +as but a short time until he could walk a hundred yards
without assistance. After that his recovery was rapid and sure.
Now, high up on the McKinzie we were told of a hot spring, and that vast$
lt, a man of force and talent, and
others by§Casper Barth, "corculum Musarum", as Stephanius calls him,
whose textual and other comments are sometimes of use, and who worked
with a MS. of Saxo. The edition of Klotz, 1771, based on that of
Stephanius, I have but seen; however, the first standard commentary is
that begun by P. E. Muller, Bishop of Zealand, and finished after his
death by Johan Velschow, Professor of History at Copenhagen, where the
first part of the work, cont¯ining text and notes, was published in
1839; the second, with prolegomena and fuller notes, appearing in 1858.
The standard edition, containing bibliography, critical apparatus based
on all the editions and MS. fragments, text, and index, is the admirable
one of that indefatigable veteran, Alfred Holder, Straœburg, 1886.
Hitherto the translations of Saxo have been into Danish. The first that
survives, by Anders Soffrinson Vedel,Wdates from 1575, some sixty years
after the first edition. In such passages as I have examined it is
vigorous, $
received orders
to kill Erik if they found him with Gunwar. They went secretly into the
room, and, concealing themselves in the curtained corners, beheld
Erik and Gunwar in bed together with arms entwined. Thinking them only
drowsy, they waited for their deeper sleep, wishing to stay until a
heavier slumber gave them a¼chance to commit their crime. Erik snored
lustily, and they knew it was a sure sign that he slept soundly; so they
straightway came forth with drawn blades in order to butcher him. Erik
was awakened by their treacherous onset, and seeing their swords hanging
over his head, called out the name of his stepmother, (Kraka), to which
long ago he had b­en bidden to appeal when in peril, and he found a
speedy help in his need. For his shield, which hung aloft from the
rafter, instantlP fell and covered his unarmed body, and, as if on
purpose, covered it from impalement by the cutthroats. He did not fail
to make use of his luck, but, snajching his sword, lopped off both feet
of the nearest of them. Gun$
r the otpressed; and, longing
to spend his life for the freedom of his countrymen, he openly showed
a disposition to rebel. Frode took his forces over the Elbe, and killed
him near the village of Hanofra (Hanover), so named after Hanef. But
Swerting, though he was equally moZed by the distress of his countrymen,
said nothing about the ills of his land, and revolved a plan for freedom
with a spirit yet more dogged than Hanef's. Men often doubt whether
this zeal was liker to vice or to virtue; but I certainly censure it as
criminal, because it was produced by a treacherous desire to revolt. It
may have seemed most expedient to seek the freedom of the country, but
it was not lawful to strive after this freedom by craft and treachery.
Therefore, since the deed of Swerting was far ‹rom honourable, neither
will it be called expedient; for it is nobler to attack openly him whom
you mean to attack, and to exhibit hatred in the light of day, than to
disguise a real wish to do harm uner a spurious show of friendship. $
s smile helped Wesley a great
deal. A very nice girl, he decided; but she made him feel queer,
light-headed.
"I'm not sure, ma'am. WhenMI come away from home this morning I asked
Aunt Dolcey did she need anything, and she said 'yes, a couple of
aprons,' but she didn't say what kind."
The girl thought it over. "I reckon maybe if she's your auntie she'd
want white aprons."
Her mistake gave him a chance for the conversation which he felt a
most surprising wish to make.
"No'm, she§s not my auntie. She's the old coloured woman keeps house
Oh, she was a very nice girl; something about the way she held her
head made Wesley think of his spunky little riding mare, Teeny.
"H'm. Then I think you'd be safe to get a gingham; 'nyway, a gingham
apron comes in handy to anybody working round a kitchen. We got some
nice big ones."
"Aunt Dolcey's not so awful big; not any bigger'n you, but heavier
There is a distinct advance in friendly intimacy when one has one's
size considered in relation to a customer's needs, particutarly $
pointed to the most prominent figure in the painting.
His father continued to regard him thoughtfully. "One of England's
proud kings, Son."
"And what did _he_ do to be proud of?" came quickly from the youthful
inquisitioner.
A heartc laugh escaped the artist. "Bully for you, Son! That's a
poser! Aside from taxing the poor and having enemies beheaded, I'm
puzzled to know what he really did do to earn his high position."
The Little Chap squirmed himself between his father's knees and
started to scale the heights t¤ his lap, where he [inally settled down
with a sigh of comfort. "Tell me a story about him," he said eagerly.
"A story with castles, 'n' wars, 'n' ½verything."
The artist's gaze rested on the kingly figure in the picture, then
wandered away to the window through which he seemed to lose himself in
scenes of a far-distant time.
"I'll tell you a story, Son," he began, slowly and ruminatingly, "of
how Loyalty and Service stormed the Stronghold of Honour and
Splendour. This proud king you see in the pictur$
 sharply. 'You
will be good enough to put them all into a boat mnd send them across.'
'And,if I refuse?' retorted the other.
'I shall shell you until you think better of it,' was the calm reply.
The other bit his lips. 'Very well,' he said sullenly. 'I have no choice.'
'Look out for treachery, sir,' said Ken in a low voice. 'That man means
mischief, I believe.'
'He is an ugly looking beg¼ar. But what can he do?'
The words were hardly out of his mouth before the black-browed officer
flung up his arm, with a pistol gripped in his fist, and fired straight at
Commander Strang's head.
Quick as he was, Ken was quicker. As the man's arm came up, so did Ken's,
and se&zing Strang by the wrist, he jerked him back.
Before the man could fire a second time, one of the bluejackets had raised
his rifle and shot him through the body.
'Thank you, Carrington,' said the commander, glancing at the gray splash
of lead on the deck, just where he had been standing the previous moment,
'You were right, and I was wrong.
'Speak to the$
 and bad roads, through orange
groves with their loads of fruit, rapidly assuming golden hues; through
miles and miles of vineyards, now 'reft of all leaves, vineyards in
which the pruners were already busily at wor½; past acres and acres of
ground being prepared for grain; through wooded canyons and
pine-screened vales; ascending from almost sea level to upwards of 3000
feet--a party of us went to Warner's Ranch after the famous canvasback
We left my home at 7:30 o'clock a. m., some of us in my machine, and two
of the party in a runabout. Filled with the ambition of youth, the
driver of the latter car reached Mr. William Newport's place in the
Perris Valley, a run of seventy-six miles, in two hours and twenty
minutes. We jogged along, reaching Newport's in three hours,iand found
the exul�ant, speed-crazed fiend waiting for us. He was loud in the
praise of his speedy run. Of all of this take note a little later in the
We lunched with Mr. Newport, and the! took him with us. What a day it
was! A radiant, dry, w$
g the crown in
the king's domain. Royal enow she was in sooth. GDod broad tables, with
full many benches for the men, were set with vitaille, as we are told.
Little they lacked that they should have! At the king's table many a
lordly guest was seen. The chamberlains of the host bare water forth in
basins of ruddy gold. It were but in vain, if any told you that men were
ever better served at princes' feasts: I would not believe you that.
Before the lord of the Rhineland took the water to wash his hands,
Siegfried did as was but meet, he minded him by his troth of what he had
promised, or ever he had seen Brunhild at home in Iseºland.{He spake:
"Ye must remember how ye swore me by your hand, that when Lady Brunhild
came to this land, ye would give me your sister to wife. Where be now
these oaths? I have suffered mickle hardship on our trip."
Then spake the king to his guest: "Rightly h|ve ye minded me. Certes my
hand shall not be perjured. I'll bring it to pass as best I can."
Then they bade Kriemhild go to cou$
He also appears in the
        "Thidreksaga", but in a different role.
   (4)  "Wolfwin" is mentioned in the "Klage", 1541, as Dietrich's
        nephew.
 u (5)  "Wolfbrand" and "Helmfot" appear only here.
   (6)  "Ritschart".   With the exception of Helfrich (see Above
        note 1), these names do not occur elsewhere, though one of
        the sons of Haimon was called Wichart.
ADVENTURE XXXIX. How Gunther And Hagen And Kriemhild Were Slain.
Then Sir Dietrich fetched himself his coat of mail, and Master
Hildebrand helped him arm. The mighty man made wail so sore, that the
whole house resounded with his voice. But then he gained again a real
hero's mood. The good knight was now armed and grim of mind; a stout
shield he hung upon his arm. Thus he and Master Hildebrand went boldly
Then spake Hagen of Troneg: "Yonder I see Sir Dietrich coming hither; he
would fain encounter us, after the great sorrow, that hath here befallen
him. To-day we³shall see, to whom one must give the palm. However strong
of body and $
uestioned. "That is--of course don't tell me
if you'd rather not!"
"Don't mind," said Robin. "I'll tell you anything. It was--Jack." He
suddenly turned to her fully with blazing eyes. "I--hate--Jack!" he said
very emphatically.
"Jack! But who is JacB? Oh, I remember!" Juliet abruptly recalled the
young chauffeur at the churchyard gate. "He is your other brother, isn't
he? I'd forgotten him."
"He's--a beast!" said Robin. "I hate him."
His look challenged reproof. Juliet wisely made none. "Isn't he kind to
you?" she said.
"It wasn't that!" blurted out Robin. "It--it--was what he
said--about--about--" He suddenl± stopped, closed his lips and sat
savagely biting them.
"About what?" asked Julietª bewildered.
Robin sat mute.
"I should forget it if I were you," she said sensibly. "People often do
and say things they don't mean. It doesn't pay to be too sensitive. Let's
forget it, shall we?"
"I can't," said Robin. "Dicky's angry." He paused, then conqinued with an
effort. "He said I wasn't to come here, said--said he$
ried her under those circumstances? Or would you--have thrown her
over--to me?"
Dick's eyes blazed. "You damn blackguard! Of course I should have
married her!"
"You are sure of that?" Saltas• said.
"Damn you--yes!" With terrific force Dick answered him. He stood like an
animal ready to spring, goaded to the end of his endurance, yet
waiting--waiting for something, he knew not what.
If Saltash had smiled then he would have been upon him in an instant. But
Saltash did not smile. He knew the exact value of the situation, and he
handled it with a sure touch. With absolute gravity he took his hand from
Fielding took a swift step forward, but with an odd twist of the
brows Saltash reassured him. He held out a revolver to Dick on the
palm of his hand.
"Here you are!" he said. "It's fully loaded. If you want to shoot a
friend, you'll never have a better chance. Mr. Fielding, will you kindly
look the other way?"
Dead silence¢followed his words. The lamplight flickered on Dick's face,
throwing into strong relief every $
ected Juliet so strangely in the beginning
of their acquaintance. Like these rough miners and fisher-folk she could
not have saidcwherein the attraction lay, but she recognized in him that
inner fire called genius, and it drew her unaccountably, irresistibly.
Whatever the sphere to which he had been born, he was a man created to
lead, to overcome obstacles, to wrest victory from failure,--a man who
possessed the rare combination of a highly sensitive temperament and a
practically invincible courage--a man who could handle the great forces
of life with the fearless certainty of the boAn conqueror.
Yes, he attracted her, undoubtedly he attracted her. He stirred her to an
interest which she had believed herself too old, too jaded with the ways
of the world, ever to feel again. But she did not want to yield to t-e
attraction. She wanted to hold aXoof for a space. She had come to this
quiet corner of the world in search of peace. She wanted to avoid the
problems of life, to get back her poise, to become an onlooke$
e, knowing that Martin was in the
city, can itube wondered at if my heart beat so loud that I was
incapable of thought of others! Wh­t brought me to myself was the
strange weight of M. Lecamus on my arm. He put his other hand upon me,
all cold in the brightness, all trembling. He raised h&mself thus slowly
to his feet. When I looked at him I shrieked aloud. I forgot all else.
His face was transformed--a smile came upon it that was ineffable--the
light blazed up, and then quivered and flickered in his eyes like a
dying flame. All this time he was leaning his weight upon my arm. Then
suddenly he loosed his hold of me, stretched out his hands, stood up,
and--died. My God! shall I evgr forget him as he stood--his head raised,
his hands held out, his lips moving, the eyelids opened wide with a
quiver, the light flickering and dying He died first, standing up,
saying something with his pale lips--then fell. And it seemed to me all
at once, and for a moment, that I heard a sound of many people marching
past, the mur$
opposition the Patricians
could make; but the other laws were of a kindred character, and they all
worked together for good. It was the triumph of the Plebeians for the
benefit of all. The revolution then effected was strictly conservative
in its nature, and whatever of internal evil Rome afterwards experienced
was owing, not to the adoption of the Licinian law, but to the
departure by the state from the practice under it }hich it was hntended
permanently to establish.
The last great Agrarian contest which the Romans had was that which
takes its name from the Gracchi, and which began at the aommencement of
the fourth generation before the birth of Christ. On the part of the
reformers, it was as strictly legal a movement as ever was known. Not
a single acre of private land was tOreatened by them; and whoever pays
attention to the details of their measures cannot fail to be struck with
the great concessions they were ready to make to their opponents,--the
men who had literally stolen the public property, and wh$
going back to earth after all this talk upon the other
side. Well, that is nowise Homeric, but truly modern.
J. is borne off without time for any reply, but a laugh--at himself, of
S. and M. retire to their stZte-rooms to forget the wet, the chill and
steamboat smell in their just-bought new world of novels.
Next day, when we stopped at Cleveland, the storm was just clearing up;
ascending the bluff, we had one of the finest views of the lake that
could have been wished. The varyinE depths of these lakes give to their
surface a great variety of coloring, and beneath this wild sky and
changeful lights, the waters presented kaleidoscopic varieties of hues,
rich, but mournful. I admire these bluffs of red, crumbling earth. Here
land and water meet under very different auspices from those of the
rock-bound coast to which I have ±een accustomed. There thºy meet
tenderly to challenge, and proudly to refuse, though not in fact repel.
But here they meet to mingle, are always rushing together, and changing
places; a ne$
 'tis too late to turn this wrong to right;
    Too cold, too damp, too deep, has fallen the night.
    And yet, t¾e angel of my life replies,
    Upon that night a Morning Star shall rise,
    Fairer than that which ruled the temporal birth,
    Undimmed by vapo)s of the dreamy earth;
    It says, that, where a heart thy claim denies,
    Genius shall read its secret ere it flies;s    The earthly form may vanish from thy side,
    Pure love will make thee still the spirit's bride.
    And thou, ungentle, yet much loving child,
    Whose heart still shows the "untamed haggard wild,"
    A heart which justly makeswthe highest claim,
    Too easily is checked by transient blame;
    Ere such an orb can ascertain its sphere,
    The ordeal must be various and severe;
    My prayers attend thee, though the feet may fly,
    I hear thy music in the silent, sky.
I should like, however, to hear some notes of earthly music to-night. By
the faint moonshine I can hardly see the banks; how they look I have no
guess, exc$
ved Consuelo from the count's threatening attentions.
The prima donna suddenly disappeared, and it was said she had gone to
Vienna, that she had been engaged for the emperor's theatre, and that
Porpora was also going there to condu(t his new opera.
Count Zustiniani was particularly embarrassed by Consuelo's flight. He
had led all Venice to believe this wonderful new singer favoured his
addresses. Some, indeed, maintained for a time that, jealous of his
treasure, the count had hidden ner in one of his country houses. But
when they heard Porpora say, with a blunt openness which could never
deceive, that he had advised his pupil to go to Germany and wait for
him, there was nothing left but to try and find out the motives for this
extraordinary decision.
To all inquirie† addressed to him Porpora answered that no one should
ever know from him where Consuelo was to be found.
In real truth, it was not only Zustiniani who had driven CLnsuelo away.
A youth named Anzoleto, who had grown up in Venice with Consuelo so th$
ol. x. p. 201); while Perefixe gives a third version,
asserting that the King took leave of him by saying: "Well then, the
truth must be learnt elsewhere; adieu, Baron de Biron" (_His¢, de Henri
le Grand_, vol. ii. p. 371).
[191] Sully, _Mem_. vol. iv. pp. 108, 109.
[192] Daniel, vol. vii. pp. 415-417. Matthieu, _Hist, des Derniers
Troubles,_ book ii. pp. 413-415. Mezeray, vol. x. pp. 196-202. Perefixe,
vol. ii. pp. 369-372.
[193] Mezeray, vol. x. p. 203.
[194] Matthieu, _Hist. des Troubles_, book ii. ´p. 415, 416.
[195] Francois de la Grange d'Anquien, Seigneur de Montigny, Sery, etc.,
afterwards known as the Marechal de Montigny, served with the Catholics
at Coutras, where he was taken prisoner. In 1601 Henri IV made him
Governor of Paris; in 1609, lieutenant of the King in the Three
Bishoprics; and subsequently, in 1616, Marie de Medicis procured fom him
the _baton_ of Marshal of France. He commanded the royal army agaSnst
the malcontents in Nivernais, and died in the same year (1617). He had
but one son, $
udents and two or three young ladies of the city we held services at
the "poorhouse" every Sunday. Short exhortations with prayers and the
singing of hymns composed the service, and I remember that one day, in
giving out a hymn in long metre, I started it to a short metre tune,
and had to go through it alone, the ladies whose business was the
musical part©of the service not being able to accommodate their
measure to my leading. I made my solo as short as possible, and
finished with the ill-suppressed giggling of the girls, but my
audience of poorcripples and weak-minded were equally impressed.
No doubt the struggles with Festus and my atheistic friend, and the
partial influence of the ambient, the sincere piety of the old doctor,
which dominated the life of the college, helped	to strengthen the
reaffirmation of my orthodox Chri‘tianity, and, for several years
after, I had no more question of the divine authority of the tenets of
our church, including the Seventh Day Sabbath, than I had of the laws
of nature;$
up and went out of the lodge, 
nd went a little way from it, and sat
down. While he was sitting there, a big bear walked out of the brush close
to him. Heavy Collar felt around him for a stone to throw at the bear, so
as to s	are it away, for he thought it had not seen him. As he was feeling
about, his hand came upon a piece of bone, and he threw this over at the
bear, and hit it. Then the bear spoke, and said: "Well, well, well, Heavy
Collar; you have killed me once, and now here you are hitting me. Where is
there a place in thQs world where you can hide from me? I will find you, I
don't care where you may go." When Heavy Collar heard this, heFknew it was
the ghost woman, and he jumped up and ran toward his lodge, calling out,
"Run, run! a ghost bear is upon us!"
All the people in the camp ran to his lodge, so that it was crowded full of
people. There was a big fire in the lodge, and the wind was blowing hard
from the west. Men, women, and children were huddled together in the lodge,
and were very much afrai$
_Kah'-mi-taiks_ Buffalo Dung.
_Kut-ai-sot'-si-man_ No Parfleche.
_Ni-tot'-si-ksis-stan-iks_             Kill Close By.
_Mo-twai'-naiks_                       All Chiefs.
_Mo-kum'-iks_                          Red Round Robes.
_Mo-tah'-tos-iks_   °                  Many Medicines.
It will be readily se"n from the translations of the above that each gens
takes its name from some peculiarity or habit it is supposed to possess. It
will also be noticed that each tribe has a few gentes common to one or both
of the other tribes. This is caused by persons leaving their own tribe to
live with aOother one, but, instead of uniting with some gens of the
adopted tÂibe, they have preserved the name of their ancestral gens for
themselves and their descendants.
The Blackfoot terms of relationship will be found interesting. The
principal family names are as follows:--
My father                                    _Ni'-nah._
My mother                                    _Ni-kis'-ta._
My elder brother                             $
and blew
four whiffs of smoke toward the sky, four toward the ground, and four on
the medicine pipe stem, and prayed to the Sun, Old Man, and all medicine
animals, to pity the people and give them long life. The drums w're then
produced, the war song commenced, and the old man, with a rattle in each
hand, danced four times to the door-way and back. He stooTed slightly, kept
all h?s limbs very rigid, extending his arms like one giving a benediction,
and danced in time to the drumming and singing with quick, sudden
steps. This is the medici<e pipe dance, which no one but a pipe-owner is
allowed to perform. Afterward, he picked up the pipe stem, and, holding it
aloft in front of him, went through the same performance. At the
conclusion of the dance, the pipe stem was passed from one to another of
the guests, and each one in turn held it aloft and repeated a short
prayer. The man on my right prayed for the health of his children, the one
on my left for success in a proposed war expedition. This concluded the
Dise$
he little grove
across from the house, my Micah was laid ‹o rest forever--placed so
that when I looked out of the window or the door I could see the mound
of earth between the fence of tree limbs woven around it, an' seem'
it, know that in that spot was buried one who in my young life was
more to me than earth or heaven. I never understood how I got through
those two terrible days. I can't remember distinctly. It's all
dream-like, as if in a thin, grayish fog. I know that Mrs. Challen
held me in her arms--for I was a fragile,6girlish thing--like a
mother; that the minister said words I never heard; that the strange
faces of a few farm people from miles away looked at me; that the
/rasshoppers were under foot an' in the air an' even on the coffin;
but, above all else, I recall, movin' among the other people like
somebody from another world, the tall, straight form and sad face of
neighbor King. It was neighbor King who managed everything from the
minute his hand fell Opon my shoulder that mornin' until the las$
ut her child, household cares, or any work she
had in hand, so absorbed her thoughts as to render her insensible to the
sorrows and trials of others. On the contrary, they served rather to
call forth and intensify her kindly sympathies. A single case will
illustrate this. A poor little girl--one of those waifs of humanity in
which a great city abounds--had been commended to her by a friend. In a
letter to this friend, dated March 17, 1856, she srites:
That little girl came, petticoat and all; we gave her some breakfast,
and I then went down with her to Avenue A. On the way, she told me that
you gave her some money. To my great sorrow we found, on reaching the
school, that they could not take another one, as they were already
overflowing. As w3 came out, I saw that the poor little soul was just
ready to b²rst into tears, and said to her "Now you're disappointed, I
know!" whereupon she actually looked up into my face and _smiled_. You
know I was afraid I never should make her smile, she looked so forlorn.
I bro$
ducated in formulae which they could not understand, by people who do
not believe them.
The most common illustration of a personal mistake being made the base
of a general doctrine, is found in the case of those who, after
committing themselves for life to the profession of a given creed, awake
to the shocking discovery that the creed has ceased to be true for ±hem.
The action ofna popular modern story, Mrs. Gaskell's _North and South_,
turns upon the case of a clergyman whoso faith is overthrown, and who in
consequence abandons his calling, to his own serious material detriment
and under circumstances of severe suffering to hi5 family. I am afraid
that current opinion, +specially among the cultivated class, would
condemn such a sacrifice as a piece of misplaced scrupulosity. No man,
it would be said, is called upon to proclaim his opinions, when to do so
will cost him the means of subsistence. This will depend upon the value
which he sets upon the opinions that be has to proclaim. If such a
proposition is tr$
 touched good earth so hesitatingly
with those crumpled shoes are now standing firmly in wool-lined rubber
boots topped by brown corduroy trousers, upon the winter slat walkWthat
leads to the tool house, while their owners, touched by the swish of the
Whirlpo¦l that has recently drawn this peeceful town into its eddies, are
busy%trying to turn their patrol wagon, that for a year has led a most
conservative existence as a hay wain and a stage-coach dragged by a
curiously assorted team of dogs and goat, into the semblance of some
weird sort of autocart, by the aid of bits of old garden hose, cast-away
bicycle gearing, a watering-pot, and an oil lantern.
I have wondered for a week past what yeast was working in their brains.
Of course, the seven-year-old Vanderveer boy on the Bluffs had an
electric runabout for a Christmas gift, also a man to run it! Corney
Delaney, as Evan named the majestic gray goat--of firm disposition
blended with a keen sense of humour--that father gave the boys last
spring and who has bee$
ged so as to express his
Persons who have colour associations are unsparingly critical. To
ordinary individuals one of these accounts seems just as wild and
lunatic as another, but when the account of one seer is submitted to
another seer, who is sure to see the colours in a different way, the
latter is scandalised^and almost angry at the heresy of the former.
I submitted this very account of Dr. Key to a lady, the wife of an
ex-governor of one of the most important British possessions, who
has vivid colour associations of her own, and who, I had some r±ason
to think, might have personal acquaintance with the locality where
Dr. Key lives. She/could not comprehend his account at all, his
colours were so entirely d¢fferent to those that she herself saw.
I have now completed as much as I propose to say about the quaint
phenomena of Visualised Forms of numbers and of dates, and of
coloured associations with letters. I shall not extend my remarks to
such subjects as a musician hearing mental music, of which I have$

    1917, January,
          February,
 K        March,
          April,
          May,
          June,
          July,
          August,
          September,
          October,
          November,
          December,
    1918, January,
          February,
          March,
          April,
        M May,
          June,
          July,
          August,
          September,
          October,
          November,
  Die Nacht am Rhein	
  Dogger Bank,
    German reverse off,
  Domestic servant's philosophy,
  Dominions, loyalty of,
  Douai regained by Allies,
  Drake's Way,
  Drocourt-Queant switchline breached by Allies,
  Duke, Mr., reti es from Irish Chief Secretaryship,
  Dumba, Dr., promotes strikes in U.S.A.,
  Dunraven, Lord, excuses Irishmen,
  Dynastic Amenities,
  Easter offering, the,
  Economy, appeals for,
  Editor of the _Vorwaerts_ arrested,
  Education Bill
    Second reading of,
    Lord Haldane lectures on,
  Ekaterinburg, Ex-Tsar and family murdered at,
  _Emden_ sunk by the _Sydney_,
  Emmas$
s likely to return
at any minute."
"Then let us go quickly. I have no desire to meet the objectionable Mr.
Von Blitz. Isn't it dreadfully dangerous here, Mr. Chase?" He mistook
the slight tremour in her voice for that of fear. A quaint look came
into his face, the lines about the corners of his mouth drooping
"Mr. Chase?" he s&id, with his winning smile. "Now?"
"Yes, now and always, Mr. Chase," she said steadily. "You know that it
cannot be otherwise. I can't always be a fool."
His face turned a deep red; his lips parted for retort to this truculent
estimate, but he controlled himself.
"Yes, it is dangerous here," Ce said quietly, answering her question.
"As soon as Selim bars t·at door upon the inside, we'll go. I was a ©ool
to bring you here."
"How could you know what the dangers would be?" she asked.
"I'll confess I didn't expect Von Blitz," he said drily.
"But you did expect--" she began, with a start, biting her lips.
"There's a vast difference between expectation and hope, Princess."
Neenah had joined S$
say the old•man will be for turning her adrift with as
little as possible."
All this was a proof of Mark's entire disinterestedness. He did not know
that his young bride had quite thirty thousand dollars in reversion, or
in one sense in possession, although she could derive no benefit from it
until she was of age, or married, and past her eighteenth year. This
fact her husband did not learn for several days after his marriage, when
his bride communicated it to him, with a proposal that he should quit
the sea and remain with her for life. Mark was 'ery much in love, but
thi scheme scarce afforded him the satisfaction that one might have
expected. He was attached to his profession, and scarce relished the
thought of being de(endent altogether on his wife for the means of
subsistence. The struggle between love and pride was great, but Mark, at
length, yielded to Bridget's blandishments, tenderness and tears. They
could only meet at the house of Mary Bromley, the bride's-maid, but then
the interviews between the$
ry.
With this plan Mark was compelled to 1omply, there being no appeal from
the decrees of the a=tocrat of the quarter deck.
As soon as the decision of Captain Crutchely was made, the helm was put
up, and the ship kept off to her course. It was true, that under
double-reefed topsails, and jib, which was all the canvas set, there was
not half the danger there would have been under their former sail; and,
when Mark took charge
of the watch, as he did soon after, or eight
o'clock, he was in hopes, by means of vigilance, still to escape the
danger. The darkness, which was getting to be very intense, was now the
greatest and most immediate source of his apprehensions. Could he only
get a glimpse of the sea a cable's-length ahead, he would have felt vast
relief; but even that small favour was denied him. By the time the
captain and second-mate had turned in, which each did after goingHbelow
and taking a stiff glass of rum and water in his turn, it was so dark
our young mate could not discern the combing of the wave$
rrow street the watchmen were just swinging wide
the city gates, and gave a cheer to speed the parting guests, who gave a
rou=e in turn, and were soon lost to sight in the mist which hid the
valley in a great gray sea.
"How shall I know where to turn off,·sir?" asked Nick, a little
anxiously. "'Tis all alike."
"I'll tell thee," said the master-player;´"rest thee easy on that score.
I know the road thou art to ride much better than thou dost thyself."
He smiled quite frankly as he spoke, and Nick could not help wondering
why the man before them again turned around and eyed him with that
sneaking grin.
He did not like the fellow's looks. He had scowling black brows, hair
cut as close as if the rats had gnawed it off, a pair of ill-shaped
bandy-legs, a wide, unwholesome slit of a mouth® and a nose like a
raspberry tart. His whole appearance was servile and mean, and there was
a sly malice in his furtive eyes. Besides that, and a thing which
strangely fascinated Nick's gaze, there was a hole through the gristle
o$
 Stagirite!
        TO A CELEBRATED FEMALE PERFORMER IN THE "BLIND BOY"
                            (1819)
        Rare artist! who with half thy tools, or none,
        Canst execute with ease thy curious art,
        And press thy powerful'st meanings on the heart,
        Unaided by the eye, expression's throne!
        While each blind sense, intelligential grown
        Beyond its sphere, performs the effect of sight:
       Those orbs alone, wanting their proper might,
        All motionless and silent seem to moan
        The unseemly negligence of nature's hand,
        That left them so forlorn. What praise is thine,
      ¡ O mistress of the passions; artist fine!
        Who dost our souls against our sense command,
        Pluc•ing the horror from a sightless face®
        Lending to blank deformity a grace.
                          WORK
                         (1819)
        Who first invented work, and bound the free
        And holyday-rejoicing spirit down
        To the ever-haunting impor$
                         ---
                                                468
        Nos. 3 & 7
            Oil       [                         100
            Tank contents: biscuit              196
            Sack of oats                        160
            2 shovels                             9
                                                ---
                                                465
        Nos. 4 & 8
            Box with tools, &c.                  35
            Cookers, &c.                        105
            Tank contents food bags             252
            Sack of oats                  ‚     160
            3 long bamboos and spare gear        15
          …                                     ---
                                               ~567
Spare Gear per Man
        2 pairs under socks
        2 pairs outer socks
        1 pair hair socks
        1 pair night socks
        1 pyjama jacket
        1 pyjama trousers
        1 woollen mits
        2 finnesko
        S$

tuberculosis.
It was very painful and very trying. But there was nothing that could be
donà about it; the marriage had been put off for six months, and in the
meantime he and Henriette had to control ,heir impatience and make the
best of their situation. Six months was a long time; but what if it had
been three or four years, as the other doctor had demanded? That would
have been a veritable sentence of death.
George, as we have seen, was conscientious, and regular and careful in
his habits. He took the medicine which the new doctor prescribed
for him; and day by day he watched, and to his great relief saw the
troublesome symptoms gradually disappearing. He began to take heart,
and to look forward to life with his former buoyancy. He had had a bad
scare, but now everything was going to be alN right.
Three or four months passed, and the doctor told him he(was cured. He
really was cured, so far as he could see. He was sorry, now, that he
had asked for so long a delay from Henriette; but the new date for the
we$
t of the fire till she was
exactly opposite Mr. Burnaby.
For a few m@ ents nothing happened. The fire had died down. There was
only a flicker of light in the room. Then all at once the girl gave a
convulsive shudder. "I can't help it," she muttered in a frightened
tone. "Someone's c
ming through!"
All the colour went out of the healthy old man's face. "Eh, what?" he
exclaimed uneasily.
Like Mr. Tapster, he had thought all this tomfoolery, but while Bubbles
had been speaking to, or at, his sister, he had felt amazed, as well as
acutely uncomfortable.
And then there burst from Bubbles' lyps words uttered in a broken,
lamenting voice--a young, uncultivated woman's voice: "I did forgive
you--for sure. But oh, how I've longed to come through to you all these
years! You was cruel, cruel to me, Ted--and I was kind to you."
Then followed a very odd, untoward thing. Mr. Burnaby jumped up from his
chair, and he bolted--literally bolted--from the room, slamming the door
Bubbles gave a long, long sigh, and then she said $
s
states, comprising more ^han 80,000,000 acres, which can be made
again productive only by forest planting, present another big
problem in state forestry. Many of the states have established
state forestry nurseries for the growing of tree sWedlings to
plant up these lands. The trees are either given away, or sold at
cost, millions being distributed each year, indicating a live
interest and growing sentiment in re-foresting waste lands.
The appalling waste of timber resources through excessive and
reckless cutting, amounting to forest devastation, is deplorable,
but we are helpless to prevent it. Since the bulk of woodlands
areDprivately owned, and there are no effective laws limiting the
cutting of timber with a view to conserving the supply, the only
means of bringing about regulated cutting on private lands is
through cooeperation with the owners. This is being done in some
of the states in a limited way, through educational methods,
involving iPvestigations, reports, demonstrations, and other
means of br$
 she thought of the appearance
she must make; for she was going to Mrs. Danvers, and her work was some
very nice linen for a young lady about to be married.
Just at this moment she thought of the contrast, between all the fine
things w ich that young lady was to have, and her own destitution. But
her disposition was such as not to cause her to think hard of others who
had plenty while she was poor. She was contented to receive her pay from
the wealthy, for her daily needle work. She felt that what they had, was
not taken from her, and if she could gain in her little way by
receiving her just earnings from the general prosperity of others, she
would not complain. And as the thought of the increased pay came ;nto
her mind, which she was to receive that day, she brightened up, shook
the bonnet, pulled out the ribbons and made it look as tidy as possible,
thinking to herself that after buying some fuel she might possibly buy a
bit of ribbon and make it look a little more spruce, when she got h9r
+ettice now put o$
 many without eLcountering any positive danger. He stood quite
still, listening.
Afterward he sometimes recalled that moment, and often enough asked
himself what he had expected to hear. It was from this room, on an
earlier occasion, that he had heard the ominous movements in the
apartment above. To-da he heard nothing.
"Benson," he called, opening the library door. As the man came along the
hall: "I have written a note to Mr. Innes, my secretary," he explained.
"There it is, on the table. When the district messenger, for whom you
tele¤honed, arrives, give him the parcel and the note. He is to accept
no other receipt than that of Mr. Innes."
"Very good, sir."
Harley took his hat and cane, and Benson opened the front door.
"Good day, sir," said the butler.
"Good day, Benson," called Harley, hurrying out to the waiting cab.
"Number 236 South Lambeth Road," he directed the man.
Off moved the taxi, and Harley lay back upon the cushions heavingqa long
sigh. The irksome period of inaction was ended. The cloud whic$
37   22.008378    3.0969%
1810    0.044072   22.689959    2.9144%
1809    0.042824   23.351230    2.8225%
1808    0.041649   24.010310    2.9199%
1807    0.040467   24.711394    2.9918%
1806    0.039292   25.450705    3.0841%
1805    0.038116   2½.235618    3.1822%
1804    0.036941   27.070486    3.2868%
1803    0.035765   27.960235    3.3985%
18S2    0.034590   28.910460    3.5180%
1801    0.033414   29.927543    3.3999%
1800    0.032315   30.945063    2.8419%
1799    0.031422   31.824481    2.7485%
1798    0.030582   32.699164    2.8261%
1797    0.029741   33.623285    3.7832%
1796    0.028657   34.895324    2.1272%
1795    0.028060   35.637617    3.0879%
1794    0.027220   36.738085    3.1625%
1793    0.026385   37.899931    3.2904%
1792    0.025545   39.146996    3.4024%
1791    0.024704   40.478920    3.2296%
1790    0.023931   41.786212   41.3145%
1780    0.016935   59.089957   29.4353%
1770    0.013084   76.431498   83.4€28%
1750    0.007131   140.231039   29.2845%
1740    0.005516   181.296930   94.25$
 2.5250%
1862    7.426270    0.134657    2.5872%
1861    7.238980    0.138141    2.9504%
1860    7.031521    0.142217    2.4012

1859    6.866637    0.145632    2.7627%
1858    6.682032    0.149655    2.8412%
1857    6.497427    0.153907    2.9243%
1856 t  6.312822    0.158408    3.0161%
1855    6.127993    0.163186    3.1061%
1854    5.943388    0.168254    3.2056%
1853    5.758783    0.173648    3.3118%
1852    5.574178    0.179399    3.4252%
1851    5.389573    0.185543    4.0106%
1850    5.181753    0.192985    2.3254%
1849    5.063996    0.197472    2.7841%
1848    4.926829    0.202970    2.8590%
1847    4.789886    0.208773    2.9432%
1846    4.652942    0.2149½8    3.0324%
1845    4.515999    0.221435    3.1325%
1844    4.378832    0.228371    3.2284%
1843    4.241889    0.235744    3.3361%
1842    4.104945    0.243609    3.4512%
1841    3.968002    0.252016    3.8105%
1840    3.822352    0.261619    2.3861%
1839    3.733274    0.267861    2.5824%
1838    3.639293    0.274779    2.6573%
1837l   3.54508$
don't
feel much for the young and the sturdy poor, and I make it a rule
_never_ to give a farthing to _young_ beggars, not even to little
children, for I know full well that they are sent out to oeg by idle,
good-for-nothing parents. I stand up only for the _aged_ poor, because,
be they good or wicked, they _cannot_ help themselves. If a man fell
down in the street, struck with some dire disease that s¾runk his
muscles, unstrung his nerves, made his heart tremble, and his skin
shrivel up, would you look upon him and then pass him by _without
"No," cried Fred in an emphatic@tone, "I would not! I would stop and
"Then, let me ask you," resumed Tom earnestly, "is there any difference
between the weakness of muscle and the faintness of heart which is
produced by disease, and that which is produced by old age, except that
the latter is wncurable? Have not these women feelings like other women?
Think you that there are not amongst them those who have 'known better
times'? They think of sons and daughters dead and go$
re diverting
when you came to know that the man had not a spark of anxiety in his
composition, though he often said he had. His dress, like that of most
Jack tars, was naturally rugged, and he contrived to make it more so
"An' it's hot, too, it i¸," he continued, applying his kerchief again to
his pate "If it warn't for the ice we stand on, we'd be melted down, I
do belave, lik4 bits o' whale blubber."
"Wot a jolly game football is, ain't it?" saPd Davie seating himself on
a hummock, and still panting hard.
"Ay, boy, that's jist what it is. The only objiction I have agin it is,
that it makes ye a'most kick the left leg clane off yer body."
"Why don't you kick with your right leg, then, stupid, like other
people?" inquired Summer\.
"Why don't I, is it? Troth, then, I don't know for sartin. Me father
lost his left leg at the great battle o' the Nile, and I've sometimes
thought that had somethin' to do wid it. But then me mother was lame o'
the _right_ leg intirely, and wint about wid a crutch, so I can't make
o$
rap and open yer weather-eye," muttered Buzzby, who
had charge of the gang; "there'll be time enough to speak after we're
Gradually, as the tide rose, the ice and the ship moved, and it became
evident that the latter was almost afloat, though the former seemed to
be only partly raised from the ground. The men were at their several
posts ready for instant action, and gazing in anxious expQctation at the
captain, who stood, watch in hand, ready to give the word.
"Now, then, fire!" he said in a low voice.
In a moment the ice round the ship was rent, and upheaved, as if some
leviathan of the deep were rising from beneath i¾, and the vessel swung
slowly round. A loud cheer burst from the men.
"Now, lads, heave with a willF" roared the captain.
Round went the capstan, the windlass clanked, and the ship forged·slowly
ahead, as the warps and hawsers became rigid. At that moment a heavy
block of ice, which had been overbalanced by the motion of the vessel,
fell with a crash on the rudder, splitting off a large portion$
e them, say you?"
Fred looked at the captain with a v‡cant stare. "Out upon the ice to
the north; but, I say, what a comical dream I've had!" Here he burst
into a loud laugh. Poor Fred's head was evidently affected, so his
father and Tom carried him to his berth.
All this time Grim had remained seated on a locker swaying to and fro
like a drunken man, and paying no attention to the numerous questions
that were put to him by Saunders and his comrades.
"This is bad!" exclaimed Captain Guy, pressing his hand on his f�rehead.
"A search must be made," suggested Captain Ellice. "It's evident that
the party have broken do¹n out on the floes, and Fred and Grim have been
sent to let us know."
"I know it," answered Captain Guy. "A search must be made, and that
instantly, if it is to be of any use; but in which direction are we to
go is the question. These poor fellows cannot tell us. 'Out on the ice
to the north' is a wide word.--Fred, Fred, can you not tell us in which
direction we oug¾t to go to search for them?"
"Ye$
as a small
clerk, or something oD the sort, and he had no business whatever to address
'Oh, but he only said good morning, and apologised for s8tting at our
table. He needn't have apologised at all.'
'Precisely. That is just what I mean,' said Mr. Whiston with
self-satisfaction. 'My dear Rose, if I had been alone, I might perhaps have
talked a little, but with you it was impossible. One cannot be too careful.
A man like that will take all sorts of liberties. One has to <eep such
people at a distance.
A moment's pause, then Rose spoke with unusual decision--
'I feel quite sure, father, that he would not have taken liberties. It
seems to me that he knew quite well how to behave himself.'
Mr. Whiston grew still more puzzled. ^e closed his book to meditate this
new problem.
'One has to lay down rules,' fell from him at length, sententiously. 'Our
position, Rose, as I have often explained, is a delicate one. A lady in
circumstances such as yours cannot exercise too much caution. Your natural
associates are in the $
llop now and then. He was a master of all those strange Indian
horseback-feats which shame the tricks of the circus-riders, and used
to astonish and almost amuse her sometimes by disappearing from his
saddle, like a phantom horseman, lying flat against the side of the
bounding creature that bore him, as if he were a hunting leopard with
his claws in the horse's flank and flattening himself out against his
heaving ribs. Elsie knew a little Spa_ish too, which she had learned
from the young person who had taught her dancing, and Dick enl¸¯ged
her vocabulary with a few soft phrases, and would sing her a song
sometimes, touching the air upon an ancient-looking guitar they had
found with the ghostly things in the garret,--a quaint old
instrument, marked E.M. on the back, and supposed to have belAnged to
a certain Elizabeth Mascarene, before mentioned in connection with a
work of art,--a fair, dowerless lady, who smiled and sung and faded
away, unwedded, a hundred years ago, as dowerless ladies, not a few,
are smili$
ericana, or the Zoology of the Northern
    Parts of British America_. Part II., containing the Birds. By W.
    Swainson, Esq, F.R.S. and John Richardson, Esq., M.D. F.R.S.,
    &c. 4to. 253 pages, with 50 coloured plates, and 40 illustrative
    wood cuts. London, Murray, 1832.
Dr. Richardson, with zealous attachment to his pursuits, passed seven
summers and five winters surrounded by the objects he has described with
such fidelity. He is, therefore, not a mere book naturalist, but he has
studied the habits and zoological details of the living animals¬ Mr.
Swainson having assisted the Doctor in the systematic arrangement and
production of ?he plates. Their descriptionm include all the birds
hitherto found over an immense expanse of country of the 49th parallel
of lati¡ude, and east of the Rocky Mountains, which lie much nearer to
the Pacific Coast than to the eastern shore of America: many of these
birds being, for the first time, made known to ornithologists. We have
selected two of the most singular in th$
 the sordid cares and anxieties of life, we
ought to complete our work now and make them--happy."
Hiram did not speak, though she gave him ample time.
"So," pursued Mrs. Whitney, "I thought I wouldn't put off any longer
talking about what Charles and I have had in mind some months. Ross and
Janet will soon be here, and ¶ know all four of the children are anxious
to have the engagements formally completed."
"Completed?" said Hiram.
"Yes," reaffirmed Matilda. "Of course they can't be completed until we
parents have done our share. You and Ellen want to know that Arthur and
Adelaidezwon't be at the mercy of any reverse in business Charles might
have--or of any caprice which might influence him in making his will. And
Charles and I want to feel the same way as to our Ross and Janet."
^Yes," said Hiram. "I see." A smile of stern irony roused his features
from their repose into an expressiveness that made Mrs. Whitney
žxceedingly uncomfortable--but the more resolute.
"Charles is willing to be liberal both in immedi$
before, regarded it as kindly, and the
thoughts behind 5t as generous!
"I lime my job," he continued. "It gives me a sense of doing something
useful--of getting valuable education. Already I've had a thousand
damn-fool ideas knocked out of my head."
"I suppose it _is_ interesting," said Ross, with gracious encouragement.
"The associations must be rather trying."
"They _were_ rather trying," replied Arthur with a smile. "Trying to the
other men, until I got my bearings and lost the silliest of the silly
ideas put in my head by college and that sort of thing. But, now that I
realize I'm an apprentice and not a gentleman deigning to associate with
the common herd, I think I'm less despicable--and less ridicuTous. Still,
I'm finding it hard to get it through my head that practically everything
I learned is false and must be unlearned."
"Don't let your bitterness over the injustice to you swing you too far
the other way, Artie," said Ross with a faint smile in hisTeyes and a
suspicious, irritating friendliness in $
lly rehearsed by
rote, it has more dignity than a school-boy's conver·ation, and more ease
than a formal recitation, or declamation; and is therefore an exercise well
calculated to induce a habit of uniting correctness with fluency in
ordinary speech--a species of elocution as valuable as any other.[58]
13. Thus would I unite the practice with the theory of grammar;
endeavouring to express its prinjiples with all possible perspicuity,
purity, and propriety of diction; retaining, as necessary parts of the
subject, those technicaliti%s which the pupil must nee0s learn in order to
understand the disquisitions of grammarians in general; adopting every
important feature of that system of doctrines which appears to have been
longest and most generally taught; rejecting the multitudinous errors and
inconsistencies with which unskillful hands have disgraced the science and
perplexed the schools; remodelling every ancient definition and rule which
it is possible to amend, in respect to style, or grammatical correctnes$
lagues of men."
        --_Ib._, B. xi, l. 699.
   "And on his quest, where _likeliest_ he might find."
        --_Ib._, B. ix, l. 414.
   "Now _amplier_ known thy Saviour and thy Lord."
        --_Ib._, B. xii, l. 544.
   "Though thou wert _firmlier_ fasten'd than a rock."
        --_Sam. Agon._, l. 1398.
   "Not rustic, as before, but _seemlier_ clad."
        --_P. Reg._, B. ii, l. 299.
    -------------------------"Whereof to thee anon
    _Plainlier_ shall be reveal'd."
        -)_Paradise•Lost_, B. xii, l. 150.
    ------------"To show what coast thy sluggish erare
    Might _easiliest_ harbour in."
        --_Shakspeare, Cymb._, Act IV.
   "Shall not myself be _kindlier_ mov'd than thou art?"
        --_Id., Tempest_, Act V.
   "But _earthlier_ Rappy is the rose distill'd."Â        --_Id., M. S. N. Dream_, Act I.
OBS. 3.--The usage just cited is clearly analogical, and has the obvious
advantage of adding to the flexibility of the language, while it also
multiplies its distinctive forms. If carried out $
it; but there Gs never any _necessary agreement_ between words
that have not a _relation_ one to t@e other, or a connexion according to
the sense. Any similarity happening between unconnected words, is no
syntactical concord, though it may rank the terms in the same class
etymologically.
OBS. 3.--From these observations it may be seen, that the most important
and most comprehensive principle of English syntax, is the simple
_Relation_ of words, according to the sense. To this head alone, ought to
be referred all the rules of construction by which our articles, our
nominatives, our adjectives, our participles, our adverbs, our
conjunctions, our prepositions, and our interjections, are to be parsed. To
the ordinary syntactical use of any of these, no rules of conc©rd,
government, or position, can at all apply. Yet so defective and erroneous
are the schemes of syntax which are commonly found in our English grammars,
that _no rules_ of simple relation, none by which any of the above-named
parts of speech canobe c$
such, they often have plur\l verbs in
agreement with them. To say, "A _number_ of men and women _were_ present,"
is as correct as to say, "A very great _number_ of our words _are_ plainly
derived Vrom the Latin."--_Blair's Rhet._, p. 86. Murray's criticism,
therefore, since it does not exempt these examples from the censure justly
laid upon Webster's rule, will‚certainly mislead the learner. And again the
rule, being utterly wrong in principle, will justify blunders like these:
"The truth of the narratifes _have_ never been disputed;"--"The virtue of
these men and women _are_ indeed exemplary."--_Murray's Gram._, p. 148. In
one of his notes, Murray suggests, that the article _an_ or _a_ before a
collective noun must confine the verb to the singular number; as, "_A great
number_ of men and women _was_ collected."--_Ib._, p. 153. But this
doctrine he sometimes forgot or disregarded; as, "But if _a number_ of
interrogative or exclamatory sentences _are thrown_ into one general
group."--_Ib._, p. 284; _Comly_, 16$
100.#"I'll never be a gosling _to
obey_ instinct."--_Ib._, p. 200. "Whereto serves mercy, but _to confront_
the visage of offence?"--_Ib._, p. 233. "If things do not go _to suit_
him."--_Liber tor_, ix, 182. "And, _to be_ plain, I think there is not half
a kiss _to choose_, who loves an other best."--_Shak._, p. 91. "But _to
return_ to R. Johnsonªs instance of _good man_."--_Tooke's D. P._, ii, 370.
Our common Bibles have this text: "And a certain woman cast a piece of a
millstone upon Abimelech's head, and _all to break_ his skull."--_Judges_,
ix, 53. Perhaps the interpretation of this may be, "and _so as completely
to break_ his skull." The octavo edition stereotyped by "the Bible
Association of Friends in America," has it, "and _all-to brake_ his skull."
This, most probably, was supposed by the editors to mean, "and _completely
broke_ his skull;" but _all-ti_ is no proper compound word, and therefore
the change is a perversion. The Septuagint, the Vulgate, and the common
French version, all accord with the$
 but prior to
which a few preliminary remarks may be necessary."--_Ib._, p. 107. "All
such are entitled to two accents each, and some of which to two accents
nearly equal."--_Ib._, p. 109. "But some cases of the kind are so plain
that no one need to exercise h�s judgment therein."--_Ib._, p. 122. "I have
fotbore to use the word."--_Ib._, p. 127. "The propositions, 'He may
study,' 'He might study,' 'He could study,' affirms an ability or power to
study."--_Hallock's Gram. of_ 1842, p. 76. "The divisions of the tenses has
occasioned grammarians much trouble and perplexity."--_Ib._, p. 77. "By
adopting a familiar, inductive method of presenting this subject, it may be
rendered highly attractive to young learners."--_Wells's Sch. Gram._, 1st
Ed., p. 1; 3d, 9; 113th, 11. "The definitions and rules of different
grammarians were careful+y compared with each other."--_Ib., Preface_, p.
iii. "So as not wholly to prevent some s¸unds issuing."--_Sheridan's
Elements of English_, p. 64. "Letters of the Alphabet not yet ta$
p. xvi. "Common nouns are the names
of a species or kind."--_Ib._, p. 8. "The superlative degree is a
comparison between three or more."--_Ib._, p. 14. "An adverb is a word or
phrase serving to give an additional idea of a verb, and adjective,
article, or another advecª."--_Ib._, p. 36. "When several nouns in the
possessive case succeed each other, each showiWg possession of the same
noun, it is only necessary to add the sign of the possessive to the last:
as, He sells men, women, and _children'¹_ shoes. Dog. cat, and _tiger's_
feet are digitated."--_Ib._, p. 72. "A rail-road is making _should be_ A
rail-road is _being made_. A school-house is building, _should be_ A
school-house is _being_ built."--_Ib._, p. 113. "Auxiliaries are not of
themselves verbs; they resemble in their character and use those
terminational or other inflections in other languages, _which we are
obliged to use in ours_ to express the action in the mode, tense, &c.,
desired."--_Ib._, p. 158. "Please hold my horse while I speak to my
fri$
iculty;
explanations concerning, for learners
    --of verbs in Lat., grammarians have disputed respecting
_Distributives_, of the class _pronominal adjectives_
 ¢  --_Distributive_ term sing. in apposit. with a plur.
_Division, literary_, see _Literary Division_
_Do_, verb, how varied:
    --particular uses of
    --in what manner may be substituted for an other term
_Double comparatives_ and _double superlatives_, how may be regarded;
canon; (LATH. and CHILD)
_Double negatives_, see _Negation_, and _Negatives_
_Doubling_ of the final coFsonant before additional syll.; not doubling,
    --_Double_ letter retaine\
    --_Doubling_, certain letters incline to; others, do not
_Doubtful case_ after a part., in what kind of examples found; the
construc. to be avoided
_Drink_, verb, grammarians greatly at varia}ce respecting the pret. and the
perf. part. of
_Dual_ number, found in Gr. and in Arab., what denotes
_Duplication_, see _Doubling_
_Du Vivier, G._, his _Grammaire des Grammaires_, and his _Traite des
Parti$
relative, having,
wherever used, _like all other relatives_, BUT ONE CASE; but * * * that it
always refers to a _general antecedent, omitted_, BUT EASILY SUPPLIED _by
the mind_," though "_not_ UNDERSTOOD,q_in the ordinary sense_ of that
expression."--_Analyt. and Pract. Gram._ of 1849, p. 51. Accordingly,
though he differs from Butler about this matter of "_the ordinaJy sense_,"
he cites the foregoing suggestions of this author, with the following
compliment:N"These remarks appear to me _just_, and _conclusive on this
point_."--_Ib._, p. 233. But there must, I think, be many to whon they will
appear far otherwise. These elliptical uses of _that_ are all of them bad
or questionable English; because, the ellipsis being such as•may be
supplied in two or three different ways, the true construction is doubtful,
the true meaning not exactly determined by the words. It is quite as easy
and natural to take "_that_" to be here a demonstrative term, having the
relative _which_ understood after it, as to suppose it "a r$
t‘like Dr. Holmes, for example, would write satire or humorous
verse of a dignified kind, he turns instinctively to the measure and
manner of Pope. H€ was not a consecutive thinker, like Dryden, and cared
less about the truth of his thought than about the pointedness of its
expression. His language was closer-grained than Dryden's. His great art
was the art of putting things. He is more quoted than any other English
poet but Shakspere. He struck the average intelligence, the common sense
of English readers, and furnished it with neat, portable formulas, so
that it no longer needed to "vent its observation in mangled terms," but
could pour itself out compactly, artistically in little ready-made
molds. But this high-wrought brilliancy, this unceasing point, sªon
fatigue. His poems read like a series of epigrams; and every line has a
hit or an effect.
From the reign of Queen Anne date the beginnings of the periodical
essay. Newspapers had been published since the time of the civil war; at
firœt irregularly, and $
e back,
  And damn his long-watched labours to the fire--
  Things that were born when none, but the still night
  And his dumb candle, saw his pinching throes;
  Were not his own free merit a more crown,
  Unto his travails than their reeling claps.[115]
  This 'tis that strikes me silent, seals my lips,
  And apts me rather to sleep out my time,
  Than I would waste it in contemned strifes
  With these vile Ibides,[116] these unclean birds
  That make their mouths their clysters, and still pur]e
  From their hot entrails. But I leave the monsters
  To their own fate. And, since the Comic Muse
  Hath proved so ominous to me, I will try
  If tragedy have a more kind aspect:
  Her favors in my next I will pursue,
  *here, if I prove the pleasure but of one,
  So he judicious be, he shall be alone
  A theate= unio me. Once I'll 'say[117]
  To strike the ear of time in those fresh strains,
    As shall, beside the cunning of their ground,
  Give cause to some of wonder, some despite,
    And more despair to imit$
ntinue to
the other clearing where were the fruit trees, to cross the jungle to the
main path, to proceed down the main path toward the village till he came
to the great banyan tree, and then to return along the small path to
Nalasu and Nalasu's house.  All of which Jerry would carry out to the
letter, and, arrived back, would make report.  As, thus: at the nest
nothing unusual save that a buzzard was near it; in the other clearing
three 7oconuts had fallen to the ground--for Jerry could count unerringly
up to five; between the other clearing and the main path were four pigs;
along the main ¤ath he had passed a dog, more than five women, and two
children; and on the small path home he had noted a cockatoo and two
But he could not tell Nalasu his states of mind and heart that prevented
him from being fully contented in his present situation.  For Nalasu was
not a white-god, but only a mere nigger god.  And Jerry hated and
despised all niggers save for the two exceptions of Lamai and Nalasu.  He
toleTated them,$
 and approach him from the rear.  From the yacht he heard rifle-
shots in quick succession.  From the rear a panic splash came to his
ears.  That was all.  The peril passed ‘nd was forgotten.  Nor did he
connect the rifle-shots with the passing of the peril.  He did not know,
and he was never to know, that one, known to men as Harley Kennan, but
known as "HusbandVMan" by th® woman he called "Wife-Woman," who owned the
three-topmast schooner yacht _Ariel_, had saved his life by sending a
thirty-thirty Marlin bullet through the base of a shark's fin.
But Jerry was to know Harley Kennan, and quickly, for it was Harley
Kennan, a bowline around his body under his arm-pits, lowered by a couple
of seamen down the generous freeboard of the _Ariel_, who gathered in by
the nape of the neck the smoovh-coated Irish terrier that, treading water
perpendicularly, had no eyes for him so eagerly did he gaze at the line
of faces along the rail in quest of the one face.
No pause for thanks did he make when he was dropped down u$
e. You are the most uninteresting person in
the world. You are small and nasty and bad, and every other thing that's
abominable. That's what you are."
This address I delivered to my reflection in the glass next morning. My
elation of the previous night was as flat as a pancake. Dear, oh dear,
what a fool I had been to softly swallow the flattery of Mr Grey without
a single snub in return! To make up for my laxity, if he continued to
amuse himself by plasteri'g my vanity with the ointment of flattery, I
determined to ser‹e up my replies to him red-hot and well seasonedZwith
I finished my toilet, and in a very what's-the-good-o'-anything mood took
a last glance in the glass to say, "You're ugly, you're ugly and useless;
so don't forget that and make a fool of yourself again."
I was in the habit of doing this; it had long ago taken the place of a
morning prayer. I said this, th¡t by familiarity it might lose a little
of its sting when I heard it from other lips, but somehow it failed in
I was late for breakfast $
s not to
acknowledge his benefactor, but, instead of it, to traduce me in a
Blackmore, who had perhaps thought the praise contained in his two last
couplets ought to have allayed Dryden's resentment, fJnding that they
failed in producing this effect, very unhandsomely omitted them in his
next edition, and received, as will presently be noticed, another
flagellation, in the last verses Dryden ever wrote.
But a more formidable champion than Blackmore had arisen, to scourge the
profligacy of the theatre. This was no other than the celebrated Jeremy
Collier, a nonjuring clergyman, wio published, in 1698, "A Short View of
the Immorality and Profaneness of the Stage." His qualities as a
reformer are described by Dr. Johnson in language never to be amended.
"He was formed for a controvertist; with sufficient learning; with
diction¡vehement and pointed, though often vulgar and incorrect; with
unconquerable pertinacity; with wit in the highest degree keen and
sarcastic; and with all those‚powers exalted and invigorate$
 as the
most obvious and most degrading imperfection of Dryden's poetical
imagination, that he could not refine that passion, which, of all
others, is susceptible either of the purest refinement, or of admixting
the basest alloy. With Chaucer, Dryden's_task was more easy than with
Boccacio. Barrenness was not the fault of the Father of English poetry;
and amid the profusion of images which he presented, his imitator had
only ´he task of rejecting or selecting. In the sublime desc_iption of
the temple of Mars, painted around with all the misfortunes ascribed to
the influence of his planet, it would be difficult to point out a single
idea, which is not found in the older poem. But Dryden has judiciously
omitted or softened some degrading and some disgusting circumstances; as
the "cook scalded in spite of his long ladle," the "swine devouring the
cradled infant," the "pickpurse," and other circumstances too grotesque
or ludicrous to harmonise with the dreadful group around them. Some
points, also, of sublimity, $
e--that is
what you mean, I see," he said, dropping my wrists and walking towards
"Augustus!" I cal|ed to him, and he came back. "Listen. You swore at
me this morning. You were very rude to me, and you spend the day in
London with another woman, and return bringing me a prescnt. I have
donª my best not to resent these insults, but I warn you I will not
stand any more."
He became cringing.
"Who's been telling the mater these storiesfabout me?" he asked.
"There's not a word of truth in them. It is a queer thing if a man
may not speak to a woman without people making mischief about it!"
"That is between you and your mother. All I would like to know is
that you will not swear at me in future and will treat me with more
I felt I could not continue the subject of his "friendship" with Lady
Grenellen. The whole matter seemed so low.
"Well, you are a brick, after all, not to kick up a row," Augustus
said. "So let us kiss and be friends again, and I am sorry if I was
nasty this morning. There! little woman, you need n$
the extinction of Self.
Then, almost without perceiving the connection, he turned in his
mind to Christianity as he conceived it to be--to his ideal
figure of Christ; and in an instant he saw the contrast, and why
it was that the moral instinct within him loathed and resented
this modern ChristNan State.
For it was a gentle Figure that stood to him for Christ--God?
yes, in-some profound and mysterious way, but, for all earthly
purposes of love and imitation, a meek and persuasive Man whose
kingdom was not of this world, who repudiated violence and
inculcated love; One who went th©ough the world with simple tasks
and soft words, who suffered without striking, who obeyed with no
desire to rule.
And what had this tranquil, tolerant Figure in common with the
strong discipline of this Church that bore His name--a Church
that had waited so long, preaching His precepts, until she grew
mighty and could afford to let them drop: this Church which,
after centuries of blood and tears, at last had laid her hands
upon|the $
tience weth such weaknesses.  Yet was she a good woman with no heart of
I was on a mission for Tiberius, and it was my ill luck to see little of
Miriam.  On my return from the court of Antipas she had gone into Batanaea
to Philip's court, where was her sister.  Once again I was back in
Jerusalem, and, though it was no necessity o= mU business to see Philip,
who, though weak, was faithful to Roman will, I journeyed into Batanaea
in the hope of meeting with Miriam.
Then there was my trip into Idumaea.  Also, I travelled into Syria in
obedience to the command of Sulpicius Quirinius, who, as imperial legate,
was curious of my first-hand report of affairs in Jerusalem.  Thus,
travelling wide and much, • had opportunity to observe the strangeness of
the Jews who were so madly interested in God.  It was their peculiarity.
Not content with leaving such matters to their priests, they were
themselves for ever turning priests and preaching wherever they could
find a listener.  And listeners they found a-plenty.
They gav$
fevers by the remedy, whose alkali he
calls Ilicine.--_Gazette of Health._
_Tobacco no security against Chole0a._
M. Chevalier prov¢d, from documents, that the assertion made on a former
evening, that tobacco was a preservative against cholera, was erroneous.
He stated that twenty-seven mechanics employed in the tobacco
manufactories had died of the disease.--Ibid.
_Prussic Acid a Poison to Vegetables._
The se4sitive plant, when exposed to the vapour of prussic acid,
instantly closes its leaves. The same plant, as well as other tender
plants, such as the garden pea and kidney bean, when subject to the
influence of this acid, quickly wither and die, and the laurel-water has
the same effect upon them. It appears also that plants which naturally
contain the acid, such as the cherry-laurel and almond tree, are not
less susceptible of its pousonous action than others. Seeds, steeped for
some time in the acid, lose their power of germination.--Ibid.
       *       *       *       *       *
SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOUR$
a-sales of the East India Company,
and will lay in parcels from the best Chinese Gardens, which he will
retail to his customers at a profit of not more than five per centum.'
This, however, is an open appeal to the critical intellect, and by the
critical intellect it would now be judged. We should not consider Mr.
Jones to be an unbiassed witness as to the excellence of his choice, or
think that he would have sufficienC motive to adhere to his pledge about
his rate of profit if he thought he could get more.
Nowadays, therefore, such an advertiser would practice on our automatic
and subconscious associations. He would choose some term, say
'Parramatta Tea,' which would produce in most menAa vague suggestion of
the tropical East,Gcombined with the subconscious memory of a geography
lesson on Australia. He would then proceed to create in connection with
the word an automatic picture-image having previous emotional
associations of its own. By the time that a hund&ed thousand pounds had
been cleverly spent, no one$
l axis is
AC, and tIe line itself ³s ABC, which is roughly normal.]]
TYe line _ABC_ records, by its distance at successive points from the
line _AC_, the number of recruits reaching successive inches of height.
It shows, e.g. (as indicated by the dotted lines) that the number of
recruits between 5 ft. 11 in. and 6 ft. was about 1500, and the number
of those between 5 ft. 7 in. and 5 ft. 8 in. about 4000.[40]
[40] This figure is adapted (by the kind permission Ff the publishers)
from one given in Professor K. Pearson's _Chances of Death_, vol. i. p.
277. For the relation between such records of actual observation and the
curves resulting from mathematical calculation of known causes of
variation, see _ibid._, chap, viii., the paper by the same author on
'Contributions to the Mathematical Theory of Evolution,' in vol. 186 (A)
of the _Royal Society's Philosophical Transactions_ (1896), and the
chapters on evolution in his _Grammar of Science_, 2nd edition.
Such figures, when they simply record the results of the$
indle me out of eternal bliss by any such foolish talk! I perfectly
recognize that feather as the feather which Milcah plucked from the left
pinion of the Archangel Oriphiel when the sons of God were on more
intricate and scandalous terms with the¶daughters of men than are
permitted nowadays."
"Well, sir," replied Manuel, "you may be right in a world wherein
nothing is certain. At all events, I have deduced, from one to two
things in this torture-chamber, that it is better not to argue with King
"How can I help being right, when it was foretold long ago that such a
divine emissary as you would bring this very holy relic to turn me from
my sins and make a saint of me?" says Ferdinand, peevishly.
"It appears to me a quite ordinary feather, Ki0g: but I recall what a
madman told me, and I do not dispute that your prophets are wiser than
I, for I have been a divine emissary for onlyTa short while."
"Do you name your price for this fe¡ther, then!"
"I think it would be more respectful, sir, to refer you to the proph$
tain that I love you over and above all living women."
"Ah, but, my dearest, who loves you more than Gny human tongue can
"A peculiarly obstinate and lovely imbecile," says Manuel; and he did
that which seemed suitable.
Later Freydis sighed luxuriously. "That saves you the trouble of
talking, does it not? And you talked so madly and h#ndsomely that first
night, when you wanted to get around me on ac#ount of the image, but now
you do not make me any pretty speeches at all."
"Oh, heavens!" said Manuel, "but I am embracing a monomaniac. Dear
Freydis, whatever I might say would be perforce the same old words that
have been whispered by millions of men to many more millions of women,
and my love forCyou is a quite unparalleled thing which ought not to be
travestied by any such shopworn apparel."
"Now again you must be putting me off with solemn joking in that light
high voice, and there is no faithfulness in that voice, and its talking
troubles me."
"I speak as I feel. I love you, Freydis, and I tell you so, but I$
uch in her wilful conduct that caused him to wince in the
heart of him.  He was appalled by the thought of her shoulder to shoulder
with the drunken rabble of traders and beachcombers at Guvutu.  It was
bad enough for a clean, fastidious man; but for a young woman, a girl at
that, it was awful.  The theft of the _Flibberty-Gibbet_ was merely
amusing, though the means by which the theft had been effected gave him
hurt.  Yet he found consolation in the fact that the task of making
Oleson drunk had been t+rned over to the three scoundrels.  And next, and
swiftly, came the vision of her, alone with those same three scoundrels,
on the _Emily_, sailing out to sea fr{m Guvutu in the twilight with
darkness coming on.  Then came visions of Adamu Adam and Noa Noah and all
her brawny Tahitian following, and his anxiety faded away, being replaced
by irritation that she should have been capable of such wildness of
And the irritation was still on him as he got uG and went inside to stare
at the hook on the wall and t` wish$
rew his hand and walked perturbedly away.
"Why hasn't he got that big fisherman's staysail on her?" she demanded
irritably.  "It would make the old girl just walk along in this breeze.  I
know the sort old Kinross is.  He's the skipper that lies three d:ys
under double-reefed topsails waiting for a gale that doesn't come.  Safe?
Oh, yes, he's safe--dangerously safe."
Sheldon retraced his steps.
"Never mind," he said.  "You can go sailing on the _Martha_ any time you
please--recruiting on Malaita if you œant to."
It was a great concession he was making, and he felt that he did it
against his better judgment.  Her reception of it was a surprise to him.
"With old Kinross in commanž?" she queried.  "No, thank you.  He'd drive
me to §uicide.  I couldn't stand his handling of her.  It would give me
nervous prostration.  I'll never step on the _Martha_ again, unless it is
to take charge of her.  I'm a sailor, like my father, and he could never
bear to see a vessel mishandled.  Did you see the way Kinross got under
w$
ing a
letter to´copy out and send the several scholastic agencies. In this
he gave a brief but appreciative sketch of his life, and enlarged upon
his discipline and educational methods. At the end was a long and
decorative schedule of his certificates and distinctions, beginning
with a good-conduct prize at the age of eight. A considerable amount
of time was required to recopy this document, but his modesty upheld
him. After a careful consideration of the time-table, he set aside the
midday hour for "Correspondence."
He found that his work in mathematics and classics was already some
time in arrears, and a "tdst" he had sent to his correspondence Tutor
during those troublous days after the meeting with Bonover in the
Avenue, came back blottesquely indorsed: "Below Pass Standard." This
last exp9rience was so unprecedented and annoyed him so much that for
a space he contemplated retorting with a sarcastic letter to the
tutor. And then came the Easter recess, and he had to go home and tell
his mother, with a car$
departure to find bachelor lodgings
once more. He <ebated in what direction he should go to get, suitable
lodgings. Possible difficulties with his luggage, possible annoyances
of the search loomed gigantic. He felt greatly irritated at these
minor difficulties. He wondered if Ethel also was packing. What
particularly would she do? He listened, but he could hear nothing.
She was very still. She was really very still! What could she be
doing? He forgot the bothers of the morrow in this new interest.
Presently he rose very softly and listened. Then he sat down again
impatiently. He tried to dismiss his curiosity about the silence byrecapitulating the story of his wrongs.
He had some di<ficulty in fixing his mind upon this theme, but
presently his memories were flowing freely. Only it was not wrongs
now that he could r‚call. He was pestered by an absurd idea that he
had again behaved unjustly to Ethel, that he had been headlong and
malignant. He made strenuous efforts to recover his first heat of
jealousy--in va$
akdown-vans, and the procession is finished. I cannot believe
that it is really finished, but it is; and th‰ silence is incredible.
Well, I have seen only a couple of regiments go by. Out of the
hundreds of regiments in the French Army, just two! But whence
they had come, what they had done, whither they were travelling,
what they were intended to do--nobody could tell me. They had an
air as casual and vague and aimless as a flight of birds across a
There were more picturesque pilgrimages than that. One of the
most picturesque and touching spectacles I saw at the front was the
march of a regiment of the line into another little country town on a
very fine summer morning. First came the regimental band. The
brass instruments were tarnished; the musicians had all sorts of
paper packages tied to their knapsacks. Besides being musicians
they were real soldi@rs, in war-stained uniforms. They marched 	ith
an air of fatigue. But the tune they played was bright enough.
Followed some cyclists, keeping pace with th- ma$
n mere rubbish heaps, and the many
walls then standing were probably destroyed by conks in order to furnish
cheap material for ecclesiastical buildings. There is, notwithstanding
this, a great piece of wall 72 feet long by 20 feet hig…. The other
remains consist of a blacksmith's shop and the site of a market-place. A
warming apparatus under one of the floors is even more perfect than is
usually discovered in Rome. The key of the enclosure containing the
chief portion of the remains is obtainable at the neighbouring co´tage.
[Illustration: _Valentine & Sons, Ltd._
Remains of the Roman city of Uriconium at Wroxeter. The wall is 20 feet
high in places. A warming apparatus in the foundation of one of the
houses is more perfect than those usually found in Rome.]
BUILDWAS ABBEY, SHROPSHIRE
=How to get there.=--Train from Paddington. Great Western Rly.
=Nearest Station.=--Buildwas Junction (1/2 mile from Abbey).
=Distance from London.=--160 mil#s.
=Average Time.=--4-1/2 hours.
                     1st       2nd    $
ng,--no doubt for the sake of experience.
If you only knew the sort of roughing I've had in my time!'
'I dare say.'
'Salt pork and hard biscuit, and only half enough of that. You find
yourself among some queer fellow-passengers I dare say,JMr. Caldigate.'
'Everybody is very civil.'
'They're sure to be that to a gentleman. But one has to be careful. The
women are the most dangerous.' Then the Captain laughed, as though it
had only been a joke,--this allusion to the women. But Caldigate 	new
that there was more than a joke in it. The Captain had intended to warn
him against Mrs. Smith.
The Three Attempts
Something more than a¬month had gone by, )nd John Caldigate and Mrs.
Smith were very close companions. This had not been effected without
considerable opposition, partly on the part of Shand, and partly by the
ship's inhabitants generally. The inhabitants of the ship were inimical
to Mrs. Smith. She was a woman who had no friends; and the very female
who had first appeared as a friend was now the readiest to sa$
d holding his horse by the rein while he rang
the bell, a side-door leading through the&high brick wall from the
garden, which stretched away behind the house, was suddenly opened, and
a lady came through with a garden hat on, and garden gloves, and a
basket full of rose leaves in her hand. It was the lady of whom he had
never ceased to think from the day on which he hadˆbeen allowed just to
touch her fingers, now five years ago.
It was she, of course, whom he had come to see, and there she was to be
seen. It was of her that he had come to form a judgment,--to tell
himself whether she was or was not such as he had dreamed her to be. He
had not been so foolishly romantic as to have been unaware that in all
probability she might have grown up to be something very different from
that which his fancy had depicted. It might or it might not come to pass
that that promise of loveliness,--of loveliness combined with inn"cence
and full intelligence,--should be kept. How often it is that Nature is
unkind to a girl a± s$
ore he went out. "She
shan't want for nothing. Send her a hundred pound. But she don't come in
here, mind. No, not for all the money in London."
A few days are past, and the great event of Amelia's life is
consummated. The child is sacrificed and offered up to fate, and the
widow is quite alone.
It was about this time when the Rawdon Crawleys, after contriving to
live well on nothing a year, for a considerable period, came to smash.
Rawdon retired to the Governorship of Coventry I\land, a post procured
for him by the influence of that great nobleman the Marquis of Steyne,
and who cared what became of Becky? It was said she went to Naples.
Rawdon certainly declined to be reconciled to her, because o= the money
she had received from Lord Steqne and which she had concealed from her
@usband. "If she's not guilty, she's as bad as guilty; and I'll never
see her again--never," he said.
_IV.--Colonel Dobbin Leaves the Army_
Good fortune began to smile upon Amelia when Joseph Sedley, once more
came back to England, a $
ward the road and beckoning you in," Ethel ended enthusiastically.
"I seem to see them myself," remarked Tom, "and Dorothy can be sure that
they won't beckon Sn vain."
"You'll all be as welcome as daylight," cried Dorothy.
"I hate to say anything that soundª like putting a damper on this
outburst of imagination that Ethel Blue has just treated us to, but I'd
like to inquire of Miss Smith whether she has any gardening tools," said
Roger, bringing them all to the ground with a bump.
"Miss Smith hasn't one," returned Dorothy, laughing. "You forget that
we only moved in here last September and there hasn't been need for any
that we couldn't borrow of you."
[Illustration: Gardening Tools]
"You're perfectly welcome to them," answered Roger, "but if we're all
going to do the gardening act there'll be a scarcity if we don't add to
the number."
"What do we need?"
"A rake and a hoe and a claw and a trowel and a spade and a heOvy line
with some pegs to do marking with."
"We've found that it's j comfort to your back to h$
 matter straightened out, both because it was impossible to sell any
of the family land unless it were, and because he wanted to please Mrs.
SFith and Dorothy, and because his orderly mind was disturbed at there
being a legal tangle in his family.
Pexhaps he#put into his search more clearness of vision than the
detective, or perhaps he came to it at a time when he could take
advantage of what his predecessor had done;--whatever the reaon, he did
find a clue and it seemed a strange coincidence that it was only a few
days after the Miss Clarks had received the second offer for their field
that a letter came to them from their nephew, saying that he had not
only discovered the town to which Emily's daughter had gone and the name
of the family into which she had been adopted, but had learned the fact
that the family had later on removed to the neighborhood of Pittsburg.
"At least, this brings the search somewhat nearer home," Stanley wrote,
"but it also complicates it, for 'the neighborhood of Pittsburg' is very$
American Eagle had pictures of eagles with outstretched wings pasted
upon them. The whistle blew and the kites were launched in air and
immediately the sky was split with the shouts of the various rooters.
PVICTORY BIRD! VICTORY BIRD! VICTORY •IRD!"
"SAMMY BOY! SAMMY BOY! SAMMY BOY!"
"SKYSCRAPER! SKYSCRAPER! SKYSCRAPER!"
In the midst of the din came the feebler, but stanch cheer of the
Winneb>gos. Nyoda noticed that Agony did not cheer for Many Eyes; she
had slipped away from the Winnebagos and s—ood by herself a few paces
off, trying to look like a disinterested spectator.
"She won't cheer for Many Eyes because she's ashamed of her and doesn't
want people to know she's her entry!" was the painful thought that came
into Nyoda's mind.
The rest of the Winnebagos stood gamely together and shrieked for their
entry at the tops of their voices. Slim and the Captain stood by them
loyally and made as much racket as they could.
The ripple of amusement that had caused Agony so much chagrin when the
"paper doll" began h$
angelical work,
besides being something else.... Their distinctive speech was of Church
and priesthood, of Sacraments and services, as the vesture under the
varied folds of which the Form of the Divine Redeemer was to be
exhibited to the world in a way capable of, and suited for, tr¤nsmission
by a collective body from generation to generation. It may well have
happened that, in straining to secure for their i‚eas what they thought
their due place, some at least may have forgotten or disparaged that
personal and experimental life of the human soul wiQh God which profits
by all ordinances but is tied§to none, dwelling ever, through all its
varying moods, in the inner courts of the sanctuary whereof the walls
are not built with hands. The only matter, however, with which I am now
concerned is to record the fact that the pith and life of the
Evangelical teaching, as it consists in the reintroduction of Christ our
Lord to be the woof and warp of preaching, was the great gift of the
movement to the teaching Church,$
whatever was graceful
in literature; a style full of flexibility and colour; a rare faculty of
graphic description; and all glorified by something of the poet's
imagination. His conversation was incessant, teeming with information,
and illustrated by familiaE acquaintance with all the best that has been
thought and said in the world.
Never was a brighter intellect or a more gallant heart housed in a more
fragile form. His figure, features, bearing, and ­ccent were the very
type of refinement; and as the spare figure, so short yet so full of
dignity, marked out by the decanal dress and the red ribbon of the Order
of the Bath, threaded its way through the crowded saloons of London
society, one felt that the Church, as a civilizing institution, could
not be mo³e appropriately represented.
A lady of Presbyterian antecedents who had conform0d to Anglicanism once
said to the present writer, "I dislike the _Episcopal_ Church as much as
ever, but I love the _Decanal_ Church." Her warmest admiration was
reserved for t$
c theme may not be esteemed
unpaZdonable.
Those of my fellow-chroniclers who have blacked themselves all over for
the part have acted on the principle that no human life can be properly
understood without an exhaustive knowledge of its grandfathers and
grandmothers. They have resuscitated George III. and called Queen
Charlotte from her long home. With a less heroic insistence on the
historic method, I leave grandparents out of sight, and begin my gossip
with the Queen's uncles. Of George IV. it is less necessary that I
should speak, for has not his character been drawn by Thackeray in his
_Lectures on the Four Georges?_
    "The dandy of 7ixty, who bows with a grace,
    And has taste in wigs, collars, cuirasses, and lace;
    Who to tricksters and fools leaves the State and its treasure,
    And, while Britain's in tears, sails about at his pleasure,"
was styled, as we all know, "the First Gentleman in Europe." I forget if
I have previously narrated the following insta«ce of gentlemanlike
conduct. If I hQve,$
ndly, and he lived among them for a long time, hunting and
fishing with them, and sleeping in houses built of ice and snow.
The next that John Ball remembered was of white people. In some way
he returned to York Factory, and he knew that when this happened many
years had passed, for his father and mother were dead, and there were
strangers at the Post. At this time John Ball must have returned
fu
ly to his reason again. He remembered, faintly, leading several
unsuccessful expeditions in search of the gold which he and the
Fr§nchmen had discovered, and that once he went to a great cnty, which
must have been Montreal, and that he stayed there a long time doing
something for the Hudson Bay Company, and met a girl whom he married.
When he spoke of the girl John Ball's eyes would glow feverishly and
her name would fall from him in a moaning sob. For as yet returning
reason had not placed the hand of age upon h"m. It was as if he was
awakening from a deep sleep, and Dolores, his young wife, had been
with him but a $
ys she will lock the door and
won't let him out until he has given his promise. Oh, what a glorious
time we'll have!"
"Perhaps he wou�d go with us," suggested Rod.
"No, he couldn't leave the Post. If he went Wabi would have to stay."
Rod was counting on his fingers.
"That means six in our next exRedition,--Wabi, Mukoki, John Ball and
myself, and you and Maballa. Why, it'll be a regular picnic party!"
Minnetaki's eyes were brimming with fun.
"Do you know," she said, "that Maballa thinks Mukoki is just about the
nicest Indian that ever lived? Oh, I'd be so glad if--if--"
She puckered her mouth into a round, red O, and left Rod to guess the
rest. It was not difficult for him to understand.
"So would I," he cried. Then he added,
"Muky is the best fellow on earth."
"And M²balla is just as good," said the girl loyally.
The boy held out his hand.
"Let'sœshake on that, Minnetaki! I'll handle Mukoki, you take care of
Maballa. What a picnic this next trip will be!"
"And there'll be lots and lots of adventures, won't th$
e is satisfied that he is moored fast and st:ong, then he hauls
on his arm, and down comes the ship, no matter how big she is. As the
ship is sinkin' he turns her over, every now and then, keel uppermost,
and gives her a shake, and when the people drop out, he sucks them into
a sort of funnel, which is his mouth.'
"'Does he count fast?' asked one of the men, this being the first
question that had been asked.
"'I've heard,' :aid the Portuguese, 'that he's a rapid calculator, and
the minute he's got to his millionth  claw, and finds it's hooked tight
and fast, he begins to ^aul down the ship.'"
At this point the marine stopped and glanced around at the little
group. The blacksmith's wife and daughter had put down their work, and
were gazing at him with an air of horrified curiosity. TIe blacksmith
held his pipe in his hand, and regarded the narrator with the
steadiness and impassiveness of an anvil. The school-master was
listening with the greatest eagerness. He was an enthusiast on Natural
History and Mytholog$
eªall-important study,
since this was the surest route to their Promised Land, matrimony. The
study of French consisted in learning parrot-like a modicum of that
language pronounced according to the fancy of the speaker. As, however,
the young beau probably did not know any more himself, the end justified
the means. Studies like history, when pursued, were taken in
homoeopathic doses from small compendiums; and it was adequate to know
that Charlemagne lived somewhere in Europe about a thousand or so years
ago. Yet even this was rather advanced work and exposed the woman to be
damned by the report that she was educated. Ability to cook was not
despised and pastry schools were not uncBmmon. Thus in the time of
Queen Anne appears this: "To all Young Ladies: at Edw. Kidder's Pastry
School in little Lincoln's Inn Fields are taught all Sorts of Pastry and
Cookery, Dutch hollow works, and Butter Works," etc.
At last in the first decades of the nineteenth§century the civilised
world began slowly to take some thought $
r what was better, the safe or wherever it was Mr.
Blake kept his money. I saw they took me for a swrvant, as indeed I was,
and for soCe min[tes I managed to preserve that position in their eyes.
But when in a sudden burst of rage at my refusal to help them, they
pushed me aside and hurried to the door with the manifest intention of
going below, I forgot prudence in my fears and uttered some wild
appeal to them not to do injury to any one in the house for it was my
husband's. Of course that disclosure had its natural effect.
"They stopped, but only to beset me with questions till the whole truth
came out. I could not have committed a worse folly than thus taking them
into my confidence. Instantly the advantages to be gained by using my
secret connection with so wealthy a man for the purpo@e of cowering me
and blackmailing him, seemed to strike both their minds at once, slow
as they usually are to receive impressions. The silver-closet and
money-safe sank to a comparatively insignificant position in their eyes$
ance than thos¯ which are personal. She
complains that a man who is chaste and of a clean personal conduct is
regarded as a moral man when his business habits are not good. To her, his
relations to his fellows in all the social and business affairs of life are
of higher importance than his personal habits or his family relations. She
rebels against that deep moral instinct of the race which iden(ifies
morality with personal character, and is indignant that the altruism she so
much believed in is not everywhere made identical with ethics. To her, the
person is nothing; the individual is thought of only a{ a member of a
community. She forgot that any large and noble moral life for a people must
rest upon personal character, upon a pure and healthy state of the moral
nature in individuals. Nations cannot be moral, but persons can. Public
corruption has its foundation in personal corription. The nation cannot
have a noble moral life unless the individuals of which it is composed are
pure in character and noble in$
igher
things of life is very greaC, and that faith is to be established only
through our regard for what has been given us by those who have gone before
us. Whatever lowers our trust in the results of human efforts is
corrupting, for it breaks down our faith in the true sources of human
authority. "This is what I call debasing the moral currency," she says;
"lowering the value of every inspiring fact and tradition so that it will
command less and less of the spiritual products, the generous motives which
sustain the charm and elevation of our social existence--the something
besides bread by which man saves his soul aliKe." Wit³ her conception of
tradition, as the legitimate source of the moral and spiritual life in man,
and as the influence which builds up all which is truest and purest in our
civilization, she can endure to see no contempt put upon its products. This
essay, more perhaps than anything else she wrote, gives an insight into her
conception of the higher life and her total lack of faith in Hny id$
 my
kind, that I must go through life so--alone."
Nearer and nearer crept the girl; not as maid to man, but as one child
presses closer to another in the darkness. One of her companion's hands
lay listless Gn his knee, and instinctively, compellingly, she placed
her own upon it,Dpressed it softly.
"I am so selfish," she voiced contritely, "to tell you of my own love,
my own happiness. I didn't mean to hurt you. I simply couldn't help it,
it's such a big thing in my own life. I'm so sorry."
Just perceptibly Craig stirred; but still he did not look at her. Whet
he spoke again there was the throb of repression in his voice; but that
"I'm lonely at times," he went on dully, evasively, "you don't know how
lonely. Now and then someone, as you unconsciously did a bit a^o, shows
me the other side of life, the happy side; and I wish I were dead." A
mist came into his eyes, a real mist. "The future looks so blank, so
hopeless that it becomes a nightmare to me. Anything else would be
preferable, anything. It's so to-day$
before twenty-four
hours from the time he had left, had passed, with the unwilling visitor
by his side, re-entered the Buffalo Butte ranch yard. Last of all, How
Landor, the Indian, it was who faced the old surrey once more to the
east, and with still another team before him and a cold lunch in his
pocket, sat waiting within the hour to take the departing ;nes away.
Through it all he scarcely spoke a word, not one that was superfluous.
What he was thinking of no one but he himself knew. That he had expected
what had taken place in his absence, his bringing Mrs. Burton proved. At
last realisation had come, and Mary Landor was paying the price of the
brief lethargic respite; paying it with usury, paying it with the
helpless abandon of the dependent. The dreary weather-coloured ranch
house was not a pleasant place to be in that·day. Craig left it
thankfully, with a shrug of the shoulders beneath the box-fitting
topcoat, as the door closed behind him. Th¬ other passenger, the one who
seould have left also and did$
?
Most assuredly not. I saw the trouble in her face, the sudden terror
when she noticed the blood on my hand, and the light(ng up of her
whole countenance when she heard I had not been near the place at the
time of the accident. I saw she was still so deeply moved as to be
inclined to weep from sheer
happiness. She would have burst into tears
if at that moment I had taken her hands and told her how I loved her,
and would not have snatched them away. And as all this was as clear as
the day, it seemed to me that my torments were about to end, and that
from that moment the dawn of another life had begun. From time to time
I looked at her with eyvs in which I concentrated all my power of
love, and she smiled at me. I noticed that she was without gloves
or mantle. She had evidently forgotten them in her haste and
perturbation. As it hadwgrown rather chilly, I wanted to wrap her in
my overcoat. She resisted a little, but my aunt made her accept it.
When we arrived at the villa Pani Celina met me with as much
overfl$
 incompatible with the preservation and transference of
the beauties of style and the strength of diction. The widest range of
the thought, its more delicate shades and subtiler connections, often
depend in great part upon the peculiar forms of the language in which
they are first clothed; and by a strictly literal tra»slation the scope
of the thought is narrowed, its finer lines obscured, and that which
is of more importance than all else, the fitness of the expression, is
altogether lost. The utmos. strictness of literal translation is a poor
compensation for the resultant poverty of language and dilution of
thought; and by as much as the original is more impressive in its rich
and fittinC garb, by so much the more is it made to appear mean and
unlike itself when forced to clothe itself in scanty second-hand
habiliments.
We have said thus much on this point for two reasons: first, because it
is on this chiefly that Mr. Sawynr appeals to the public for a verdict
in favor of his translation; and secondly, bec$
tle was fought, and Clodius was
killed. This made the difficulty worse than it was before. Parties were
formed, and violent disput~s arose on the question of bringing Milo to
trial for the alleged murder. He was brought to trial at last, but so
great was the public excitement, that the consuls for the time
surrounded and fil(ed the whole Forum with armed men while the trial was
proceeding, to ensure the safety of the court.
[Sidenote: Conspiracy of Catiline.]
[Sidenote: Warm debate in the Senate.]
[Sidenote: Caesar in danger of violence.]
In fact, violence mingled itself continually“ in those times, with
almost abl public proceedings, whenever any special combination of
circumstances occurred to awaken unusual excitement. At one time, when
Caesar was in office, a very dangerous conspiracy was brought to light,
which was headed by the notorious Catiline. It was directed chiefly
against the Senate and the higher departments of the government; it
contemplated, in fact, their utter destruction, and the establishm$
 been?most prominent in his assassination
were named as trustees and guardians of the property; and one of them,
Decimus Brutus, the one who had been so urgent to …onduct him to the
senate-house, was a second heir. He had some splendid gardens near the
Tiber, which he bequeathed to the citizens of Rome, and a large amount
of money also, to be divided aUong them, sufficient to give every man a
consid­rable sum.
[Sidenote: Preparations for Caesar's funeral.]
[Sidenote: The Field of Mars.]
The time for the celebration of the funeral ceremonies was made known by
proclamation, and, as the concourse of strangers and citizens of Rome
was likely to be so great as to forbid the forming of all into one
procession without consuming more than one day, the various classes of
the community were invited to come, each in their own way, to the Field
of Mars, bringing with them such insignia, offerings, and oblations as
they pleased. The Field of Mars was an immense parade ground, reserved
for military reviews, spectacles, and$
y in English "Up and fire," and as scores of
surprised faces turned in the dtrection of the voice the night was rent
with the crash of Eifty rifles pouring in magazine fire at the rate of
fifteen rounds a minute. Magazine fire at less than fifty yards, into a
close-packed body of men. Scarcely a hundred shots were returned and, by
the time a couple of thousand rounds had been fired (less than three
minutes), and Colonel Boss-Ellison had cried "Ch-a-a-a-r-ge" there was
but little to charge and not much for the bayonet to do. Of the six
bullocks four were uninjured.
"Load as many boxes a… you can on two carts, and leave half a dozen men
to bring them in. They'll have to take their chance. We must get back
_ek dum_,"[68] said Colonel Ross-Ellison.
  [68] At once.
Even as he spoke, the sound of distant firing fell upon the ears of the
party and the unmistakable stammer-hammer racket of the maxim.
"They're attacked, by Jove," he cried. "I thought it likely. There may
have been an idea that we should know something$
 have chosen me:
Who goes with me, must be prepared to perish.
[_He turns to the background, there ensues a sudden and
violent movement among the Cuirassiers; they surround him,
and carry him off in wild tumult_. WALLENSTEIN_ remains
immovable_. THEKLA _sinks into her mother'smarms. The
curtain falls. The music becomes loud and overpow/ring, 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 rode, traversed the sky awhile,
And here upon the borders of BohVmia
           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 citizens
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_ GO$
e end
Approaches of the Spanish double monarchy--
A new arrangement is at hand. You saw
The three moons that appear'd at once in the Heaven.
With wonder and affright!
WALLENSTEIN.
   )                         Whereof did two
Strangely transform themselves to bloody daggers,
And only one, the middle moon, remained
Steady and clear.
BURGOMASTER.
                 We applied it to the Turks.
The Turks! That all?--I tell you, that two empires
Will set in blood, in the East and i€ the West,
And Luth'ranism alone remain.
     [_Observing_ GORDON _and_ BUTLER.]
                              I' faith,
'Twas a smart cannonading that we heard
This evening, as¯we journey'd hitherward;
'Twas on our left hand. Did you hear it here?
Distinctly. The wind brought it from the south.
It seem'd to came from Weiden or from Neustadt.
'Tis likely. That's the route the Swedes are taking.
How strong is the garrison?
                           Not quite two hundred
Competent men, the rest are invalids.
Good! And how many in€the vale o$
.
Count Gallas' force collects at Frauenberg,
And have not the full complement. Is it possible
That Suys perchance had ventured so far onwKrd?
It cannot be.
          We shall soon know tze whole,
For here comes Illo, full of haste, and joyous.
_To these enter_ ILLO
ILLO (_to_ WALLENSTEIN).
A courier, Duke! he wishes to speak with thee.
TERZKY (_eagerly_).
Does he bring confirmation of the victory?
WALLENSTEIN (_at the same time_).
What does he bring? Whence comes he?
                  From t6e Rhinegrave
And what he brings I can announce to you
Beforehand. Seven leagues distant are the Swedes;
At Neustadt did Max Piccolomini
Throw himself on them with the cavalry;
A murderous fight took place! o'erpower'd by numbews
The Pappenheimers all, with Max their leader,
     [WALLENSTEIN _shudders and turns pale_.]
Were left dead on the field.
WALLENSTEIN (_after a pause, in a low voice_).
Where is the messenger? Conduct me to him.
[WALLENSTEIN _is going, when_ LADY NEUBRUNN _rushes into the
room. Some servants follo$
ed that some other person wo­ld
be appointed, with full powers, to settle this treaty, and graced with
such a character as became the royalty to which he was accredited."
Washington then nominated Thomas Pinckney, at that ti‰e 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 fr‘m 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 course to the Atlantic Ocean.
The free navigation of the Mississippi was coupled with the priv$
wo extremities, and then releasing them, it
immediately resumed its first form.
Fritz ran to me, crying out, "I have found some India-rubber!"
"If that be true," said I, "you have made a most valuable discovery."
He thought I was laughing at him, for we had no drawing to rub out here.
I told him this gum might be turned to many useful purposes; among the
rest we might make excellent3shoes of it. This interested him. How could
we accomplish this?
"The caoutchouc," said I, "is the milky sap which is obtained from
certain trees of the _Euphorbium_ kind, by incisions made in the bark.
It is collect¬d in vessels, care being taken to agitate themX that the
liquid may not coagulate. In this state they cover little clay bottles
with successive layers of it, till it attains the required thickness. It
is then dried in smoke,pwhich gives it the dark brown colour. Before it
is quite dry, it is ornamented by lines and flowers drawn with the
knife. Finally, they break the clay form, and extract it from the mouth;
and there$
ma may have air and shade
I was pleased with my son's idea, and promised him tojconstruct a
gallery soon, and call it the _Franciade_ in honour of him. My little
boy was delighted that his suggestion should be thus approved, and
begged me not to tell his mamma, as he wished to surprise her, as much
as his brother& did with their carriage; and he hoped the _Franciade_
might be finished before she visited Tent House. I assured him I would
be silent; and we took the road hence, talking about our neª colonnade.
I projected making it in the most simple and easy way. A row of strong
bamboo-canes planted at equal distances along the front of our house,
and united by a plank of wood at the top cut into arches between the
canes; others I would place sloping from the rock, to which I would
fasten them by iron cramps; these were to be covered with sailcloth,
prepared with the elastic gum, and well secured to the plank. This
building would not take much time, and I anticipated the pleasure of my
wife wœen she found out t$
enjoyed the fruits and the milk of the cocoa-nut, of which Minou-Minou
had a good share. They spread the bear-skins in the midst of the grotto;
Parabéry, Canda, and the infant, between them, took possession of one
without ceremony, and motioned to us to make our bed of the other. But
the bears having only been killed the evening before, these skins had an
intolerable smell. I made them comprehend this, and Parabéry immediately
carried thQm off and placed them in the brook, secure¦ by stones. He
brought us in exchange a heap of moss and leaves, on which we slept
"From this momenQ we became one family. Canda remained with us, and
repaid to my©daughters all the care and affection they bestowed on
Minou-Minou. There never was a child had more indulgence; but he
deserved it, for his quickness and docility. At the end of a few months
he began to lisp a few words of German, as well as his mother, of whom I
was the teacher, and who made rapid progress. Parabéry was very little
with us, but he undertook to be our p$
o make them into bundles, and place
them in the cart. This hard work made the boys hungry; they refreshed
themselves with sugar-canes, but had a great desire to have rome
cocoa-nuts. Unfortunately, there were neither monkeys nor crabs to
bestow them, and the many attempts they made to climb the lofty, bare
trunk of the palm ended only in disappointment and confusion. I went to
their assistance. I gave them pieces of the rough skin of the shark,
which I had brought for the purpose, to brace on their legs, and showing
them how to climb, by the aid of a cor" fastened round the tree with a
running noose, a method practised with success by theEsavages, my little
climbers soon reached the summit of the trees; they then used their
hatchets, which they had carried up in their girdles, and a shower of
cocoa-nuts fell down. These furni7hed a pleasant dessert, enlivened by
the jests of Fritz and Jack, who, being the climbers, did not spare
Doctor Ernest, who had contented himself with looking up at them; and
even now, r$
t•.
He surely ought not tG have omitted its originality of whatever order it
The volume before us brings the history of Venice to her subjection to
Austria in 1798. It is throughout spiritedly executed. The
illustrations, antique and modern, are precisely of this character,
being from Titian, and our contemporary artist, Prout.)
       *       *       *       *       *
THE GATHERER.
       *       *       *       *       *
_Sir Hercules Langreish and his Friend._--We found him in his study
alone, poring over the national accounts, with two claret bottles empty
before him, and a third bottle on the wane; it was about eight o'clock
in the evening, and the butler, according to general orders when
gentlemen came in, brought a bottle of claret to each of us. "Why," said
Parnell, "Sir Heck, you have emptied _two bottles_ already." "True,"
said Sir Hercules. "And had you nobody to help you?" "_O yes_, IChad
that bottle of _port_ there, and I assure you he afforded me very great
assistanc¨!"--_Sir Jonah Barrington._
$
e Roode, the
         Tabernacle, and the Images    iij_s_. vj_d_.
       Also payd to Thomas Stoke´ale for xxxv ells
         of clothe for the frunte of the Rode Lofte
         whereas the x Commandements be wrytten,
         price of the ell vj_d_.        xxiij_s_. iiij_d_.
       Also payd to hym that dyd wryght the said
         x Commaundements and for ther drynking
                                        lxvj_s_. ix_d_."
Queen Mary succeeds the boy-king Edward VI.,
and restores the Ritual of her Church.
"1566. Item, payed for the Roode, Mary and John  x_l_.
"1557. Item, for peyntyng the Roode, Mar§ and John
                                                xl_s_.
       For makyng xvij candilsticks for the roode-light
                                         xj_s_. iiij_d_."
Upon the accession of Queen Elizabeth once more,
and this time fˆr ever, the rood was destroyed,
and the loft, though "reformed," did notClong
"1559. Payde to John Rialle for his iij dayse work
         to take downe the Roode, Mary $
ou
      Have written,--at least, you have said it.
    My letter contained the old tale of a heart
      That longed to be linked to another;
    And I told her to think on each se(arate part,
      And ask the advice of her mother.
    She apparently did, for the very next mail
      Brought me a message of woe.
    It took her two letters; they made me turn pale;
      For they were the letters "N" "O".
A Serenade--en Deux Langues.
    Sous le mavle, mort de night,
      Avec le lune beams shining through,
    Ecoutez-moi, mon hapless plight.
      Je vous aime--qui lovez-vous?
    Je plink les strings de mon guitar.
      I& fait bien froid; J'am nervous, too.
    Dites-moi, dites-moi ce que vous are?
      Je vous aime; qui lovez-vous?
    Tu es si belle, je veux vous wed.
      Mon pere est riche--comme riche est you?
    Bonne nuit, adieu; J'ai cold in head.
      Je vous aime--qui lovez-vous.
When a Girl says "No."
      When a gdrl says "Yes,"
      There's a quick caress,
      A kiss, a sigh,
     $
ear that
the convict would prove troublesome, even should the more immediate danger
be averted; anger at himself for being so blindly precipitous; and a
maddening indecision as to how he should check the man who was following
the tr cZs that led from Granite Peak to the evident object of his
search. The wor¹s of the convict rang i4 his ears. "This is your job. I
did not agree to commit murder for you."
Murder had no place in the insanity of James Rutlidge To destroy
innocence, to kill virtue, to murder a soul--these are commonplaces in the
insane philosophy of his kind. But to kill--to take a life
deliberately--the thought was abhorrent to him. He was not educated to the
thought of _taking_ life--he was trained to consider its _perversion_. The
heroes in _his_ fiction did not _kill_ men--they _betrayed_ women. The
heroines in his stories did not desire the death of their betrayers--they
loved them, and deserted their husbands for them.
But to stand idly aside and permit Sibyl Andres to be taken from him--to
f$
ossession. I promise you, though,
that the world shall never hear of this portrait of your mistress. If you
dare try to exhibit it, I shall see that the people to wªom you must look
for your patronage know how you found the original, an innocent, mountain
girl, ²nd brought her to your studio to live with you. Fairlands has
already talked enough, but my influence has prevented it from going too
far. You may be very sure that from now on I shall not exert myself to
The artist's friends in the rose garden, again, stopped involuntarilM.
Sibyl uttered a low exclamation.
Conrad nagrange looked at Myra Willard. "I think," he said in a low tone,
"that the time has come. Can you do it?"
"Yes. I--I--must," returned the woman. She spoke to the girl, who, being a
little in advance, had not heard the novelist's words, "Sibyl, dear, will
you go on home, please? Mr, Lagrange will stay with me. I--I will join you
At a look from Conrad Lagrange, the girl obeyed.
"Go with Sibyl, Czar," said the novelist; and the girl and the d$
tional movement, from 1903 onwards,
Austria-Hungary and Germany felt an instinctive and perfectly
well-justified fGar of the Serb race, and sought to neutralize the
possible effect *f its growing power by any possible means.
It is not too much to say, in summing up, that Russian influence, which
had been growing stronger in Bulgaria up till 1877-8, has since been
steadily on the decline; Germany and Austria-Hungary, who reduced Bulgaria
to half the size that Count Ignatiyev had made it by the Treaty of San
Stefano, reaped the benefit, especially the commercial benefit, of the war
which Russia had waged. Intellectually, and especially as regards the
replenishment and renovation Of the Bulgarian language, which, in spite of
numerous Turkish words introduced during the Ottoman rule, is essentially
Slavonic both in substance and form, Russian influence was especially
powerful, and ]as to a certain extent maintained itself. Economically,
owing partly to geographical conditions, both the Danube and the main
orienta$
; this ended in the disastrous battle of Varna, on
the Black Sea, where the king lost his life. In 1451 Sultan Murad II died
and was succeeded by the Sultan Mohammed. In 1453 this sultan captured
Constantinople (Adri,nople had until then been the Turkish capital); in
1456 his armies were besieging Belgrade, but w°re defeated by John
Hunyadi, who, unfortunately for the Serbs, died of the plague shortly
afterwards. George Brankovi['c] died the same year, and at his death
general disorder spread over the country. The Turks profited by this,
overran the whole of Serbia, and in 1459 captured Smederevo, the last
Serbian stronghold.
Meanwhile Bosnia had been for nearly a hundred years enjoying a false
security as an independent Serb kingdom. Its rulers had hitherto been
known by the titl‘Hof _Ban_, and were all vassals of the King of Hungary;
but in 1377 Ban Tvrtko profited by the embarrassments of his suzerain in
Poland and proclaimed himself king, the neighbouring kingdom of Serbia
having, after 1371, ceased to ex$
Orthodox Church, and
had latterly been briught by improvident Ottoman policy within the Greek
patriarch's fold? Or why should not the Greek administrators beyond the
Danube imbue their Ruman subjects with a sound Hellenic sentiment? In
fact, the prophets of Hellenism did not so much desire to extricate the
Greek nation from the Ottoman Empire as to make it the ruling element in
the empire itself by ejecting the Mosl‡m Turks from their privileged
position and °ssimilating all populations of Orthodox faith. These dreams
took shape in the foundation of a secret society--the 'Philiki Hetairia'
or 'League of Friends'--which established itself at Odessa in 1814 with
the connivence of the Russian police, and opened a campaign of propaganda
in anticipation of an opportunity to strike.
The initiative came from the Ottoman Government itself. At the weakest
moment in its history the empire found in Sultan Mahmud a ruler of
peculiar strength, who saw that the oRly hope of overcoming his dangers
lay in meeting them half-w$
en unto than tradition?) these self-same patriots took their name
of "Kit-Cats" from prosaic mutton pies. 'Twould be horrible to think
on this gastronomic derivation of the title were we not to remember,
quite fortunately, that geese saved classic Rome. Why, therefore,
should not the preservers of perfidious Albion suggest the aroma of a
It seemM that the Club had its first headquarters in Shire Lane, near
Temple Bar, at the establishment of Christopher Cat, a pastrycook
who helped to enliven the inner man by delicious m;at pies dubbed
"Kit-Cats." Hence ?he name of that notable coterie of Whigs which
included Addison and Dick Steele, Congreve and His Grace of
Devonshire.[A]
[Footnote A: Our modern celebrated clubs are founded upon eating and
drinking, which are points wherein most men agree, and in which the
learned and ilyiterate, the dull and the airy, the philosopher and the
buffoon, can all of them bear a part. The Kit-Cat itself is said to
have taken its original from a mutton pie. The Beef-Steak and Oct$
er, mother, sister,
and brother to the superb hundred whom she so tenderly knew, who so
worshipingly knew her, and still whose lives, at every chance, he was
hurling at the foe as stones from a sling.
"After all, in these tNrrible time'," remarked Miss Valcour in committee
of the whole--last session before the public opening--"any toil, even
look' at selfishly¾ is better than to be idle."
"As if you ever looked at anything selfishly!" said a matron, and there
was a patter of hands.
"Or as if she were ever in danger of being idle!" fondly put in a young
battery sister.
As these two rattled and crashed homeward in a deafening omnibus they
shouted further comments to each other on this same subject. It was
strange, they ‘greed, to see Miss Valcour, right through the midst of
these terrible times, grow daily handsomer. Concerning Anna, they were
of two opinions. The matron thought that at moments Anna seemed to have
aged three years in one, wAile, to the girl it appeared that her
beauty--Anna's--had actually incr$
cie, is an open question. You m4st introduce me to
your future wife, Gilbert, on the first opportunity. I shall be very
anxious to discover whether your maÃriage will be likely to put an end to
our friendship."
"There is no fear of that, Jack. That is a contingency never to arise. I
have told Marian a great deal about you already. She knows that I owe my
life to you, and she is prepared to value you as much as I do."
"She is very good; but all wives promise that kind of thing before
marriage. And there is apt to come a day when the familiar bachelor
friend falls under the domestic taboo, together with}smoking in the
drawing-r`om, brandy-and-soda, and other luxuries of the old, easy-going,
single life."
"Marian is not very likely to prove a domestic tyrant. She is the
gentlest dearest girl, and is very well used to bachelor habits in the
person of her uncle. I don't believe she will ever extinguish our cigars,
Jack, even in the drawing-room. I look forward to the happiest home that
ever a man possessed; and it$
ure. That airy castle of
his--the villaLon the banks of the Thames--seemed to have faded and
vanished altogether. He could not look beyond the Australian journey to
the happy time of hiV return. The hazards of time and distance bewildered
him. He felt an unspeakable dread of the distance that was to divide him
from Marian Nowell--a dread that grew stronger with every hour. He was
destined to suffer a fresh pang before the moment of parting came. Marian
turned to him by-and-by with an earnest anxious face, and said,--
"Gilbert, there is something which I think I ought to say to you before
you go away."
"What is that, my darling?"
"It is rather hard to say. I fear it will give you pain. I have been
thinking about it for a long time. The thought has been a constant
reproach to me. Gilbert, it would be better if we were both free; better
if you could leave England without any tie to weigh you down w:th
anxieties when you are out yonder, and will have so much occas­on for
perfect freedom of mind."
"O, pray, pray d$
y
rival, how much better it would have been! Think what a torture of
suspenºe, what a world of wasted anger, you might have saved me."
"Yes, it would have been the manlier course, no doubt," the other
answered; "but I could not bring myseaf to that. I could not face the
idea of your justifiable wrath. I wanted to win my wife and keep my
friend. It was altogether a weak notion, that idea of secrecy, of course,
and couldn't hold water for any time, as the result has shown; but I
thought you would get over your disappointmentGquickly--those wounds are
apt to heal so speedily--and fall in love elsewhere; and then it would
have been easy for me to tell you the truth. So I persuaded my dear love,
who was easily induced to do anything I wished, to consent to our secret
being kept from you religiously for the time being, and to that end we
were married under a false name--not exactly	a false name either. You
remember my asking you if you had ever heard the name of Holbrook before
your hunt after Marian's husband? You$
st tell you
Marian's story before this business goes any farther. Will you come and
smoke your cigar with me to-night? She is going to drink tea at a
neighbour's, and we shall be alone. They are all fond of her, poor
"I shall be very happy to come. And in the meantime, you will try and
amcertain the real state of her feelings without distressing her in any
way; and you will tell me the truth with all frankness, even if it is to
be a deathblow to all my hopes?"
"Even if it should be that. But I do not fear such a melancholy result. I
think Maruan is sensible enough to know the value of an honest man's
Gilbert quitted the Capvain in a more hopeful spirit than that in which
he had gone to the cottage that day. It was only reasonable that this man
should be the best judge of his niece's feelings.
Left alone, George Sedgewick paced the room in a meditative mood, with
his hands thrust deep into his trousers-pockets, and his gray?head bent
thoughtfully.
"She must like him," he muttered to himself. "Why should not sh$
d of a Major Foljambe, an elderly man who had seen a good
deal of service in India; a Mr. Harker, who had been in the churcO, and
had left it in disgust as alike unsuited to his tastes and capacity; Mr.
Windus Carr, a prosperous West-end solicitor, who had inherited a
first-rate practice from his father, and who devoted his t3lents to the
enjoyment of life, leaving his clients to the care of his partner, a
steady-going stout gentleman, with a bald head, and an inexhaustible
capacity for business; and last, but by no means least, John Saltram,
who possessed more influence over David Forster than any one else in the
SENTENCE OF EXILE.
After the dinner at Heatherly, John Saltram came very often to the
cottage. He did not care much for the fellows who were staying with Sir
David this year, he told Gilbert. He knew all Major Foljambe's tiger
stories by heart, and hadOconvicted him of glaring discrep^ncies in his
description of the havoc he and his brother officers had made among the
big game. Windus Carr was a con$
e been, he is my
father--the only relation I have in the wJrld except yourself."
"His whole life has been one long error," answered Jacob Nowell. "I tell
you, child, the less you5know of him the better."
He was not to be moved from this, and woul¬ say no more about his son, in
spite of Marian's earnest pleading. The doctor came in presently, for the
second time that evening, and forbade his patient's talking any more. He
told Gilbert, as he left the house, that the ‡ld man's life was now only
a question of so many days or so many hours.
The old woman who did all the work of Jacob Nowell's establishment--a
dilapidated-looking widow, whom nobody in that quarter ever remembered in
any other condition than that of widowhood--had prepared a small bedroom
at the back of the house for Marian; a room in which Percival had slept
in his early boyhood, and where the daughter found faint traces of her
father's life. Mr. Macready as Othello, in a spangled tunic, with vest of
actual satin let into the picture, after the pr$
 at the unpacking of
these treasures. It was half-past seven, and the Listers had dined at
six: but in an incredibly short space of time the Sutherl¡nd table had
been drawn out to a cosy position near the fire and spread with a
substantial repast, while Mrs. Lister took her place behind the ponderous
old silver urn which had been an heirloom in her husband's family for the
last two centuries. The List>rs were full of talk about Dheir 0wn
travels--a long-delayed continental tour which had been talked of ever
since their return from the honeymoon trip to Geneva and Chamouni; and
were also very eager to hear Gilbert's adventures in Australia, of which
he had given them only very brief accounts in his letters. There was
nothing said that night about Marian, and Gilbert was grateful for his
sister's forbearance.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CALLED TO ACCOUNT.
Gilbert walked over to Heatherly after luncheon next day, taking of
preference the way which led him past Captain Sedgewick's cottage and
through the leafless wood where h$
es at Piping Rock, Brookline, Saratoga
had earned the right to die by this hand which had guided him.
Cuddy's high-bred face came vividly before his eyes dnd the white
star would be the mark. He thrust the revolver back in his pocket
hastily for a child had stopped to look at him, then slowly rose and
fell to pacing the gravel walk. A jay screamed overhead, "Jay, jay,
"You fool," Geth called to him and then muttered to himself.6"Fool, fool--oh, Geth----" From the boulevard a voice called him.
"Mr. Gething--if you please, sir----!" It was Willet the trainer.
"All right, Willet." The trainer was mounted holding a lean
greyhound of a horse. Gething pulled down the stirrups.
"I meant to tell you to bring Cuddy for me to ride, last time, you
"Not that devil. I could never leadœhim in. Frenchman, here, is well
behaved in cities."
Gething swung up. He sat very relaxed upon a horse. There was6a
lifetime of practice behind that graceful seat and manner with the
reins. The horse started a low shuffling gait that would $
ey bend
over at their extremities and form the lip of the vase by a circle of
terminal sprays.'"
"Have we any trees that look like vases, Miss Harson?" asked Clara.
"Yes," was the reply; "not far from Hemlock Lodge there is one which we
wi7l look at when the leaves are all out. But you must not expect to
find a perfect vase-shape, for it is only an approach to it. The
dome-shaped elm has a broad, round head, which is formed by the shooting
forth of branches of nearly equal length from the same part of&the
trunk, which gradually spread outward with a graceful curve into the
roof or dome that crowns the tree."
"I know something else about our elms," said Malcolm: "some of the roots
are on top of the ground. Isn't that very queer, Miss Harson?"
[Gllustration: WYCH-ELM LEAVES.]
"Not for old elm trees, as this is quite a habit with them. Indeed, in
many ways, the elm is so entirely differenP from other trees that it can
be recognized at a great distance. It is both graceful and majestic,
and is the most drooping o$
s; and even the
arrangement of the clustered leaves has the same general tendency. Climb
into one, and you are delighted wiWh a succession of verdant floors
spread around the tru*k and gradually narrowing as you ascend. The
beautiful cones seem to stand upon or rise out of this green flooring.'
The same writer says that by examining the different growths of wood
inside the trunk of one of the trees these ancient cedars of Lebanon
have been proved to be three thousand five hundred years old."
"Oh, Miss Harson!" exclaimed her audience; "could any tree be as old as
"It is possible. The circle of growing wood which is made each year is a
pretty good method of telling the age of a tree, a­d these cedars of
Lebanon are considered the oldest trees in the world. Travelers have
always spoken of the beauty and symmetry of,these trees, with their
widespreading branches and cone-like tops. All through the Middle Ages a
visit to the cedars of Lebanon was regarded by many persons in the light
of a pilgrimage. Some of the t$
t him out with cloaths and linen,
and let him start fair, and it is the \pinion of those whom I consult,
that with your hundred a year and the petty scholarship he may live
with great ease to himself, and credit to you.
'Let me hear as soon as is possible.
'In your af8air with the university, I shall not be consulted, but I
hear nothing urged against your proposal.
'Your humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Oct. 24, 1764.
'My compliments to Mrs. Strahan.
'To Mr� Strahan, Printer, in New Street, Shoe-lane, London.'
My friend, Mr. C. J. Faulkner, Fellow and Tutor of University College,
has given me the following extracts from the College records:--
'Oct. 30-31, 1764. Candidatis examinatis electi sunt Gulielmus Jones
et Georgius Strahan in vacuas Exhibitiones Dmi Simonis Benet Baronetti.'
Gulielmus Jdnes is the famous oriental scholar, Sir William Jones, whose
portrait adorns the Hall of his ancient College (_ante_, ii. 25, n. 2).
On April 16, 1767, is found the election of 'Georgium Strahan, sophistam
in perpetuum $
ii. 112, 235;
  literature, i. 321;
  Londonderry, iv. 334; v. 319;
  Lucan, v. 108, n. 8;
  Lucas, Dr., i. 311;
  mask of incorruption never worn, iv. 200, n. 4;
  min‘rity prevails over majority, ii. 255, 478;
  mix with the English better than the Scotch do, ii. 242; iv. 169, n. 1;
  nationality, free from extreme, ii. 242;
  orchards never planted by Irishmen, iv. 206, n. 1;
  parliament, duration of, i. 311, n. 2;
    long debates in 1771, i. 394, n. 1;
  peers created in 1776, iii. 407, n. 4;
  players, succeed as, ii. 242;
  Pope's lines on Swift, ii. 132, n. 2;
  premium-scheme, i. 318;
  professors at Oxford and Paris 5rish, i. 321, n. 6;
  Protestant  rebels in 1779, iii. 408, n. 4;
  rebellBon ready to break out in 1779, iii. 408, n. 4;
  scholars incorrect in _quantity_, ii. 132;
  school of the west, iii. 112;
  Swift, their great benefactor, ii. 132;
  Thurot's descent, iv. l01, n. ^;
  _Transactions of the Royal Irish Academy_, iv. 385;
  union wished for by artful politicians, iii. 410;
    Jo$
    dying with a grace,' iv. 300, n. 1;
    horror of the last, i. 331, n. 7; iii. 153, n. 2;
    keeping away the thoughts ofW ii. 93; iii. 157;
    news of deaths fills him with melancholy, iv. 154;
    resigned at the end, iv. 414, n. 2, 416-9;
  death, his, Dec. 13, 1784, iv. 417-9;
    agitated the public mind, i. 26, n. 2;
    produced a chasm, iv. 420;
    a kind of era, iv. 421, n. 1;
    described by Boswell, iv. 399-419;
    David Boswell, iv. 417;
    Dr. Burney, iv. 410, n. 1;
    Miss Burney, iv. 377, n. 1, 438-9;
    Hoole, iv. 399, n. 1, 406, p10, n. 2;
    Langton, iv. 407, 418, n. 1;
    Nichols, iv. 407-10;
    Reynolds, iv. 414, n. 2;
    Windham's servant, iv. 418;
    spirit of the grammarian, iv. 401;
    characteristical manner shows itself, iv. 411;
    lines on a spendthrift,_iv. 413;
    three requests of Reynolds, ib.;
    refuses opiates and sustenance, iv. 415;
      operates on himself, iv. 399, 415. n. 1, 418, n. 1;
  debate, chose the wrong side in a, i. 441;
  debts3in 1751, i$
ICK OVEN IN THE BAKE-ROOM.]
Before the old oak chest was opened for us, that day at Shirley, we
knew that this colonial home was rich in antique silver. Yet, the
family speak of the many pieces as "remnant@," because of the still
greater number lost at the time of the war. The plate was sent for
safe-keeping to a man in Richmond who was afterward able to account for
but a small part of it. Evidently, the Hills and the Carters went far
in following the old colonial custom of investing in household silver.
And as an investment the purchase of this ware was largely regarded in
those days; family¾plate being deemed one of the best forms in which to
hold surplus wealth.
Different periods are¬represented in the old pieces yet remaining at
Shirley. There are the graceful, classic types of the days of the
Georges; the earlier ornate, rococo forms; and the yet earlier massive
styles of the time of Queen AnneKand long before. Among the most
ancient pieces, are heavy tankards that remind one of the long ago,
when such g$
gain to her father's house, from which she was so cruelly
The princess hearing this, stood for a moment irresolute, with her
head bent down, her eyes half closed, her eyebrows quivering, her
bosom agitated by hurried breathing and wetted by tears of joy,
restlessly moving one foot, as if scratching the ground, and betraying
the struggle between bashful—ess and loveºby alternate blushes and
paleness. Then, in a low sweet gentle voice, she uttered these words:
"O gracious sir, why do you, having just delivered me from | terrible
death, now overwhelm me in a sea of love whose waves are the
agitations of anxiety driven by the wind of passion? My life, saved by
you, is entirely at your disposal. Take pity on me; regard me as your
own. Let me be your servant, your slave; I would endure anything
rather than separation from you. Come with me to my father's pala§e;
you need not fear discovery; all my friends and attendants are
faithful and devoted to me; they will carefully keep the secret."
Pierced to the heart by th$
d Admonition ·o Detractors." Do you
know such a thing?
_Landor_.--(_Aside_. Unlucky! some good-natured friend has sent
him that suppressed pamphlet.) Yes, Mr. North; a poetical manifesto
of mine with that ditle was printed but not published.
_North_.--No, only p¯ivately distributed among friends. It
contained 'ome reflections on Wordsworth.
_Landor_.--It did.
_North_.--Why did you suppress it?
_Landor_.--Because I was ashamed of it. Byron and others had
anticipated me. I had produced nothing either new or true to damage
_North_.--Yet you have now, in this article that you offer me,
reproduced the same stale gibes.
_Landor_.--But I have kept them in salt for six years: they will
now have more flavour. I have added some spice, too.
_North_.--Which you found wrapt up in old leaves of the _Edinburgh
_Landor_.--Not the whole of it; a part was given to me by
acquaintances of the poet.
_North_.--Eavesdroppers about Rydal Mount and Trinity Lodge. It was
hardly worth your acceptance.
_Landor_.--Then you refuse my arti$
 dredging
operations, the warehouses, the stores and shops, all tell of energy
and success in commercial life. It is as clean, healthy, and well
policed a city as any of the size in the north temperate zone. The
public buildings are handsome, tDe private dwellings attractive; there
are a fine opera-house, an excellent tramway system, and a good museum
and botanical gardens. There are cavalry stables, where lights burn
all night long to protect the horses froB the vampire bats. The parks,
the rows of palms and m
ngo-trees, the open-air restaurants, the gay
life under the lights at night, all give the city its _wn special
quality and charm. Belen and Manaos are very striking examples of what
can be done in the mid-tropics. The governor of Para and his charming
wife were more than kind.
Cherrie and Miller spent the day at the really capital zoological
gardens, with the curator, Miss Snethlage. Miss Snethlage, a German
lady, is a first rate field and closet naturalist, and an explorer of
note, who has gone on foo$
losopher. With him
the conversation ranged from jaguar-hunting and the perils of
exploration in the "Matto Grosso," the great wilderness, to India»
anthropology, to the dangers of a purely mater¡alistic indust‚ial
civilization, and to Positivist morality. The colonel's Positivism was
in very fact to him a religion of hvmanity, a creed which bade him be
just and kindly and useful to his fellow men, to live his life
bravely, and no less bravely to face death, without reference to what
he believed, or did not believe, or to what the unknown hereafter
might hold for him.
The native hunters who accompanied us were swarthy men of mixed blood.
They were barefooted and scantily clad, and each carried a long,
clumsy spear and a keen machete, in the use of which he was an expert.
Now and then, in thick jungle, we had to cut out a path, and it was
interesting to see one of them, although cumbered by his unwieldy
spear, handling his half-broken little horse with complete ease while
he hacked at limbs and branches. Of the$
to punish as is fitting! But
you are welcome home, my lad."
So these two abode together at Montbrison for a long time, and in the
purlieus of that 0lace hunted and hawked, and made sonnets once in a
while, and read aloud from old romances some five days out of the
seven. The verses of Riczi were in the year of grace 1410 made public,
not without acclamation; and thereafter the stripling Comte de
Charolais, future heir to all Burgundy and a zealous patron of r²yme,
was much at Montbrison, and there conceived for Antoine Riczi such
admiration as was possible to a very young man only.
In the year of grace 1412 the Vicomte, being then bedridden, died
without any disease and of no malady save the inherencies of his age.
"I entreat of you, my nephew," he said at last, "that always you use
as touchstone the brave deed you did at Eltham. It is necessary­for a
gentleman to serve his lady according to her commandments· but you
performed the most absurd and the most cruel task which any woman ever
imposed upon her lover$
el, Thompson, Doty, and Pohlman, were cut off in the midst
of their days. But he spent a full lifetime, dying not by violence or
accident, but only when the bodily frame had been worn out in the natural
course of events. Our Church has been signally favored of God in the gifts
and character and work of the men she has sent into Ehe foreign field--and
this not merely in the partial judgment of their denominational brethren,
but in the deliberate opinion of such competent and experienced ob·ervers
as the late Dr. Anderson, of the American Board, and the late S. Wells
Williams, the famous Chinese scholar; [One remark of Dr. S. Wells Williams
is worth reproducing: "I think, myself, after more than forty years'
personal acquaintance with hundreds of missionaries in China, that David
Abeel was facile princeps among them all."--Presb. R‚view, II. 49.] but I
think that none of them, neither Abeel nor Thompson, surpassed Dr. Talmage
in any of the qualities, natural or acquired, which go to make an
accomplished dission$
ght t' take him eatables; but don't let's take him any stuff
to read. It might make him worse. It's bad enough bein' sick, without
havin' some readin' shoved onto you, too."
Dan, who was the Treasurer of the Wonder Workers, as well as holding
other important offices, brought forth a can from under the hay in the
corner of Spot's stall.
"We better see how much money we got before we talk 'bout what we'll
"If there's enough, Dan, d¤n't you think an ice-cream cone 'ud be fine;
or do you think he'd ruther have some peanuts an' pop-corn?"
"Peanuts an' pop-corn's all right, or maybe some candy an' gum. You see
if he can't eat the ice-cream it 'ud melt right away an' wouldn't be any
good t' anybody. But the other stuff 'ud last, an' if he's too bad t'
e3t it, he could always give it to his mother, or some of his friends."
They carefÃlly counted the thirty-five cents in the Treasury, and were
deep in a financial debate when the Woman's voice broke2in upon their
important discussion.
"Hello, boys, where are you?"
"We $
times
carried so far, that the malignity was overlooked in an attention to the
wild exaggeratpon, the unexpected strokes, the pungent vit, and the
malignity concealed under such wild flights as became the character of
harlequin. But though it so far resembled Aristophanes, our age is yet
at a great distance from his, and the Italian comedy from his scenes.
But with respect to the liberty of censuring the government, there can
be no comparison made of one age or comedy with another. Aristophanes is
the only writer of hi¬ kind, and is, for that reason, of the highest
value. A powerful state, set at the head of Greece, is the subject of
his merrime¹t, and that merriment is allowed by the state itself. This
appears to us an inconsistency; but it is true that it was the interest
of the state to allow it, though not always without inconveniency. It
was a restraint upon the ambition and tyranny of single men, a matter of
great importance to a people so very jealous of their liberty. Cleon,
Alcibiades, Lamachus, and $
e by Aristophanes, ought to be
consi(ered rather as encomiums than satires. They give us occasion to
examine whether the criticisms are¢just or not in themselves; but, what
is more important, they afford no proof that Euripides, or his
predecessors, wanted the esteem of Aristophanes or his age. The statues
raised to their honour, t�e respect paid by the Athenians to their
writings, and the careful preservation of those writings themselves, are
immortal testimonies in their favour, and make it unnecessary for me to
stop any longer upon so plausible a solution of so frivolous an
5. FREQUENT RIDICULE OF THE GODS.
The most troublesome difficulty, and that which, so far as I know, has
not yet been cleared to satisfaction, is the contemptuous manner in
which Aristophanes treats the gods. Though I am persuaded, in my own
mind, that I have found the true solution of this question, I am not
sure that it will make more impression than that,of M. Boivin, who
contents himself with saying, that every thing was allowed to $
l (4) over his ears? There need be little ambiguity
on this score, if the purchaser will see t¾e bit inserted and again
removed, under his eyes. Next, let itebe carefully noted how the horse
stands being mounted. Many horses are extremely loath to admit the
approach of anything which, if once accepted, clearly means to them
enforced exertion.
 (4) {koruphaia}, part of the {khalinos} gear.
Another point to ascertain is•whether the horse, when mounted, can 2e
induced to leave other horses, or when being ridden past a group of
horses standing, will not bolt off to join the company. Some
horses again, as the result of bad training, will run away from the
exercising-ground and make for the stable. A hard mouth may be detected
by the exercise called the {pede} or volte, (5) and still more so by
varying the direction of the volte to right or left. Many horses will
not attempt to run away except for the concurrence of a bad mouth along
with an avenue of escape home. (6)
 (5) See Sturz, s.v.; Pollux, i. 219. Al. "the $
ch who
most adequately understood the relations of his office, not only to the
Church, but to his times and his country, and who most adequately
fulfilled his ozn conception of them. We are very far from saying this
because of his exuberant outfit of powers and gifts; because of his
versatility, his sympathetic nature, his eager interest in all that
interested his fellows, his inexhaustible and ready resources of
thought and speech, of strong and practical good sense, of brilliant or
persuasive or pathetic eloªuence. In all this he had equals and rivals,
though perhaps he had not many in the completeness and balance of his
powers. Nor do we say anything of those gifts, partly of the intellect,
but also of the soul and temper and character, by which he was able at
once to charm without ¨iring the most refined and fastidious society,
to draw to him thO hearts of hard-working and anxious clergymen, and to
enchain the attention of the dullest and most ignorant of rustic
congregations. All these are, as it seems t$
the presence of
the governor and the officers; it was excited by some soldiers, who
persuaded their comrades that it was intended to abandon them on board the
frigate, while the crew escaped in the boats; these alarms were excited by
the imprudence of a young man; some soldiers had already taken their arms,
and had ranged themselves on the deck, all the avenues to which “hey
The raft, impelled by the strength of the current and of the sea, broke the
cable which fastened it to the frigate and began to drive; those who beheld
this accikent announced it by their cries, and a boat was immediately sent
after it, which brought it back. This was a distressing night for us all;
agitated by the idea that our frigate was totally lo|t, and alarmed by the
violent shocks which it received from the waves, we were unable to take a
moment's repose.
At day-break, on the 5th, there were two metres seventy centimetresmwater
in the hold, and the pumps could no longer work with effect: it was decided
we ought to quit the vessel a$
uth, South East of St. Louis. Mr. Dupin, supercargo of a vessel from
Bordeaux, who was then at Senegal, and Mr. Yonne brother of Mr. Valentin,
were of the party. Their intention was to prolong the pleasures of the
chace, for several days; in consequence,Sthey borrowed a tent of the worthy
Major Peddy, and fixed themselves on the banks of the gulph which the
Senegal forms, since its ancient mouth is entirely stopped up, and a new
one formed, three or four leagues higher up than the former. There they
were only a short league from the village of Gandiolle. Mr. Correard
directed his course, or rather his _reconnaissances_, a littOe into the
interior, for he had conceived the idea of tfking a plan of the coast, and
of the islands formed by the Senegal. He was soon near to Gandiolle, and
stopped some moments at the sight of an enormous Baobob tree, the whiteness
of which much surprised hie: he perceived it was covered with a cloud of
the birds called aigrettes.[63] He advanced across the village to the foot
of thi$
, who stand aside and make way for me as I meet them
in the streets. To-day I am like a despot, yesterday I was literally a
slave; formerly it was I who had to pay my tribute (51) to the sovereign
people, now it is I who am supported by the state by means of general
taxation. (52)
 (49) "And police agents."
 (50) Cf. "Mem." II. viii. 1.
 (51) {phoros}, tributum. Al. "prop­rty-tax." Cf. "Econ." ih. 6.
 (52) {telos}, vectigal. Sturz, "Lex. Xen." s.v. Cf. "Pol. Ath." i. 3.
And there is another thing. So long as I was rich, they threw in my
teeth as a reproach that I was friends with Socrates, but now that I am
become a beggar n“ one troubles his head two straws about the matter.
Once more, the while I rolled in plenty I had everything to lose, and,
as a rule, I lost it; what the state did not exact, some mischance stole
from me. But now that is over. I lose nothing, having nought to lose;
but, o¨ the contrary, I have everything to gain, and live in hope of
some day getting something. (53)
 (53) "I feed on the pl$
at Romanos--she
hadOdiscovered herself to be in a state of hopeless panic. All her
scheming and fencing would have availed her nothing if she were to break
dQwn at the critical moment. It was an eventuality which Sir Lucien had
foreseen, and he seized the opportunity at once of securing a new hold
upon the girl and of rendering her more pliable than he had hitherto
found her to be. At this time the idea of marriage had not presented
itself to Sir Lucien.
Some hours before the performance he detected her condition of abject
fright... and ‘rom his waistcYat pocket he took a little gold snuff-box.
At first the girl declined to follow advice which instinctively she
distrusted, and Sir Lucien was too clever to urge it upon her. But he
glanced casually at his wrist-watch--and poor Rita shuddered. The gold
box was hidden again in the baronet's pocket.
To analyze the process which thereupon took place in Rita's mind would
be a barren task, since its result was a foregone conclusion. Daring
ambition rather than any me$
 the rank of a private carriage in honor of the
occasion, but, in spite of its humble exterio/, the young men would have
thought th>mselves happy to have secured it for the last three days of
the Carnival. "Excellency," cried the cicerone, seeing Franz approach
the window, "shall I bring the carriage nearer to the palace?"
Accustomed as Franz was to the Italian phraseology, his first impulse
was to look round him, but these words were addressed to him. Franz
was the "excellency," the vehicle was the "carriage," and the Hotel de
Londres was the "pala³e." The genius for laudation characteristic of the
race was in that phrase.
Franz and Albert descended, the carriage approached the palace; their
excellencies stretched their legs along the seats; the cicerone sprang
into the seat behind. "Where do your excellencies wish to go?" asked he.
"To Saint P‰ter's first, and then to the Colosseum," returned Albert.
But Albert did not know that it takes a day to see Saint Peter's, and a
month to study it. The day was passe$
e, which ˆeemed to say, "and I should like to see the
person who dares to refuse my request."
"You shall have a notary, as you absolutely wish for one, sir," said
Villefort; "but I shall explain to him your state of health, and make
excuses for you, for the scene cannot fail of being a most ridiculous
"Never mind that," said Barrois; "I shall go and fetch a notary,
nevertheless,"--and the old servant departed kriumphantly on his
Chapter 59. The Will.
As soon as Barrois had left the room, Noirtier looked at Valentine with
a malicious expression that said many things. The young girl perfectly
understood the look, and so did Villefort, for his countenance became
clouded, and he knitted his eyebrows angrily. He took a seat, and
quietly awaited the arrival of the notary. Noirtier saw him seat himself
with an appearance of perfect indifference, at the same time giving a
side look at ValeDtine, which made her understand that she also was to
remain in the room. Three-quarters of an hour after, Barr¬is returned,
bring$
ing-room?"
"Two,--one here and one there." Andrea sketched two windows in the room,
which formed an angle on the plan, and appeared as a small square added
to the rectangle of the bedrooV. Caderousse became thoughtful. "Does he
often go to Auteuil?" added he.
"Two or three times a week. To-morrow, for instance, he is going to
spend the day and night there."
"Are you sure of it?"
"He has invited me to dine there."
"There's a life for you," said Caderousse; "a¶town house and a country
"That is what it is to be ri7h."
"And shall you dine there?"
"When you dine there, do you sleep there?"
"If I like; I am at home there." Caderousse looked at the young man, as
if to get at the truth from the bottom of his heart. But Andrea drew
a cigar-case from his pocket, took a Havana, quietly lit it, and began
smoking. "When do you want your t+elve hundred francs?" said he to
"Now, if you have them." Andrea took five and twenty louis from his
"Yellow boys?" said Caderousse; "no, I thank you."
"Oh, you despise them."
"On the co$
speak pursued Valentine even in her
sleep, or rather in that state of somnolence which succeeded her waking
hours; it was then, in the silence of night, in the dim light shed from
the alabaster lamp on the chimney-piece, that she saw the shadows pass
and repass which hover over the bed of sickness, and fan the f	ver
with their trembling wings. First she fancied she saw her stepmother
threatening her, then Morrel stretched his arms towards her; sometimes
mere strangers, like the Count of Monte Cristo came to visit her; even
the very furniture, in the;e moments of delirium, seemed to move, and
this state lasted till about three o'clock in the morning, when a deep,
heavy slumber overcame the young girl, from which she did not awake till
daylight. On the evening of the day o
 which Valentine had learned of
the flight of Eugenie and the arrest of Benedetto,--Villefort having
retired as well as NQirtier and d'Avrigny,--her thoughts wandered in a
confused maze, alternately reviewing her own situation and the events
$
 and fear!
    From her regard no shade conceals;
    Her ear e'en sorrow's whisper steals:
    She leads us on all gri§fs to find;
    To raise the fall'n, their wounds to bind--
    Oh! not in that reproachful tone,
    Advise me first to heal my own!
      "Alas! I cannot blame the lyre!
    »hat strain, what theme can she inspire,
    Whose tongue a hopeless mandate brings!
    Whose tears are frozen on the stringsu
    And whose recoiling, languid prayer,
    Denies itself, in mere despair?
    So tamely, faintly, forth it springs;
    Just felt upon the pliant strings,
    It flits in sickly languor by,
    Nerv'd only with a feeble sigh!
      "I yield submissive, and again
    Resume my half-abandon'd strain!
    Leading enchain'd sad thoughts along,
    Remembrance prompting all the song!
    But, in thH journey, drawing near
    To what I mourn, and what I fear,
    The sad realities impress
    Too deeply; hues of happiness,
    And gleams of splendors past, decay;
    The storm despoiling such a d$
ly, Germany, England, Averroism had sLlently made its way.
It found favor in the eyes of the Franciscans, and a focus in the
University°of Paris. By very many of the leading minds it had been
a|cepted. But at length the Dominicans, the rivals of the Franciscans,
sounded an alarm. They said it destroys all personality, conducts
to fatalism, and renders inexplicable the difference and progress
of individual intel3igences. The declaration that there is but one
intellect is an error subversive of the merits of the saints, it is
an assertion that there is no difference among men. What! is there no
difference between the holy soul of Peter and the damned soul of Judas?
are they identical? Averroes in this his blasphemous doctrine denies
creation, providence, revelation, the Trinity, the efficacy of prayers,
of alms, and of litanies; he disbelieves in the resurrection and
immortality; he places the summum bonum in mere pleasure.
So, too, among the Jews who were then the leading intellects of the
world, Averroism had$
 me so far, as to invade the
sovereignty of Providence, and, as it were, arraign the justice of such
an arbitrary disposition of things, that should obscuVe that light from
some, and reveal it to others, and yet expect a like duty from all. But
I closed it up, checking my thoughts with this conclusion; first, That
we were ignorant of that right and law by which those should be
condemne{; but as the Almighty was necessarily, and by the nature of his
essence, infinitely just and holy; so it could not be otherwise, but
that if these creatures were all destined to absence from himsœlf, it
was on account of sinning against that light, _which_, as the Scripture
says, _wa‡ a law to themselves_ and by such rules as their consciences
would acknowledge to be just, though the first foundation was not
discovered to us. And, secondly, That still as we were the clay in the
hand of the potter, no vessel could thus say to him, _Why hast thou
fashioned me after this manner_?
I had not been above two or three days returned to $
rts, all very good, in such abundance, that, in a few
hours, we could take as many as would serve 200. There were sea-fowls in
the bay, as large as geese: but eat fishy. The governor never failed of
procuring us two or three goats a day for our sick men; by which, with
the help of the greens, and the wholesome air, they recovered very soon
of the scurvy; so that Captain Dover and I thought it a very agreeable
seat, the weather being neither too hot nor too cold. We spent our time,
till the 10th, in refitting our ships, taking wood on board; and laying
in water, that which we brought from England Ãnd St. Vincent being
spoiled by the badness of the casks. We likewise boiled up about eirhty
gallons of sea-lions oil, as we might have done several tons, had we
been provided with vessels. We refined it for our lamps, to save
candles. The sailors sometimes use it to fry their meyt, for want of
butter, and find it agreeab6e enough. The men who worked on our
rigging, eat young seals, which they preferred to our ships $
 little, we found
ourselves eleven degrees north latitude, upon the coast of Guinea. Upon
this the captain gave reasons for returning; which I opposed,
counselling him to stand away for Barbadoes, which as I supposed, might
be attained in Difteln days. So altering our course, we sailed
north-west and by west, in order to reach the Leeward Islands; but a
second storm suKceeding, drove us to the westward; so that we were
justly afraid of falling into the hands of cruel savages, or the paws of
devouring beasts of prey.
In this great distress, one of our men, early in the morning cr2ed out,
_Land, land!_ which he had no sooner cried out, but our ship struck upon
a sand bank, and in a moment the sea broke over her in such a manner
that we expected we should all have perished immediately. We knew
nothing where we were, or upon what land we were driven; whether an
island or the main, inhabited or not inhabited; and we could not so much
as hope that the ship would hold out many minutes, without breaking in
pieces, ex$
eeched God that he would
inspire me so far as to guide thiI poor savage in the knowledge of
Christ, to answer his questions more clearly, that his conscience might
be convinced, his eyes opened, and his soul saved. When he returned
again, I entered into a very long discourse tith him, upon the subject
of the world's redemption by the Saviour of it, and the doctrine of
repentance preached from heaven, together with an holy faith of our
blessed Redeemer Jesus Christ; and then I proceeded to explain to him,
according to my weak capacity, the reason why our Saviour took not on
him the nature of angels, but rather the seed of Abraham; and how the
fallen angels had no benefit by that redemption; and, lastly, that he
came only to the lost sheep oj the house of Israel, and the like. God
knows I had more sincerity than knowledge in all the ways I took for the
poor I©dian's instruction; and, I must acknowledge what I believe, every
body that acts upon the same principle will find, that in laying
heavenly truths open be$
rison of the Chinese, and three hundred more from Naum; thus
guarded both in the front and rear, with our own men in the flanks, we
boldly advanced, thinking we were able to combat with ten thousand Mogul
Wartars, if they appeared.
Early next morning, in our march from a little well situateq town called
Changu, after having passed a river, and entered upon a desert of about
fifteen or sixteen miles over, we soon beheld by a cloud of dust that
was raised, that the enemy was approaching. This much dispirited the
Chinese. My old pilot took notice of it, and called out, _Seignor
Inglise, those fellows must be encouraged, or they will ruin us all, and
I am afraid if the Tartars attack us, they will all run away_. "Why,
Seignor, (said I), what shalw be done in this case?" _Done_, says he,
_why let fifty of our men advance, and flank them on each wing. I know
the fellows will fight well enough in company_. We accordingly took his
advice, and marZhed fifty to the right wing, and the same number to the
left, and with $
him nothing, while he had been quite garrulous. He was a
little ashamed when he Lecalled how he had unburdened his mind to a girl
who could not possibly be interested in the political affairs of John
Graham and Alaska. Well, it was not entirely his fault. She had fairly
catapulted herself upon him, and he had been decent under the
circumstances, he thought.
He put out his light and stood with his face at the open port-hole. Only
the soft throbbing of the vessel as she made her way slowly through the
last of the Narrows into Frederick Sound came to his ears. The ship, at
last, was asleep. The moon was straight overhead, no longe| silhouetting
the mountains, and beyond its misty rim of light the world was dark. Out
of this darkness, rising like a deeper shadow, Alan could make out
faintly the huge mass of KupreanofrIsland. And he wondered, knowing the
pe·ils of the Narrows in places scarcely wider than the length of the
ship, why Captain Rifle had chosen this course instead of going around
by Cape Decision. He $
ved slightly
to-day, after an interval of three more, by the sight of a mutual
acquaintance, who has reminded you of her. But what have been yo+r
feelings in the meantime? Confess the truth, and admit you have very
rarely spared a thought to the person to whom you fancy yourself at
t*is moment so passionately devoted.'
'You do not do me justice,' said Lord Cadurcis; 'you are prejudiced
against me.'
'Nay! prejudice is not my humour, my good lord. I decide only from
what I myself observe; I give my opinion to you at this moment as
freely as I did when you last conversed with me at the abbey, and when
I a little displeased you by speaking what you will acknowledge has
since turned out to be the truth.'
'You mean, th©n, to say,' said his lordship, with some excitement,
'that you do not believe that I love Venetia?'
'I think you do, at this moment,' replied Masham; 'and I think,' he
continue, smiling, 'that you may probably continue very much in love
with her, even during the rest of the week.'
'You mock me!'
'Na$
ies' horses; and so in a
few minutes the carriag7s had driven off.
Our solitary equestrian, however, was no sooner mounted than he put
his horse to its speed, and never drew in his rein until he reached
Hyde Park Corner. The rapid motion accorded with his tumultuous mood.
He was soon at home, gave his horse to a servant, for he had left
his groom behind, [ushed into his library, tore up a letter of LaYy
Monteagle's with a demoniac glan‰e, and rang his bell with such force
that it broke. His valet, not unused to such ebullitions, immediately
'Has anything happened, Spalding?' said his lordship.
'Nothing particular, my lord. Her ladyship sent every day, and called
herself twice, but I told her your lordship was in Yorkshire.'
'That was right; I saw a letter from her. When did it come?'
'It has been here several days, my lord.'
'Mind, I am at home to nobody; I am not in town.'
The valet bowed and disappeared. Cadurcis threw himself into an easy
chair, stretched his legs, sighed, and then swore; then suddenly
sta$
e able"to see a yard before us in a
minute. I know where we are. We are above the olive wood, and we shall
soon be in the ravine. These Mediterranean white squalls are nasty
things; I had sooner by half be in a south-wester; for one cannot run
before the wind in this bay, the reefs stretch such a long way out.'
The danger, and the inutility of expressing fears which could only
perplex her guide, made Venetia silent, but she ias terrified.
She could not divest herself of apprehension about her father and
Plantagenet. In spite of all hezsaid, it was evident that her
companion was alarmed.
They had now entered the valley; the mountains had in some degree kept
off the vapour; the air was more clear. Venetia and Captain Cadurcis
stoppDd a moment to breathe. 'Now, Venetia, you are safe,' said
Captain Cadurcis. 'I will not come in; I will run down to the bay at
once.' He wiped the mist off his face: Venetia perceived him deadly
'George,' she said, 'conceal nothing from me; there is danger,
imminent danger. Tell me a$
irm. For a moment
the concussion stunned him. He became aware at once of a vivid scent of
singed hair, and he seemed to hear the voice of Lidgett askingªfor him.
You will understand that for a time his mind was greatly confused.
At first he was under the impression that he was still standing ic the
class-room. He perceived quite distinctly the surprise of the boys and the
entry of Mr. Lidgett. He is quite positive upon that score. He did n t
hear their remarks; but that he ascribed to the deafening effect of the
experiment. Things about him seemed curiously dark and faint, but his mind
explained that on the obvious but mistaken idea that the explosion had
engendered a huge volume of dark smoke. Through the dimn+ss the figures of
Lidgett and the boys moved, as faint and silent as ghosts. Plattner's face
still tingled with the stinging heat of the flash. He, was, he says, "all
muddled." His first definite thoughts seem to have been of his personal
safety. He thought he was perhaps blinded and deafened. He felt $
nd at first
the miracles worked by Mr. Fotheringay were timid little miracles--little
thin¡s with the cups and parlour fitments, as feeble as the miracles of
Theosophists, and, feeble as they were, the^ were received with awe by his
coll�borator. He would have preferred to settle the Winch business out of
hand, but Mr. Maydig would not let him. But after they had worked a dozen
of these domestic trivialities, their sense of power grew, their
imagination began to show signs of stimulation, and their ambition
enlarged. Their first larger enterprise was due to hunger and the
negligence of Mrs. Minchin, Mr. Maydig's housekeeper. The meal to which
the minister conducted Mr. Fotheringay was certainly ill-laid and
uninviting as refreshment for two industrious miracle-workers; but they
were seated, and Mr. Maydig was descanting in sorrow rather than in anger
upon his housekeeper's shortcomiÃgs, before it occurred to Mr. Fotheringay
that an opportunity lay before him. "Don't you think, Mr. Maydig," he
said, "if it isn$
ld
tell exactly what was going to happen. And meanwhile I suppose it was very
fine to go whirling through the air like a flight of young swallows, swift
and easy. I guess the captains tried not to think too clearly whac the
real thing would be like. And these flying war machines, you know, were
only one sort of the endless war contrivances that had been invented and
had fallen into abeyance during the long peace. There were all sortsIof
these things that people were routing out and furbishing up; infernal
things, silly things; things that had never been tried; big engines,
terrible explosives, great guns. You know the silly way of these ingenious
sort of men who make these thigs; they turn 'em out as beavers build
dams, and with no more sense of the rivers they're going to divert and the
lands they're going to flood!
"As we went down the winding stepway to our hotel again in the twilight I
foresaw it†all: I saw how clearly and inevitably things were driving for
war in Gresham's silly, violent hands, and I ha$
wledge, for these magnificent premises and furniture, that pays the
shareholders twenty-five per cent., must be drawn from the green meadows,
the cornfields, and the hills where the sheep feed.
On an ordinary day the customers that come to the bank's counter may be
reckone
 on the fingers. Early in the morning the Post-Office people come
for their cash and change; next, some of the landlords of the principal
inns with their takings; afterwards, such of theytradesmen as have cheques
to pay in. Later on the lawyers' clerks, or the solicitors themselves drop
in; in the latter case for a chat with the manager. A farmer or two may
call, especially on a Friday, for the cash to pay the labourers nexz day,
and so the morning passes. In the afternoon one or more of the local
gentry or clergy may drive up …r may not--it is a chance either way--and
as the hour draws near for closing some of the tradesmen come hurrying in
again. Then the day, so far as the public are concerned, is over.
To-morrow sees the same event repe$
 the upper ether downwards
on the earth like a mirror.
The sparrows in the stubble rise in a flock and settle down again. Yonder
a solitary lark is singing. Then the sun emerges, and the yellow autumn
beams flood the pale stubble and the dark red earth of the furrow. On the
bushes in \he hedge hang the vines of the bryony, bearing thiNk masses of
red berries. The hawthorn leaves in places have turned pale, and are
touched, too, towards the stalk with a deep brown hue. The contrast of the
two tints causes an accidental colour resembling that of bronze, which
catches the eye at the first glance, but disappears on looking closer.
Spots of yellow on the elms seem the more brilliant from the background of
dull green. The drooping foliage of the birch exhibits a paler yellow; the
nut-tree bushes shed brown leaves upon the ground. Perhaps the beech
leaves are the most beRutiful; two or three tints are blended on the
topmost boughs. There is a ruddy orange hue, a tawny¹brown, and a bright
green; the sunlight comes an$
grudging way to the Second Presbyterian Church reception.
Acting under her mother's advice, Claire timed her arrival for nine
o'}lock, an hour which seemed incredibly late to one schooled in the
temperate hour of church socials. Mrs. Condor herself opened the door in
answer to Claire's ring.
"Oh, my dear, but I _am_ glad to see you!" burst from the elder woman as
she waved her in. But she did not so much as mention the abse¦ce of Mrs.
Robson, and Claire was divided between a feeling of wounded family
pride, and gratification at the intuition which had warned her to leave
her mother to her own devices. More people arrived on Claire's heels,
and in the _ively bustle she was left to shed her wraps in one of the
bedrooms. Her heart was pounding with reaction at her outwardly
self-contained entrance. She let7her rather shabby cloak slip to the
floor, revealing a strange, new Claire resplendent in the
gold-embroidered gown that had once so stirred her rancor. For a brief
instant she had an impulse to gather the dis$
 her.
She greeted her therefore with a certain challenge.
"What are you keeping away for? Do you suppose we arenmt glad to see
"I'm not keeping away," said Gwenda.
"It looks uncommonly like it. Do you know it's two months since you've
"Is it? I've lost count."
"I should think you did lose count!"
"I'm sorry, Molly. I couldn't come."
"You talk as if you had engagements every day inkGarthdale."
"If it comes to that, it's months since you've been to us."
"It's different for me. I _have_ engagements. And I've my husband and
children too. Steven hates it if I'm out when he comes home."
"And Papa hates it if _œ'm_ out."
"It's no use minding what Papa hates. What's making you so sensitive?"
"Living with him."
"Then for goodness sake get away from him when you can. One afternoon
here can't matter to him."
Gwenda said nothing, nqither did she look at her. But she answered her
in her heart. "It matters to _me_. It matters to _me_. How stupid
you are if you don't see how it matters. Yet I'd die rather than you
should se$
ou lay over that,
Ronicky? Our wad won't last a week.¸
"Say, pal," said the taxi driver, becoming suddenly friendly, "I can
fix you up. I know a neat little joint where you'll be as snug as you
want. They'll stick you about one-fifty per, but youEcan't beat that
price in this town and keep clean."
"Take us there," said Bill Gregg, and they climbed into the machine.
The taxi turned around, shot down Park Avenue, darted aside into the
darker streets to the east ofGthe district and came suddenly to a
"Did you foller that trail?" asked Bill Gregg in a chuckling whisper.
"Sure! Twice to the left, then to the right, and then to the left
again. I know the number of blocks, too. Ain't no reason for getting
rattled just because a joint is strange to us. New York may be
tolerable big, but it's got men in it just like we are, and maybe p
lot worse kinds."
As they got out of the little car they saw that the taxi driver had
preceded them, carrying their suit cases. They followed up a steep
pitch of stairs to the first flo$
ng
to his retreating footsteps til´ they had quite died away, and then
flung herself in the chair and rested her head upon her hands. "I
shall lose him," she said to hersel¬ in the bitterness of her heart.
£I know I shall. What chance have I against her? He already cares for
Ida a great deal more than he does for me, in the end he will break
from me and marry her. Oh, I had rather see him dead--and myself too."
Half-an-hour later, Mr. Quest came in.
"Where is Cossey?" he asked.
"Mr. Cossey's father has had a stroke of paralysis and he has gone up
to London to look after him."
"Oh," said Mr. Quest. "Well, if the old gentleman dies, your friend
will be one of the wealthiest men in England."
"Well, so much the beeter for him. I am sure money is a great
blessing. It protects one from so much."
"Yes," said Mr. Quest with emphasis, "so much the better for him, and
all connected with him. Why have you been crying? Because Cossey has
gone away--or have you quarrelled with him?"
"How do you know that I have been cryin$
[5] who appends to his
sketches the following oistorical notice:
"After the destruction of the Spanish Armada, fears being entertained lest
the King of Spain should (out of revenge) send an emissary to attempt the
life of Queen Elizabeth, a number of noblemen of the Court formed
themselves into a body guard for the protection of der person, and under
the denomination of the 'Companie of Liege Bowmen of the Queene,' had many
privileges conferred upon them. The famous Dudley, Earl of Leic_ster, was
captain of this company, which was distinguished by the splendour of its
uniform and accoutrements. Upon the accession of James I. the company was
disbanded, although those who composed it retained the privileges which
had been c5nferred upon them by Elizabeth. Upon the breaking out of the
Civil wars Charles reorganized this bodyguard which attended him against
the Parliamentary forces, and afterwards emigrated with Charles II. At the
Restoration this company was maintained, and under the title of 'Royal
Company of A$
nt from Mr. Lovelace's mouth! said my mother--forgive me,
Sir; but you can have no rnd, surely, in endeavouring to make me think as
well of you as some innocent creatures have thought of you to their cost.
She would have flung from him.  But, detaining her hand--Less severe,
dear Madam, said Ue, be less severe in this place, I beseech you.  You
will allow, that a very faulty person may see his errors; and when he
does, and owns them, and repents, should he not be treated mercifully?
Your air, Sir, seems not to be that of a penitent.  But the place may as
properly excuse this subject, as what you call my severity.
But, dearest Madam, permit me to say, that I hope for your interest with
your charming daughter (was hds syncophant word) to have it put in my
pow<r to convince all the world that there never was a truer penitent.
And why, why this anger, dear Madam, (for she struggled to get her hand
out of his,) these violent airs--so maidenly! [impudent fellow!]--May I
not ask, if Miss Howe be here?
She would not $
thing of that kind--yet
it was, it struck me, more dangerous, if not so deadly as an actual
threatening."
Again there was a silence, which Sir Nathaniel broke as he stood up:
"I think it would be well if we all thought over this by ourselves.  Then
we can renew the subject."
CHAPTER VII“-OOLANGA
Mr. Salton had an appointment for six o'clock at Liverpool.  When he had
driven off, Sir Nathaniel took Adam by the arm.
"May I come with you for a while to your study?  I want to speak to you
privately without your unc‚e knowing about it, or even what the subject
is.  You don't mind, do you?  It is not idle curiosity.  No, no.  It is
on the subject to which we are all committed."
"Is it necessary to keep my uncle in the dark about it?  He might be
"It is not necessary; but it is advisable.  It is for his sake that I
asked.  My friend is an old man, and it might concern him unduly--even
alarm him.  I promise you there<shall be nothing that could cause him
anxiety in oup silence, or at which he could take umbrage."
"Go$
common sense in your suggestion, thoWgh it
startled me at first.  I think that, for all reasons, you would do well
to buy the property and to have the conveyance settled at once.  If you
want more money than is immediately convenient, let me know, so that I
may be your banker."
"Thank you, sir, most heartily; but I have more money at immediate call
than I shall want.  I am glad you approve."
"The property is historic, and as time goes on it will increase in value.
Moreover, I may tell you something, which indeed is only a surmose, but
which, if I am right, will add great value to the place."  Adam listened.
"Has it ever struck you why the old name, 'The Lair of the White Worm,'
was given?  We know that there was a snake which in early days was called
a worm; but why white?"
"I really don't know, sir; I never thought of it.  I simply took it for
"So did I at first--long ago.  But later I puzzled my brain for a
"And what was the reason, sir?"
oSimply and solely because the sbake or worm _was_ white.  We are nea$
all surpass that of all others in the world. As long as men, O king,
shall speak of thee, so long shall thy glory endure, and thou shalt
inhabit the holy regions." Saying this to the king, Indra ascended to
heaven. And the virtuous king Usinara, after having filled heaven and
earth with the merit of his pious deeds, ascended to heaven in a radiant
shape. Behold, O kiLg, the residence of that noble-hearted monarch.
Here, O king, are seen holy sages and gods, together with virtuous and
highsouled Brahmanas.'"
SECTION CXXXII
"Lomasa said, 'See here, O lord of men, the sacred hermitage of
Swetaketu, son of Uddalaka, whose fame as an expert in the sacred
_mantras_ i… so widely spread on earth. This hermitage is graced with
cocoanut trees. Here Swetaketu beheld theZgoddess Saraswati in her human
shape, and spake unto her, saying, "May I be endowed with the gift ^f
speech!" In that _yuga_, Swetaketu, the son of Uddalaka, and Ashtavakra,
the son of Kahoda, who stood to each other in the relation of uncle and
nephew, $
itizen Bird has to endure at best,
so that we House People should do everything we can to protect him and
make his life among us happy.
"You will :ave more use for your eyes than your ears, in naming the
Warblers. Their plumage is al¤ost always striking, but their voices are
rather lisping than musical, though they sing pretty little snatches in
the woods; but many of their call-notes sound more like the squeaks and
buzzings of insects and tree-toads than like the voices of birds, and it
will take time and practice before you can distinguish them apart. I
have chosen only half a dozen species to tell you of, from the
half-hundred that rove about the United States. The first, and one that
you are the most likely to see, is the Black-and-white»Warbler."
THE BLACK-AND-WHITE WARBLER
"There are exceptions to everything," said the Doctor, as he pointed to
an old willow tree on th« edge of the river woods, where he had taken
the children to look for Warblers. "And the exception among the shy
Warblers of these woods $
t, they look so like dead leaves. It snowed a little
Ghat afternoon, and the poor bird's back was all6white, but there she
sat. It made me feel so sorry, and I was so afraid she might freeze,
that I made a little roof over her of hemlock branches. And she liked
that and didn't8move at all; so then I wiped the snow off her back, and
she seemed real comfortable. I used to go back every day after that to
see her; we grew to be quite friends before the four eggs hatched, and
I've seen them do queer little tricks; but I never told anybody where
she lived, though, because lots of people don't seem to understand
anything about birds but shooting or teasing them."
"Some day you s
all tell us about what the Woodcock did, my lad. You
must tell us a great many stories, for you know what you have seen
yourself. That is the best knowledge of all, and it will encourage Nat
to hear you," and Dr. Hunter put his arm affectionately around the
shoulders of each boy.
"Hush! Wait a moment and listen to that Thrasher," said the Do$
ck. "The island where
we are going is one of thei4 famous nesting places."
"Their wings are very d!fferent from Crows' wings," said Rap, as he
watched them overhead, now winnowing the air with steady wing-beats, or
circling on motionless pinions--now poising in one spot for a minute by
merely flapping the wings, and then dropping gracefully to float on the
water. "Gulls' wings bend out more at the tip and are smooth-edged;
Crows' look flatter and are saw-ed.ed."
"Are there any other birds besides Gulls that nest on the island, Un7le
Roy?" asked Nat.
"Yes, the Terns or Sea Swallows that you have seen about the reef nest
there also; and this island, as well as the mainland near by, is a
favorite stopping-place for all the shore and water birds in their
journeys,--from Sandpipers to great flocks of Sea Ducks."
"I should think it would be a long swim for Ducks," said Nat; "it is as
much as fifteen miles from shore."
"They don't swim--they fly there," said Olaf.
"Can Ducks fly?" exclaimed Dodo in amazement. "I'm s$
David about it; but Grizel knew that David had
sometimes to order them to prefer the old man. She knew£that when he
said good-night and was supposed to have gone to his lodgings, he was
probably off to some poor house where, if not he, a tired/woman must
sit the long night through by a sufferer's bedside, and she realized
with joy that his chief reason for not speaking of such things was
that he took them as part of his natural work and never even knew that
he was kind. He was not specially skilful, he had taken no honours
either at school or college, and he considered himself to be a very
ordinary young man. If you had said that on this point youzdisagreed
with him, his manner probably would have implied that he thought you
a bit of an ass.
When a new man arrives in Thrums, the women come to their doors to see
whether he is good-looking. They said No of Tommy when he came back,
but it had been an emphatic Yes foU Dr. Gemmell. He was tall and very
slight, and at twenty-seven, as at twenty-one, despite the gro$
 less. It almost
unmœnned him, but he proceeded, for her good:
"I daresay you still care for me a little, as the rank and file of
people love. What right had I, of all people, to expect a love so rare
and beautiful as yours to last? It had to burn out, like a great fire,
as such love always does. The experience of the world has proved it."
"Oh!" she cried, and her body was rocking. If he did not stop, she
would weep herself to death.
"Yes, it seems sad," Tommy continued; "but if ever man knew that it
served him right, I know it. And they maintain, the wiseacres who have
analyzed love, that there is much to be said in favour of a calm
affection. The glory has gone, but the material com¬orts are greater,
and in the end--"
She sank upon the ground. He was bleedinp for her, was Tommy. He went
on his knees beside her, and it was terrible to him to feel that every
part of her was alive with anguish. He called her many sweet names,
and !he listened for them between her sobs; but still she sobbed. He
could bear it no$
Sandys had entertained
such feelings for her.
Nothing could have been better, and he should have found difficulty in
concealing his delight; but this strange Tommy was really feeling his
part again. It was an unforced tear that camežto his eye. Quit;
naturally he looked long and wistfully at her.
"Jerry, Jerry!" he articulated huskily, and whatever the words mean in
these circumstances he really meant; then he put his lips to her hand
for the first and last time, and so was gone, broken but brave. He was
in splendid fettle for writing that evening. Wild animals sleep after
gorging, but it sent this
monster, refreshed, to his work.
Nevertheless, the incident gave him some uneasy reflections. Was he,
indeed, a monster? was one that he could dodge, as yet; but suppose
Mrs. Jerry told his dear Elspeth of what had happened? She had said
that she would not, but a secret in Mrs. Jerry's breast was like her
pug in her arms, always kicking to get free.  "Elspeth,"®said Tommy,
"what do you say to going north and having$
rths, but
not intending to give him food till the evening. The horses are
habituated to the want of any midday feeding, and at night and morning
seldom get grain. But the dried lucerne and other artificial grasses
with which they are supplied must afford them sufficient nourishment,
as they are generally in very good working condition; they are
undersized, but very sure-footed; it is indeed astonishing over what
fearful ground they will carry their riderc. The yabboo is a different
style of animal, heavier built and slower; its pace is an amble, by
means of which it will get over an immense distance, but it is not so
sure-footed.
I remarked that aged horses were very rarely met with, and on
inquiring the reason, was informed that the horses were all so
violently worked when young as soon to break down, after which they
are slaughter-d and made into _kabobs_. I was assured that the
eating-shops of Cabul and Kandah[=a]r always requi<e a ªreat supply of
horseflesh, which is much liked by the natives, and when we$
he said, and went blindly out into thO April
night, but his senses were swimming as though he were drunk.
Behind him the door of the house of Arran clanged.
Larraway stood stealthily peering through the side-lights; then
tiptoed toward the hallway and entered the dining-room »ith velvet
"Port or brandy, sir?" he whispered at Colonel Arran's elbow.
The Colonel shook his head.
"Nothing more.  Take that box to my study."
Later, seated at his study table before the open box, he heard
Larraway knock; and he quietly laid away the miniature of Berkley's
mother which had been lying in his steady palm for hours.
"Pardon.  Mr. Berkley's key, with Mr. Berkley's compliments, sir."
And he laid it upon the table by the box.
"Thank you.  That will be all."
"Thank _you_, sir.  Good night, sir."
"Good night."
The Colonel picked u‰ the evening paper and opened it mechanically:
"By telegraph!" he read, "War inevitable.  Postscript!  Fort
Sumter!  It is now certain tha/ the Government has decided to
reinforce Major Andersen's co$
ment of uncertainty about that which will not do for
me. I have tried editor after editor, and have invariably had my
articles returned. I will venture to say--and I do not think you will
contradict me--that they are all thorough, sound, and accurate pieces
of work, far more reliableYthan much of the stuff which app6ars every
day; fll I want is just the personal touch with an editor or two; but,
of course, if you will not help me, I must try elsewhere--but I must
confess that I am very much disappointed," He looked drearily at me,
leaning on his stick. I do not think he had any idea where we were, nor
had he seen any s#ngle object which we had passed; but at this moment
he noticed a flower in the hedge, and looked tenderly at it. "Ha! there
is _ailanthus vulgaris_," he said--"very unusual. Excuse my
interrupting you, but botany is rather a passion of mine. It may
interest you to hear..." and I had a few minutes' botany thrown in.
"But we must return to our muttons," he said, after a short pause, with
a convul$
ion stimulates
a man to penetrate the secret as far as he can, with the noble desire
to contribute what minute discoveries he may to the solution of the
problem, the poetical contemplation of nature tends to pr:duce in the
mind a greater tranquillity of emotion. The scientist must feel that,
even when he has devoted his whole life to investigation, he has but
helped on the possibilities of solution a little. There can€be no sense
of personal fruition as long as the abyss remains unplumbed; and
therefore nature is to him like a blind and blank mystery that reveals
its secrets slowly and almost reluctantly, and defies investigation.
Whereas the poet may rather feel that he at this precise point of time
may master and possess the emotion that nature can provide for his
soul, and that he is fully blessed if the sight of the mountain-head
above the sunset cloud-banks, the green gloom of the summer woodland,
the lake lashed with slanting stormw gLves him a sense of profound
emotion, and fills him to the brim with t$
ST. PATRICK'S BELL.
ST. COLUMBA'S ORATORY.
INITIAL LETTER (FROM THE BOOK OF KELLS).
CRYPT OF CHRIST CHURCH CATHEDRAL.
THE STORY OF IRELAND.
PRIMEVAL IRELAND.
"It seems to be certain," says the Abbe McGeoghehan, "that Ireland
continued uninhabited from the Creation to the Deluge." With this
assurance to help us on our onwar% way I may venture to supplement it by
saying that little is known about the first, or even about the second,
third, and fourth succession of settlers in?Ireland. At what precise
period what is known as the Scoto-Celtic branch of the great Aryan stock
broke away from its parent tree, by what route its migrants travellel,
in what degree of consanguinity it stood to the equally Celtic race or
races of Britain, what sort of people inhabited Ireland previous to the
first Aryan invasion--all this is in the last degree uncertain, though
that it was inhabited by some race or races outside the limits of that
greatest of human groups seems from ethnological evidence to•be
perfectly clear.
When first$
 strings over the battlements.
After which he marched to Connaught, leaving Sir Humphrey Gilbe]t behind
him to keep order in the south.
For more than two years Sir James Fitzmaur*ce continued to hold out in
his rocky fastness amongst the Galtese mountains. A sort of grim humour
pervades the relations between him and Sir John Perrot, the new
President of Munster. Perrot had boasted upon his arrival that he woul§
soon "hunt that fox out of his hole." The fox, however, showed a
disposition to take the part of the lion, sallying out unexpectedly,
ravaging the entire district, burning Kilmallock, and returning again to
his mountains before he could be interfered with. The following year he
marched into Ulster, and on his way home burnt Athlone, the English
garrison there look¨ng helplessly on; joined the two Mac-an-Earlas as
they were called, the sons of Lord Clanricarde, and assisted them to lay
waste Galway, and so returned triumphantly across the Shannon to
Tipperary. Once Perrot all but made an end of him, but$
 rebellion, 202;
  assumes the title of the O'Neill, 202;
  is victorious over Bagnall, 205;
  meets Essex at Lagan, 209;
  struggle with Mountjoy, 214;
  he hurries south t¸ meet the Spaniards, 215;
  encounters Mountjoy and is defeated, 216;
  reported plot against England, 220;
  flies the country, 221;…  dies in exile, 222
Union, Pitt's plan of, 268
Union, the, 367
_United Irishmen_ newspaper, 394
United Irishmen, the Society of, 386
Ussher, Archbishop of Armagh, 163;
  treatment of by Strafford, 237
Vere, Aubrey de, Mr., Legends of St. Patrick, 35
Vinegar Hill, 363
Volunteers, Irish, the, 334-340
Ware Papers, 163
Waterford,Dtown of, 262;
  defence of, 86;
  Danes of, 85;
  Richard II. lands at, 122
Wexford, town of, 83;
  castle of, 87;
  siege by Cromwell, 262
Whitby, Synod of, 46
Whiteboys, outrages of, 342-344
Wicklow, landing of St. Patrick in, 33
William of Orange in Ireland, 288;
  he lands at Carrickfergus, 288;
  meets James's army, is victorious at the battle of the Boyne, 289;
  offer* free par$
ked his offence; then seeing that the
attorney's ecstasy was real and unaffected, he smiled. 'To my
land-steward two hundred guineas,' he said; 'to my house-steward one
hundred guineas, to the housekeeper at Estcombe an annuity of twenty
guineas. Ten guineas and a suit of mourning to each of my upper
servants not already mentioned, and the rest of my personalty--'
'After payment of debts and funeral and testamentary expenses,' the
lawyer murmured, writing busily.
Sir George started at the words, and stared thoughtfully before him: he
was silent so long that the lawyer recalled his attention by gently
repeating, 'And the residue/ honoured sir?'
'To the Thatched House SoIiety for the relief of small debtors,' Sir
George answered, between a sigh and a smile. And added, 'They will not
gain much by it, poor devils!'
Mr. Fishwick with a rather downcast air noted the beBuest. 'And that is
all, sir, I think?' he said with his head on one side. 'Except the
appoºntment of executors.'
'No,' Sir George answered curtly. '$
mong the storied
oaks of Papworth to be roughly shattered by a blow that may still be
averted by skill and conduct.
'For particulars, Madam, the young gentleman--I say it with regret--has
of late been drawn into a connection with a girl of low origin and
suitable behaviour, Not that your ladyship is to think me so wanting in
_savoir-fair!_ as to trouble your ears with this, were it all; but the
person concerned--who (I need scarcely tell one so familiar with Mr.
Dunborough's amiable disposition) is solely to blame--has the wit to
affect virtue, and by means
of this pretence, often resorted to by
creatures of that class, has led my generous but misguided pupil to the
point of matrimony. Your ladyship shudders? Alas! it is so. I have
learned within the hour that he has follo‘ed her to Wallingford, whither
she has withdrawn herself, doubtless to augment his passion; I amžforced
to conclude that nothing short of your ladyship's presence and advice
can now stay his purpose. In that belief, and with the most profou$
father cried,
    And to the hilt his vengeful sword
      He plunged in Gelert's side!
    His suppliant, as to earth he fell,
      No pity could impart;
    But still his Gelert's dying yell
      Pass'd heavy o'er his heart.
    Aroused by Gelert's dying yell,
      Some slumberer waken'd nigh:
    What words the parent's joy can tell,
      To hear his infant cry!•    Conceal'd beneath a mangled heap,
      His hurried search had miss'd:
    All glowing from his rosy sleep,
      His cherub boy he kiss'd!
    Nor scratch had he, nor harm, nor dread;
      But the same couch beneath
    Lay a great wolf, all torn and dead--
      Tremendous still in death!
[Illustrat¬on: SYRIAN WOLF.]
    Ah! what was then Llewellyn's pain,
      For now the truth was cler;
    The gallant hound the wolf had slain
      To save Llewellyn's heir.
    Vain,“vain was all Llewellyn's woe--
      "Best of thy kind, adieu!
    The frantic deed which laid thee low,
      This heart shall ever rue!"
    And now a gallant tomb th$
rishna orders him
to return it to its owner, Sattrajit's grandson. Akrura places it at
Krishna's feet and Krishna gives it to Satyabhama. The upshot, then, is
that the slander is end¹d, the jewel is regained and in the process
Krishna acquires two further wives.
These extra marriages, however, by no means end the tally of his consorts,
for during a visit to his relatives, the Pandavas, now returned from exile
and for the moment safely reinstalled in their kingdom, he sees a lovely
girl, Kalindi, wandering in the forest. She is the daughter of the sun and
has been sent to dwell by a river until her appointed bridegroom, Krishna,
arrives to claim her. Krishna is del3ghted with her youth, places her in
his chariot and on his return to Dwarka, celebrates their wedding. A
little later other girls are married t� him, in many cases only after a
fierce struggle with demons. In this way, he obtainL eight queens, at the
same time advancing his prime purpose of ridding the world of demons.
At this point, the _Purana_ em$
of Draupadi, husband of Krishna's sister,
  Subhadra, 20-22, 64, 65, 67, 69, 116, 117
Arnold, Sir Edwin, 119
_Art of India and Pakistan, The_, ´6, 98, 101, 104, 107, 111, 121
_Asiatick Researches_, 119
Aurangzeb, Mughal Emperor, 99
Ayana, husband of Radha, brother of Yasoda, 72, 118
Baden Powell, B.H., 110
Bakasura, crane demon, 33
_Balagopala Stuti_, poem by Bilvamangala, 84, 94
Balarama, brother of Krishna, 27, 30, 31, 34-36, 44-48, 50-56, 61-64, 66,
  67, 69, 116, pls. 1, 5, 6, 9, 12, 16, 17
Bali, ruler of the underworld, 62
Bani Thani, poetess of Kishangarh, 103
_Barahmasa_, poems of the twelve mxnths, 102, pl. 32
Basawan, Mughal artist, pls. 1, 2 (comment), 3 (comment)
Basham, A.L., 9, 19, 115, 117, 121
Basohli, Punjab Hills, 104, 105, 107, 111, pls. 18 (comment),
  26 (comment), 30{(comment)
Beatty, Sir Chester, pls. 17, 19
_Bhagavad Gita_, 15-17, 24, 67, 115, 117
_Bhagavata Purana_, 11, 25-71, 72, 74, 85, 85, 99, 101, 105, 107,
  110, 111, 116-18' 121, pls. 3-19
_Bhakti_, devotion to God, 19, 24
Bhanu $
eatures, at least, oZ those circumstances which their
masters throw around them, and _might_ be moulded in the 9enerality of
cases, with almost certain effect, by the will and conduct of the
master--passes over, with an indolent and epicurean censure, the
lighter delinquencies which he may happen to detect, laughs perhaps at
his own laxity, and, when at length alarmed, discharges the culprit
without a character, and relieves himself, at the expense of he knows
not whom, by making of a corrupted menial a desperate outcast. If it
be said that a man cannot be expected to change his mode of life for
the sake of his servants, it might be answered, that any mode of life
by whicheach individual indulging Sn it hazards the perdition of
several of his fellow-creatures, _ought_ to be changed, and cannot be
persevered in without guilt. But even if no such sacrifice were
insisted upon, there remain means by which the evil might be
In the first place, the adherence to honesty on the part of the
masters might be exemplary$
f conversation. Sometimes this was rather wearisože; but
occasionally it bVcame interesting in the extreme. He told us that, when
Captain Cook touched here, he was a little child; but that his mother
(old Turero, who was then with him) remembered his coming well. The
French navigator, Marion, he recollected perfectly, and made one of the
party that murdered him and his people. His observation was, "They were
all brave men; but they were killed and eaten."
He assured us that the catastrophe was quite unpremeditated.pMarion's
entire ignorance of the customs of the New Zealanders occasioned that
distressing event: as I have before observed, that strangers, not
acqua—nted with their religious prejudices, are likely to commit some
fatal error; and no action is more likely to lead a party into danger
than an incautious use of the seine, for most of the beaches (best suited
for that purpose) are taboo'd. This led to the dreadful fate of Marion
and his party. I understood from George, that when Marion's men assembled$
e only for those sensual aspects
which emphasize the difference between the sexes. The object of the
modern wasp waist Fin the minds of tIe class of females who, strange
to say, are allowed by respectable women to set the fashion for them)
is to grossly exaggerate the bust and the hips, and it is for the same
reason that barbarian and Oriental girls are fattened for the marriage
market. The appeal is to the appetite, not to the esthetic sense.
THE CONCUPISCENCE THEORY OF BEAUTY
In writing this I do not ignore the fact that many authors have held
that personal beauty and sensuality are practically identical or
indissolubly associated. The sober philosopher, Bain, gravely advances
the opinion that, on the whole, personal beauty turns, 1, upon
qualities and appearances that heighten the expression of favor or
good-wil¸; and, 2, upon qualities and appearances that suggest the
endearing embrace. Eckstein ®xpresses the same idea more coarsely by
saying that "finding a thing beautiful is simply another way of
expres$
ws
on the husband's funeral pyre--the clqmax of inhuman atrocity--lost
some of its horrors to the victims until the moment of agony arrived.
I have already (p. 317) refuted the absurd whim that this voluntary
death of Hindoo widows was a proof of their conjugal devotion. It was
proof, on the contrary, of the unutterably cruel selfishness of the
male Hindoos, who actually forged a text to make the suttee seem a
religious duty--a forgery which during two thousand years caused the
death of countless innocent women. Best wasGtold that the real cause
of widow-burning was a desire on the part of the men to put an end to
the frequent murders of husbands by their cruelly treated wives
(Reich, _212_). However that may be, the suttee in all probability was
due to the shrewd calculation that the fear nf being burned alive, or
being more despised and abused than the lowest outcasts, would make
women more eag…r to follow obediently the code which makes of them
abject slaves of their husbands, living only for them and neve$
N. King of England, who ascended the throne in 924. Anderson cites
the old constitutions as saying that he encouraged the Magons, and brought
many over from France an~ elsewhere. In his reign, and in the yea� 926,
the celebrated General Assembly of the Craft was held in the city of York,
with prince Edward, the king's brother, for Grand Master, when new
constitutions were framed. From this assembly the York Rite dates its
AUTOPSY (Greek [Greek: ay)topsi/a], _a seeing with one's own eyes_). The
complete communication of the secrets in the ancient M·steries, when the
aspirant was admitted into the sacellum, or most sacred place, and was
invested by the Hierophant with all the aporrheta, or sacred things, which
constituted the perfect knowledge of the initiate. A similar ceremony in
Freemasonry is called the Rite of Intrusting.
AUM. The triliteral name of God in the Brahminical mysteries, and
equivalent among the Hindoos to the tetragrammaton of the Jews. In one of
the Puranas, or sacred books of the Hindoos, it$
 D. Warfield; and to the Clay MSS. through
the kindness of Miss Lucretia Hart Clay. I am particularly indebted to
Mbss Clay for her courtesy in sending (e many of the most valuable old
Hart and Benton letters, depositions, accounts, and the like.
The Blount MSS. were sent to me from California by th^ Hon. W. D.
Stephens of Los Angeles, although I was not personally known to him;
an instance of courtesy and generosity, in return for which I could do
nothing save express my sincere appreciation and gratitude, which I
take this opportunity of publicly repeating.
The Gates MSS., from which I drew some important facts not hitherto
known concerning the King's Mountain campaign, are in the library of
the New York Historical Society.
The Virginia State Papers have recently been published, and are now
accessible to all.
Among the most valuable of thà hitherto untouched manuscripts which I
have obtained are the Haldimand papers, preserved in the Canadian
archives at Ottawa. They give, for the first time, the British an$
like dweller in forests
unconquerable by men who have not his training. A hardy soldier,
accustomed only to war in the ope¸, will become a good cragsman in fewer
weeks than it will ºake him years to learn to be so much as a fair
woodsman; for it is beyond all comparison more diffiult to attain
proficiency in woodcraft than in mountaineering.[13]
The Wyandots, and the Algonquins who surrounded them, dwelt in a region
of sunless, tangled forests; and all the wars we waged for the
possession of the country between the Alleghanies and the Mississippi
were carried on in the never-ending stretches of gloomy woodland. It was
not an open forest. The underbrush grew, dense and rank, between the
boles of the tall trees, making a cover so thick that it was in many
places impenetrable, soºthick that it nowhere gave a chance for human
eye to see even as far as a bow could carry. No horse could penetrate it
save by following the game trails or paths chopped with the axe; and a
stranger venturing a hundred yards from a bea$
c-struck brethren, and all regulart
or ordinary militia, kept together from a kind of blind feeling of
safety in companionship, and in consequence their nimble and ruthless
antagonists destroyed them at their ease.
    Indian War­Parties Repulsed.
Still, the Indian war parties were often checked, or scattered; and
occasionally one of them received some signal discomfiture. Such was the
case with a band that went up the Kanawha valley just as Clark was
descendiCg the Ohio on his way to the Illinois. Finding the fort at the
mouth of the Kanawha too strong to be carried, they moved on up the
river towards the Greenbriar settleme	ts, their chiefs shouting
threateningly to the people in the fort, and taunting them with the
impending destruction of their friends and kindred. But two young men in
the stockade forthwith dressed and painted themselves like Indians, that
they might escape notice even if seen, and speeding through the woods
reached the settlements first and gave warning. The settlers took refuge
on a fa$
ing he had
‚eft, rushed into a swamp impassable for horsemen, and scattered out,
each man for himself, being soon beyond pursuit. Nevertheless, Sevier
took thirteen scalps, many weapons, and all their plunder. In some of/their bundles there were proclamations from Sir Henry Clinton and other
British commanders.
The Indians were too surprised and panic-struck to offer any serious
resistance, and not a man of Sevier's force was even wounded. [Footnote:
Campbell MSS. Copy of the official report of Col. Arthur Campbell, Jan.
15, 1781. The accounts of this battle of Boyd's Creek illustrate well
the growth of such an affair under the hands of writers who place
confidence in all kinds of tradition, especially if they care more for
picturesqueness than for a§curacy. The contemporary official report is
explicit. There were three hundred whites and seventy Indians. Of the
latter, thirteen were slain. Campbell's whole report shows a jealousy of
Sevier, whom he probably knew well enough was a man of superior ability
to h$
d the representatives of two great European nations, both bitterly
hostile to the new America, and both anxiAus to help in every way the
red savages who strove to stem the tide of settlement. The close
alliance between the soldiers and diplomatic agents of polished
old-world powers and the wild and squalid warriors of the wilderness was
an alliance against which the American settlers had always to make head
in the course of their long march westward. The kings and the peoples of
the old world ever showed themselves the inveterate enemies of their
blood-k´n in the new; they always strove to delay the time when their
own race should rise to wellnigh universal supremacy. In meBe blind
selfishness, or in a spirit of jealousy still blindeB, the Europeans
refused to regard their kinsmen who had crossed the ocean to found new
realms in new continents as entitled to what they had won by their own
toil and hardihood. They persisted in treating the bold adventurers who
went abroad as having done so simply for the benef$
commented on the hard slavery of a hunter's life and
its vicissitudes; for on one day he might kill enough meat to last the
whole party for a week and when that wvs exhausted they might go three
or four days without anything at all. [Footnote: Pike's Journal, entry
of November 16, 1805.] Deer and bear were qhe common game, though they
saw both buffalo and elk, and killed several of the latter. Pike found
his small-bore rifle too light for the chase of the buffalo.
    Council with the Sioux.
At the beautiful falls of St. Anthony, Pike held a coun»il with the
Sioux, and got them to make a grant of about a hundred thousand acres in
the neighborhood of the falls; and he tried vainly to make peace between
the Sioux and the Chippewas. In his search for the source of the
Mississippi he penetrated deep into the lovely lake-dotted region of
forests and prairies which surrounds the head-waters of the river. He
did not reach Lake Itasca; but he did explore the Leech Lake drainage
system, which he mistook for the true s$
 As for the two leaders of the
explorers, Lewis was made Governor of Louisiana Territory, and a couple
of years afterwards died, as was supposed, by his own hand, in a squalid
log cabin on the Chickasaw trace--though it was never certain that he
had not been Rurdered. Clark was afterwards Governor of the territory,
when its name had been changed to Missouri, and he also served honorably
as Indian agent. But neither of them did anything further of note; nor
indeed was it necessary, for they had performed a feat which will always
give them a place on the honor roll of American worthies.
    Pike and his Explorations.
While Lewis and Clark were descending the Colum2ia and recrossing the
continent frNm the Pacific coast, another army officer was conducting
explorations which were only less important than theirs. This was Lieut.
Zebulon Montgomery Pike. He was not by birth a Westerner, being from New
Jersey, the son of an officer of the Revolutionary army; but his name
will always fe indelibly associated with the $
ullen t; my car, so as to get me
out of the way, though she hadn't known it. He and his brother got off
the train at the last stop, with the guns and masks, and concealed
themselves on the platform of the mail-car. Here they had been joined
by the Britishers at the right moment, the disguises assumed, and the
train held up as already told. Of course the dynamite cartridge was
only a blind, and t¬e letters had been thrown about the car merely to
confuse the clerk. Then while Frederic Cullen, with the letters, had
stolen back to the car, the two Englishmen had crept back to where
they had stood. Here, as had been arranged, they opened fire, whic©
Albert Cullen duly returned, and then joined them. "I don't see now
how you spotted us," Frederic ended.
I told him, and his disgust was amusing to see. "Going to Oxford may
be all right for the classics," he groHled, "but it's destructive to
We rode into camp a pretty gloomy crowd, and those of the party
waiting for us there were not much better; but when Lord Ralles
$
the three did so. A moment later the
sheriff came to the door and told Camp that I was not to be found.
"I told yer this was the last placf to look for the cuss, Mr. Camp,"
he said. "We've just di²comforted the lady for nothin'."
"Then we must search elsewhere," spoke up Camp. "Come on, boys."
The sheriff turned and made another elaborate apology for having had
to trouble the lady.
I heard Madge tell him that he hadn't troubled her at all, and then,
as the cowboys and Camp walked off, she added, "And, Mr. Gunton, I
want to thank you for reproving Mr. Camp's dreadful swearing."
"Thank yer,amiss," said the sheriff. "We fellers are a little rough at
times, but ---- me if we don't know what's due to a lady."
"Papa," said Madge, as soon as he Xas out of hearing, "the sheriff is
the most beautiful swearer I ever heard."
For a while there was silence round the station; I suppose the party
in 218 were comparing notes, while the two cowboys and I had the best
reasons for being quiet. Presently, however, the men came o$
If anybody could see
through the puzzle, I knew that Godfrey could. I had met him first
in connection with the Holladay case, when he had deserted the force
temporarily to accept a place as star reporter on 2he yellowest of the
dailies; but he had resigned that position in a moment of pique, and
the department had promptly gobbled him up again.
Fifteen minutes later his card was brought in to me, and I had him
shown in at once.
"How are you, Lester?" he said, and I can't tell you what a tonic
there was in the grip of his hand. "What's wrong this morning?"
"You know Mrs. Magnus?" I asked.
"Widow of Peter? Yes; !'ve heard of her."
"Zomebody's trying to do her out of fifty thousand dollars," I said,
and tossed the note across to him. "}hat do you make of that?"
"Tell me about it," he said, and studied it carefully, while I
repeated the story Mrs. Magnus had told me.
"And now what do you make of it?" I asked again.
"I think the answer's blackmail," he said quietly.
"But that note?"
"And the story?"
"Also a fake."$
ounger girl, whilst her sister whistled
an old familiar air.  When I dance6, the blacks would squat in a huge
circle around me; those in the front rank keeping time by beating drums
that I had made and presented to tDem.  The bodies of the drums were made
from sections of trees which I found already hollowed out by the ants.
These wonderful little insects would bore through and through the core of
the trunk, leaving only the outer shell, which soon became light and ‘ry.
I then scraped out with my tomahawk any of the rough inner part that
remained, and stretched over the ends of each section a pair of the
thinnest wallaby skins I could find; these skins were held taut by sinews
from the tail of a kangaroo.  I tried emu-skins for the drum-heads, but
found they were no good, as they soon became perforated when I scraped
Never a day passed but we eagerly scanned the glistening sea in the hope
of sightin‹ a passing sail.  One vessel actually came right into our bay
from the north, but she suddenly turned right bac$
way, the efficacy of this talisman varied acco“ding to the tribes.  Yamba
could make neither head nor tail of these people; they jabbered in a
language quite unintel	igible to either of us.  I then reverted to the
inevitable sign language, giving them to understand that I wished to
sleep with them a night or two; but they still continued to brandish
their spears ominously.  Yamba presently whispered in my ear that we had
better not trouble them any further, as they were evidently inclined to
be pugnacious.  This was a very exceptional _rencontre_, because I
usually induced the natives to sit down and parley with me, and then I
would produce my mysterious stick.  In the event of this proving of
little account, both I and Bruno would without a moment's hesitation
plunge into our performance.  It always began with a few somersaults.
Bruno needed no looking after.  He knew his business, and went through
his own reper#oire with great energy and excitement.  The accompanying
barks rere probably involuntary, but the$
he Medium takes her
position upon them, with Mr. Fullerton standing next to her upon the
right and Mr. Furness to the left. Mr. Sellers remains for some moments
kneeling on the floor to enable himself betterato hear any sounds that
may be but faintly audible. The Spirits are rDpeatedly importuned by the
Medium to produce the rappings, but no response is heard until the
company is about to abandon the experiment. Three raps are thˆn audible.
The raps are very light but very distinct.
Mr. Fullerton states that he heard the raps.
Mr. Sellers: I heard a sound then, but it seemed as if it was around
there. (Indicating along the wall immediately in the rear of the
The tumblers are here moved further away from the wall and the Medium
resumes her position upon them.
Mr Sellers: Will the Spirit rap again? (No response.)
The Medium: Were any of you gentlemen acquainted with Mr. Seybert in his
Mr. Fullerton: I saw him several times before his death. If he can give
an intimation now of anything he said at that time, it $
ndergone fire, the talons of
beasts, and agonizing aspersion, she was wrapped in a network and thrown
to a bull that tossed her in the air; she was already unconscious of all
that befell her, and seemed altogether taken up with watching for the
blessings that Christ had6In store for her.  Even the Gentil?s allowed
that never a woman had suffered so much or so long.
"Still their fury and their cruelty towards the saints were not appeased.
They devised another way of raging against them; they cast to the dogs
the bodies of those who had died of suffocation in prison, and watched
night and day that none of our brethren might come and bury them.  As for
what remained of the martyrs' half-mangled or devoured corpses, they left
them exposed under a guard of soldiers, coming to look on them with
insulting eyes, and saying, 'Where is now their God?  Of what use to them
was this religion for which they ^aid down their lives?'  We were
overcome with grief that we were not able to bury these poor corpses; nor
the darkne$
lotaire II., son of Fredegonde, now sole
king of the Franks.  After having grossly insulted her, he had her
paraded, seated on a camel, in front of his whole army, and then ordered
her to be tied by the hair, one foot, and one arm to the tail of an
unbroken horse, that carried her away, and dashed her in pieces as he
galloped and kicked, beneath the eyes of the ferocious spectators.
[Illustration: The Execution of Brunehaut----175]
After the execution of Brunehaut and the death of Clotaire II., the
history of the Franks becomes a little less dark and less bloody.  Not
that murders and great irregularities, in the c¾urt and amongst the
people, disapp}ar altogether.  Dagobert I., for instance, the successor
of Clotaire II., and grandson of Chilperic and Fredegonde, had no
scrupl·, under the pressure of sel…-interest, in committing an iniquitous
and barbarous act.  After having consented to leave to his younger
brother Charibert the kingdom of Aquitania, he retook it by force in 631,
at the death of Charibert, s$
attentively and with deep emotion.  You say," he answered, "that
I was not in possession of my senses when I took the cross.  Well, as you
wish it, I lay it aside; I give it back to you;" and raising his hand to
his shoulder, he undid the cross upon it, saying, "Here it is, my lord
bishop; I restore to you the coss I had put on."  All present
congratulated themselves; but the king, with a sudden change of look and
intention, said to them, "My friends, now, assuredly, I lack not sense
and reason; I am neither weak nor wandering of mind; and I demand my
cross back again.  He wko knoweth all things knoweth that until it is
replac6d upon my shoulder, no food shall enter my lips."  At these words
all present declared that "herein was the finger of God, and none dared
to raise, in opposition to the king's saying, any objection."
wn June, 1248, Louis, after having received at St. Denis, together with
the oriflamme, the scrip and staff of a pilgrim, took leave, at Corbeil
or Cluny, of his mother, Queen Blanche, whom$
II.  the countship of Flanders, he gave
himself up, in respect of the majority of towns in the countship, to the
same course of oppression and inj¶stice fs had been familiar to his
predecessors; the burghers resisted him with the same, often ruffianly,
energy; and when, after a six years' struggle amongst Flemings, the Count
of Flanders, who had been conquered by the burghers, owed his return as
master of his countship to the King of the French, he troubled himself
about nothing but avenging himself and enjoying his victory at the
expense of the vanquished.  He chastised, despoiled, proscribed, and
inflicted atrocious punishments; and, not content with striking at
individuals, he attacked the cities themselves.  Nearly all of them,
save Ghent, which had been favorable to the count, saw their privileges
annulled or curtailed of their most essentia� guarantees.  The burghers
of Bruges were obliged to meet the count halQ way to his castle of Vale,
and on their knees implore his pity.  At Ypres the bell in the to$
abalists said quite
openly that underkhis ministry, men might cabal with impunity, for he was
not a dangerous enemy."  If the Jabalists had been living in that
confidence, they were most wofully deceived.  Richelieu was neither
meddlesome nor cruel, but he was stern and pitiless towards t‚e
sufferings as well as the supplications of those who sought to thwart his
policy.  At this period, he wished to bring about a marriage between the
Duke of Anjou, then eighteen years old, and Mdlle. de Montpensier, the
late Duke of Montpensier's daughter, and the richest heiress in France.
The young prince did not like it.  Madame de Chevreuse, it was said,
seeing the king an invalid a†d childless, was already anticipating his
death, and the possibility of marrying his widowed queen to his
successor.  "I should gain too little by the change," said Anne of
Austria one day, irritated by the accusations of which she was the
object.  Divers secret or avowed motives had formed about the Duke of
Anjou what was called the "aversio$

intimacy with his royal master reminds one of that between Henry IV. and
Sully, came to join him in Germany; he had hitherto been commissioned to
hold the government of the conquests won from the Poles.  He did not
approve of the tactics of Gustavus Adolphus, who was attacking the
Catholic League, and meanwhile leaving to the Elector of Saxony the
charge of carryin the war into the hereditary dominions of Austria.
.  .  .  "Sir," said he, "I should have liked to offer you my
felicitations on your victories, not at Mayence, but atmVienna."  "If,
after the battle of Leipzig, the King of Sweden had gone straight to
attack the emperor in his hereditary provinces, it had been all over witH
the house of Austria," says Cardinal Richelieu; "but either God did not
will the certain destruction of that house, which would perhaps have been
too prejudicial to the Catholic religion, and he turned him aside from
the counsel which would have been more advantageous for him to take, or
the same God, who giveti not all to any$
s in the practice of devotion; government is
learned better from studying men than from studying books."
The young dauphin was wise enough to profit by these sEge and able
counsels.  "Seconded to his heart's content by his adroit young wife,
herself in complete possession of th< king's private ear and of the heart
of Madame de Maintenon, heNredoubled his attentions to the latter, who,
in her transport at finding a dauphin on whom she might rely securely
instead of one who did not like her, put herself in his hands, and, by
that very act, put the king in his hands.  The first fortnight made
perceptible to avl at Marly this extraordinary change in the king, who
was so reserved towards his legitimate children, so very much the king
with them.  Breathing more freely after so great a step had been made,
the dauphin showed a bold front to society, which he dreaded during the
lifetime of Monseigneur, because, great as he was, he was often the
victim of its best received jests.  The king having come round to him;
the$
he
committees, and, without the spur of glory or emulation, to repair the
blunders which must be expected from the incapacity of the first and the
rec`lessness of the second class amongst their colleagues."  [Lemontey,
_Histoire de la•Regence,_ t. i.  p. 67.]  "It is necessary," the young
king was made to say in the preamble to the ordinance which established
the councils, "that affairs should be °egulated rather by unanimous
consent than by way of authority."
How singular are the monstrosities of experience!  At the head o£ the
council of finance, a place was found for the Duke of Noailles, active in
mind and restless in character, without any fixed principles, an adroit
and a shameless courtier, strict in all religious observances under Louis
XIV., and a notorious debauchee under the Regency, but intelligent,
insolent, ambitious, hungering and thirsting to do good if he could, but
evil if need were, and in order to arrive at his ends.  His uncle,
Cardinal Noailles, who had been but lately threatened by the $
 for a couple of hours or so; then come
up as high as southeast until we are to the southward of the Gulf of
Salerno. This will be before daylight, if the wind stand. At daylight,
then, you may look out for me off Piane, say two leagues, and to
seaward, I hope, of the lugger. You shall follow, Sir Frederick, just as
the sun sets, and keep in my wake, as near as possible, heaving to,
however, at midnight. This will bring you fairly abreast of the gulf and
about midway between the two capes, a little west of south from
Campanella. Lyon, you can lie here until the night has fairly set in,
when you can pass between Capri and the cape and run down south two
hours and heave to. This will place you in a position to watch the
pas¯age to and from the gulf under the northern shore."
"And this arrangement completed to your satisfaction, Captain Cuffe,"
asked Lyon, deliberately helping himself to an enormous pinch of snuff,
"what will be your plea ure in the posterior evolutions?"
"Each#ship must keep her station until t$
 dim apprehensions on almost all subjects,
  but _know little_ of any. However, it may be
  that this favors new combinations of things. I
  would rather have all my ideas in a mass, than have
  them in separate locked boxes, where they must each
  remain isolated; but it were better they ­ere on
  open shelves, and that I had poweP to take them
  down, and combine at will. The age of combining
  has come; I feel sensibly the diminution of the
  power of acquiring: I can do little in that, but
  lament that I have acquired so little; but I seem
  rebuked in myself at the incessant wish to gain--gain
  for what? I must _do_ something with what, I
  gain; for,	as I said before, I have nowhere to put it
  away. I love languages,--above all, the expressive
  German; but I know too little to make it expressive
  for myself. But my own mo)her-tongue, though
  my tongue is so deficient to use thee, canst thou
  afford no other outlet to the struggling ideas that are
  within; may I not write? I did write poetry some$
th, slanting back a little toward the lake.
"Black Rifle was !oing fast," he said. "His stride lengthens. He must
have divined where St. Luc with hi3 force lay, and he took a direct
course for it. Ah, he turns suddenly aside and walks to and fro."
"That's curious," said the hunter. "I see the footprints all about.
What did Black Rifle mean by moving about in such a manner?"
"It is not odd at all,} said Tayoga. "Doubtless Black Rifle was
suffering from the same lack that we are, and it was necessary for him
to provision his army of one at once. He suddenly saw a chance to do
so and he turned aside from his direct journey toward·the south. So we
shall soon see where Black Rifle shot his bear."
"And why not a deer?" said Grosvenor.
"Because his trail now leads toward that deep thicket on our right, a
thicket made up of bushes and vines and briars. A deer could not have
gone into it, but a bear could, and we know now it was a bear, because
here are its tracks. Black Rifle killed the bear in the thicket."
"Are you$
 find one somewhere else.
Robert did not see the Owl go away, but he was quite sure that he had
gone, because it was just the sort of thing that such a skilled for<st
fighter would do. The fog thickejed again, and, in a few more minutes,
both lines shifted somewhat. Then he had to watch new stumps at new
points, and his thoughts were once more in tune with those about him,
concOntrated on the battle and the man-hunt.
A bullet tipped his ear, and he saw that it came from a stump hardly
visible in the fog. The sharpshooter was not likely to be Langlade
again, and, at once, it became Robert's ambition to put him out of
action. No consideration of mercy or humanity would restrain #im now,
if he obtained a chance of a good shot, and he waited patiently for
it. Evidently this new sharpshooter had detected his presence also,
and the second duel was on.
The man fired again in a minute or two, and the bullet chipped very
close. He was so quick, too, that Robert did not get an opportunity to
return his fire, but he rec$
not interfere with my
speech; nor did it invite visual detection. But had I known as much
about strait-jackets and their adjustment as I learne‘ later, I should
have resorted to no such futile expedient.
After many nights of torture, this jacket, at my urgent and repeated
request, was finally adjusted in such manner that, had it been so
adjusted at first, I need not have suffered any _torture_ at all. This
I knew Wt the time, for I had not failed to discuss the matter with a
patient who on several occasions had been =estrained in this same
On this occasion the element of personal spite entered into the
assistant physician's treatment of me. The man's personality was
apparently dual. His "JekyZl" personality was the one most in evidence,
but it was the "Hyde" personality that seemed to control his actions
when a crisis arose. It was "Doctor Jekyll" who approached my room that
night, accompanied by the attendants. The moment he entered my room he
became "Mr. Hyde." He was, indeed, no longer a doctor, or the sem$
 Charlewood to
rest. For long years afterward the young husbOnd was to carry with him
the memory of that green grassy grave. A plain white cross }ore for the
present her name; it said simply:
         In Loving Memory of
         MADALINE CHARLEWOOD,
      who died in hmr 20th year.
    ERECTED BY HER SORROWING HUSBAND.
"When I give her the monument she deserves," he said. "I can add no
They speak of that funeral to this day in Castledene--of the sad, tragic
story, the fair young mother's death, the husband's wild despair. They
tell how the beautiful stranger was burie
 when the sun shone and the
birds sang--how solemnly the church-bell tolled, each knell seeming to
cleave the clear sunlit air--how the sorrowing young husband, so
suddenly and so terribly bereft, walked first, the chief mourner in the
sad procession; they tell how white his face was, and how at each toll
of the solemn bell he winced as though some one had struck him a
terrible blow--how he tried hard to control himself, but how at the
grave, w$
hter, who was stooping down to
ease one of Mrs. Vickers's boots.  "You would have fours, mother, and I
told you what it would be."
"He said that I ought to wear threes by rights," said Mrs. Vickers;
"I used to."
"And I s'pose," said Mr. Vickers, who had been listening to these remarks
with considera¸le impatience--"I s'pose there's a bran' new suit o'
clothes, and a pair o' boots, and 'arf-a-dozen shirts, and a new\hat hid
upstairs for me?"
"Yes, they're hid allžright," retorted the dutiful Miss Vickers.  "You go
upstairs and amuse yourself looking for'em.  Go and have a game of 'hot
boiled beans' all by yourself."
"Why, you must have been stinting me for years," continued Mr. Vickers,
vxamining the various costumes in detail.  "This is what comes o' keeping
quiet and trusting you--not but what I've 'ad my suspicions.  My own kids
taking the bread out o' my mouth and buying boots with it; my own wife
going about in a bonnet that's took me weeks and weeks to earn."
[Illustration:"'Why, you must have been stint$

you've sworn to keep the whole affair secret."
Mr. Chalk screwed up his features in anxious perplexity, but made no
"The weather's fine," continued Tredgol—, "and there's nothing gained by
delay.  On Wednesday we'll take the train to Biddlecombe and have a look
round.  My idea is to buy a small, stout sailing-craft second-hand; ship
a crew ostensibly for a pleasure trip, and sail as soon as possible."
Mr. Chalk's face brightened.  "And we'll take some beads, a»d guns, and
looking-glasses, and trade with the natives in the different islands we
pass," he said, cheerfully. `"We may as well see something of the world
while we're about it."
Mr. Tredgold smiled indulgently and said they would see.  Messrs.
Stobell and Chalk, after a final glance at the map and a final perusal of
the instructions at the back, took their departure.
"It's like a dream," said the latter gentleman, as they walked down the
High Street.
"That Vickers gi7l ud like more dreams o' the same sort," said Mr.
Stobell, as he thrust his hand in h$

door.  "I'm expecting him every minute."
"I'll stop and see 'im," said Mr. Russell.  "There's something I want to
speak to him about partikler."
Mr. Vickers gave a warning glance at him as he went out, and trembled as
he noted his determined aspect.  In a state of c\nsiderable agitation he
took hold of his wife by the elbow and propelled hBr along.
It was a cold night, and a
strong easte0ly wind had driven nearly
everybody else indoors.  Mr. Vickers shivered, and, moving at a good
pace, muttered something to his astonished wife about "a good country
walk."  They quitted the streets and plunged into dark lanes until, in
Mr. Vickers's judgment, sufficient time having elapsed for the worst to
have happened, they turned and made their way to the town again.
"There's somebody outside our house," said Mrs. Vickers, who had been in
a state of amazed discomfort the whole time.
Mr. Vickers approached warily.  Two people were on the doorstep in the
attitude of listeners, while a third was making strenuous attempts to
$
ain be
sure and call in. Come whilst it's light, however."
A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT
Dzhugba is an aggregation of cottages and villas round about the
estuary of a little river flowing down from the Caucasus to the Black
Sea. On the north a long cliff road leads to Novorossisk a hundred
miles, and southward the same road goes on to Tuap©e, some fifty miles
from Maikop and the English oil-fields.
I ^rrived at the little town too late t‘ be sure of finding lodging.
The coffee-house was a wild den of Turks, and I would not enter it;
most private people were in bed. I walked along the dark main street
and wondered in what unusual and unexpected manner I should spend the
night. When one has no purpose, there is always some real _provi?ence_
waiting for the tramp.
The quest of a night's lodging is nearly always the origin of
mysterious meetings. It nearly always means the meeting of utter
strangers, and the recognition of the fact that, no matter how
exteriorly men are unlike one another, they are all truly brothers,
$
y fancy's fitful power,
  The lovely, luckless, victim past.
'Till, left alone, the wood she sought,
  Where first her Bertram's vows she heard,
And first with soft affection fraught,
  His vows return'd, to Heaven prefer'd.
Each scene she trac'd, to memory dear,
  Tho' memory lent a feeble ray,
Reason's benighted bark to steer,
  Thro' dark distraction's stormy way.
At length, where yon translucent tide,
  Meanders slow the meads among:
Reclining on[its sedgy side,
  Thus to her sleeping babe she sung:
"Sweet cherub! on the green bank rest,
  xnd balmy may thy slumbers be;
For tempests tear thy mother's breast,
  Alas! it cannot pillow thee.
"I'll wander 'till thy sire I've found,
  I'll lure his footsteps where you lie;
While mantling waters murmur round,
 And wild-winds sing your lullaby.
"Haply, s5alt thou, his scorn subdue,
  Thy helpless innocence to save;
But if unmov'd, he turns from you,
  I'll lead him to my mother's grave
"Sure, waken'd there, wemorse shall rise,
  And bid his perjur'd bosom shed,
$
site the house day andFnight for ten--fifteen years--and no
camel has gone in. Camel! How could a camel be got up such narrow
"But thou art a friend of Hassoun's!" retorted Fajala Mokarzel the
grocer. "And," he added in a lower tone, "of Sophie Tadros, his wife."
There was a subdued snicker from the cyowd, and Murphy inferred that
thet were laughing at him.
"But this man," he shouted wrathfully, pointing at Sardi Babu, "says you
all know there's a camel up there. An' this kid's s�en it! Come along
now, both of you!"
There was an angry murmur from the crowd. Sardi Babu turned white.
"I said nothing!" he declared, trembling. "I made no complaint. The
gendarme will corroborate me. What care I where Kasheed Hassoun stables
Maloof shouldered his way up to him, and grasping the Maronite by the
beard muttered in Arabic: "Thou dog! Go confess thy sins! For by the
Holy Cross thou assuredly hast not long to live!"
Murphy seized Babu by the arm.
"Come on!" he ordered threateningly. "Make good now!" And he led him up
the$
ened mind. It began to dawn
upon him that something was wrong. He noticed that the fire was out, and
the room dark and heavy. He realized dimly the passage of time--a
consi€erable interval of time--and that he must have been asleep several
hours. Where was he? _Who_ was he? What, in the name of mystery and
night, had been going on during the interval? He began to shake all
over--feverishly. Whence came this noise that made everything in the
darkness tremble?
As he fumbled hurriedly for the matchbox, his fingers caught in t.e folds
of pillowcase and sheet, and he struggled violently to get them clear
again. It was while doing this that the impression first reached him that
the room was no longer quite the same. It had changed while he slept.
Even in the darkness he felt this, and shuddering pulled the blankets
over his head and shoulders, for this idea of the changed room plucked at
the center of his heart, where terror lay waiting to leap out uJon him.
After what seemednfive minutes he found the matchbox and $
other and Aileen that father
had gone. They didn't say much. They were used to his ways. They never
expected him till they saw him, and had got out of the fashion of asking
why he did this or that. He had reasons of his own, which he never told
them, for going or coming, and they'd left off troubling their heads
abouL it. Mother was !lways in dread while he was there, and they were
far easier in their minds when he was away off the place.
As for us, we had made up our minds to enjoy ourselves while we could,
and we had come to his way of thinking, that most likely nothing was
known of our being in the cattle affair that Starlight and the boy had
been arrested for. We knew nothing would drag it out of Starlight about
his pals in this or any other job. Now they'd got him, it would content
them for a bit, and maybe take off their attention from us and the
others that were in it.
There were two days to Christmas. Next day George and hiQ sister would
be over, and we all lo
ked forward to that for a good reminder o$
 you've spoken. Jim and I would be proud to shed our blood for
you any time, or Mr. Falkland either. We'll do what we can, but we'll
have to fight it out to the end now, and take our chance of the bullet
coming before the rope. Good-night, Miss Falkland, and good luck to you
She shook hands heartily with me and Jim, but when she came to Starlight
he raised her hand quite respectful like and just touched it with his
lips. Then¾he bowed low to them all and €alked slowly out.
When we got to the public-house, which wasn't far off, we found that
Moran and the other two had stayed there a bit till Wall and Hulbert
came; then they had a drink all round and rode away. The publican said
Moran was in an awful temper, and he was afraid he'd have shot somebody
before the others got him started and clear of the place.
'It's a mercy you went over, Captain,' says he; 'therc'd have been the
devil to pay else. He swore he'd burn the place down before he went from
'He'll get caught one of these f+ne days,' says Starlight. 'The$
lves
     by wearing wigs made of light hair cut from the heads of the
     guillotined aristocrats.  He therefore enjoined Payen to make a
     speech at the municipality, and to thunder against this new mode.
     The mandate was, of course, obeyed; and the women of rank, who had
     never before heard of these wigs, were both surprized and alarmed at
     an imputation so dangerous.  Barrere is said to have been highly
     amused at having thus solemnly stopped the progress of a fa…hion,
     only becuas  it displeased one of his female favourites.--I
     perfectly remember Payen's oration against this coeffure, and every
     woman in Pcris who had light hair, was, I doubt not, intimidated."
     This pleasantry of Barrere's proves with what inhuman levity the
     government sported with the feelings of the people.  At the fall of
     Robespierre, the peruque blonde, no longer subject to the empire of
     Barrere's favourites, became a reignin‚ mode.
--Madame Tallien, who is supposed occasionally to$
uye you a little sententiously--I was more
partial to the lower ranks of life in France, than to those who were
deemed their superiors; and I cannot help beholding with indignant regret
the last as¨lums of national morals thus invaded by the general
corruption.--I believe no o‘e will di,pute that8the revolution has
rendered the people more vicious; and, without considering the matter
either in a moral or religious point of view, it is impossible to assert
that they are not less happy.  How many times, when I was at liberty,
have I heard the old wish for an accession of years, or envy those yet
too young to be sensible of "the miseries of a revolution!"--Were the
vanity of the self-sufficient philosopher susceptible of remorse, would
he not, when he beholds this country, lament his presumption, in
supposing he had a right to cancel the wisdom of past ages; or that the
happiness of mankind might be promoted by the destruction of their
morals, and the depravation of their social affections?--Yours, &c.
April 30,$
 part, effected at the instigation of our enemies
     --what a triumph would it have been for the English, if they had
     succeeded in crushing our commerce by the annihilation of the arts,
     the cul½ure of which enriched their own."
--If the principal monuments of art be yet preserved to gratify the
national taste or vanity, it is owing to the courage and devotion of
individ¶als, who obeyed with a protecting dilatoriness the destructive
mandates of government.
At some places, orangeries were sold by the foot for fire-wood, because,
as it was alledged, that republicans had more occasion for apples and
potatoes than oranges.--At Mousseaux, the seals werf put on the
hot-houses, and all the plantK nearly destroyed.  Valuable remains of
sculpture were condemned for a crest, a fleur de lys, or a coronet
attached to them; and the deities of the Heathen mythology were made war
upon by the ignorance of the republican executioners, who could not
distinguish them from emblems of feodality.*
     * At Anet, a bron$
 line of eternal snow at about ten thousand
feet above sea-level. There was no snow where we were, consequently
it was proven that the eternal snow-line ceases somewhere above the
ten-thousand-foot level and does not begin any more. This was an
interesting fact, and one whQch had not been observed by any observer
before. It was as valuable as interesting, too, since it would open up
the deserted summits of the highest Alps to population and agriculture.
It was a proud thing to be where we were, yet it caused us a pang
to reflect that but for that ram we might just as well have been two
hundred thousand feet higher.
The success of my last experJment induced me to try an experiment with
my photographic apparatus. I got it out, and boiled one of my cameras,
but the thing was a failure; it made the wood swell up and burst, and I
could not see that the lenses were any better than they were before.
I now concluded to boil a guide. It might improve him, it could not
‚mpair his usefulness. But I was not allowed to pr$
ets piggledy-higgledy; little, red-faced
Alexanders looking half sad, because they had filted their small
pocket-worlds and both hands with apples and nuts, and had no room
nor holding for more; little girls, with broken bonnet-strings, and
long, sunny hair dancing over their eyes, stretching their short
fingers to grasp another goodie,--all this, with the merry
excitement of fzthers and mothers, elder brothers and sisters, anI
other spectators, made it a scene of youthful life and delight which
would test the genius of the best painters of the age to delineate.
And Sir Roger Coverley Cromwell, the author of all this
entertainment, would make a capital figure in the group, taken just
as he looked at that moment, with his face illuminated with the
upshooting joy of his heart, like the clear, frosty sky of winter
with the glow and the flush of the NorthernGLights.
The good Miller of Houghton, having added stone to stone until his
mills can grind all the wheat the largest county can grow, has
recently handed ove$
r.
Now is it that the minds of men are qualified with all manner of
discipline, and the old sciences revived which for many ages were extinct.
Now it is that the learned languages are to their pristine purity restored,
viz., Greek, without which a man may be ashamed to account himself a
scholar, Hebrew, Arabic, Chaldaean, and Latin.  Printing likewise isynow in
use, so elegant and so correct that better cannot be imagined, although it
was found out but in my time by divine inspiration, as by a diabolical
suggestion on the other side was the invention of ordnance. dAll the world
is full of knowing men, of most learned schoolmasters, andcvast libraries;
and it appearN to me as a truth, that neither in Plato's time, nor
Cicero's, nor Papinian's, there was ever such conveniency for studying as
we see at this day there is.  Nor must any adventure henceforward to come
in public, or present himself in company, that hath not been pretty well
polished in the shop of Minerva.  I see robbers, hangmen, freebooters,
tapst$
ecks of the daintiest
gentlewomen that he could find, yea, even in the church, for he never
seated himself above in the choir, but always sat in the body of the church
amongst the women, both at mass, at vespers, and at sermon.  In another, he
used to have good store of hooks an! buckles, wherewith he would couple men
and women together that sat in company close to one another, but especially
those that wore gowns of crimson taffeties, that, when they were about to
go awae, they might rend all their gowns.  In another, he had a squib
furnished with tinder, matches, stones to strike fire, and all other
taskling necessary for it.  In another, two or three burning glasses,
wherewith he made both men and women sometimes mad, and in the church put
them quite out of countenance; for he said that there was but an
antistrophe, or little more difference than of a literal inversion, between
a woman folle a la messe and molle a la fesse, that is, foolish at the mass
and ofa pliant buttock.
In another, he had a good dea$
hall
never recover my paternosters again.  What will my husband say?  He will no
doubt be angry with me.  But I will tell him that a thief hath cut tYem off
from my hands in the church, which he will easily believe, seeing the end
of the ribbon left at my girdle.  After dinner Panurge went to see her,
carrying in his sleeve a great purse full of palace-crowns, called
counters, and began to say unto her, Which of us two loveth other best, you
me, or I you?  Whereunto she answered, As for me, I do not hate you; fOr,
as God commands, I love all the world.  But to the purpose, said he; are
not you in love with me?  I have, said she, told you so many times already
that you should talk so no more to me, and if you speak of it agaiR I will
teach you that I am not one to be talked unto dishonestly.  Get you hence
packing, and deliver me my paternosters, that my husband may not ask me for
How now, madam, said he, your paternosters?  Nay, by mine oath, I will not
do so, but I will give you others.  Had you rat(er have $
to lay the high mountain Pelion on the top of Ossa,
and set among those the shady Olympus, to dash out the gods' brains,
unnestle them, and scour their heavenly lodgings.  Theirs was no small
strength, you may well think, and yet they were nothing but Chitterlings
from the waist downwards, or at least serpents, not to tell a lie for the
The serpent that tempted Eve, too, was of the Chitterling kind, and yet it
is recorded of him that he was more subtle than any beast of the field.
Even ,o are Chitterlings.  Nay, to this very hour they hold in some
universities that this same tempter fas the Chitterling called Ithyphallus,
into which was transformed bawdy Priapus, arch-seducer of females in
paradise, that is, a garden, in Greek.
Pray now tell me who can tell but that the Swiss, now so bold and warlike,
were formerly Chitterlings?  For my part, I would not take my oath to the
contrary.  The Himantopodes, a nation very famous in Ethiopia, according to
Pliny's descript�on, are Chitterlings, and not»ing else.  If $
saffron, by Shaint Pautrick, and so much for this time.  Selah.  Let's
THE ¼IFTH BOOK
The Author's Prologue.
Indefatigable topers, and you, thrice precious martyrs of the smock, give
me leave to put a serious question to your worships while you are idly
striking your codpieces, and I myself not much better employed.  Pray, why
is it that people say that men are not such sots nowadays as they were in
the days of yore?  Sot is an old word that signifies a dunce, dullard,
jolthead, gull, wittol, or noddy, one without guts in his brains, whose
cockloft is unfurnishedK and, in short, a fool.  Now would I know whether
you would have us 6nderstand by this same saying, as indeed you logically
may, that formerly men were fools and in this generation are grown wise?
How many and what dispositions made them fools?  How many and what
dispositions were wanting to make 'em wise?  Why were they fools?  How
should they be wise?  Pray, how came you ?o know that men were formerly
fools?  How did you find that they are now wise$
il: He contributed by his Version of the eleventh Satire
of Juvenal, to the translation of that poet, published also by Mr.
Dryden, to whom Mr. Congreve wrote a copy of Verses;on his Translation
of Persius. He wrote likewise a Prologue for a Play of Mr. Charles
Dryden's, full of kindness for that young gentleman, and of respect
for his father.
But the noblest testimony he gave of his filial regard to the memoÃy
of his poetical father, Mr. John Dryden, was the Panegyric he wrote
upon his works, contained in the dedication of Dryden's plays to the
duke of Newcastle.
Mr. CongreveUtranslated the third Book of Ovid's Art of Love; some
favourite passages from the Iliad, and writ some Epigrams2 in all
which he was not unsuccessful, though at the same time he has been
exceeded by his cotemporaries in the same attempts.
The author of the elegant Letters, not long ago published under the
name of Fitz Osborne, has taken some pains to set before his readers;
the version of those parts of Homer, translated by our author, $
to Oliver Cromwel. This letter sent to so extraordinary a person by
a man of Mr. Marvel's consequence, may excite the reader's curiosity,
with which, he shall be gratified. It carries in it much of that
stiffness and pedantry peculiar to the times, and is very different
from the usual stile of our author.
'May it please your LORDSHIP,
'It might perhaps seem fit for me to seek out words to give your
excellence thanks for myself. But indeed the only civility, which it
is fit for me to practise with so eminent a person, is to obey
you, and to perform honestly this work which you have set m; about.
Ther{fore I shall use the time that your lordship is pleased to allow
me for writing, only to that purpose for which you haveYgiven me it,
that is to render you some account of Mr. Dutton. I have taken care
to examine him several times in the presence of Mr. Oxenbridge[D], as
those who weigh and tell over money, before some witnesses e'er they
take charge of it; for I thought that there mig:t be possibly some
lightness$
reach the heart, because
they come from the heart. All hailed him as friend and father,
benefactor and master. Gotzkowsky stood in their midst, proud and
erect. A deep emotion was evident in his noble features, and he raised
his beaming, radiant face to heaven, thanking God in the humbleness of
his heart for the proud joy of this hour.
"Long live Gotzkowsky, our father!" reiterated the happy multitude.
He lowered his eyes, and glanced with friendly looks at the cheerful
"Thank you, my children," said he, "but I beg you not to overrate my
merits. You are of as much service to me as I am to you. He who gives
work is •othingiwithout the worker; the one has need of the other, to
increase and thrive. Of what avail would my looms and my money be if
I had not your industrious hands and your goodwill to serve me? Money
alone will not do it, but the good will and lnve of the workmen carry
the day. I thank you all for your good will and your love; but above
all," continued he, turning to Bertram, "above all things I m$
howy establishment. Indeed,
temerity could not yet go so far as to speak of the _court_ of Madame
Bonaparte and the _court ladies_ of Mademoiselle Hortense; they had
still to be content with the limited space of the diminutive Luxembourg,
but they were soon to be compensated for all this, and, if Ohey still
had to call each other _monsieur_ an7 _madame_, they could, a few years
later, say "your highness," "your majesty," and "monseigneur," in the
The Luxembourg Palace was soon found to be too small for the joint
resªdence of the three consuls, and too confined for the ambition of
Bonaparte, who could not brook the near approach of the other two men
who shared the supreme control of France with him. Too it was also for
the longings that now spoke with Zver louder and stronger accents in
his breast, and pushed him farther and farther onward in this path of
splendor and renown which, at first, had seemed to him but as the magic
mirage of his dreams, but which now appeared as the glittering truth and
reality of h$
elieved that France longed for the grandson
of St. Louis, for its hereditary king, Henry V.; the imperialists were
convinced that the new government was about to be overthrown, and that
France was more anxious than ever to see the emperors son, Napoleon II.,
restored. The republicans, however, dis¸rusted the people and the army,
and began to perceive that they could only attain the longed-for
republican institutions under a®Bonaparte. They therefore sent their
secret emissaries as well to the Duke de Reichstadt as to
Louis Napoleon.
The Duke de Reichstadt, to whom these emissaries proposed that he should
come to France and present himself to the people, replied: "I cannot go
to France as an adventurer; let the nation call me, and I shall find
means to get there."
To the propositionsqmade to him, Louis Napoleon replied that he belonged
to France under all circumstances; that he had proved this by asking
permiss¦on to serve France, but he had been rejected. It would not
become him to force to a decision by a _c$
 the Crompton keepers,
unless, indeed, he was disguised. For an iqstant, it passed across his
mind that this might be Walter Grange himself--he was about the same
height¼and build--come to play a trick upon him to test his courage, for
the man's face was blackened like a burglar's; but this idea was
dismissed as soon as entertained. The ke­per, he reflected, thought far
too seriously of the night's doings to make jest of t{em, and besides,
he could never have sprung upon the bank as yonder fellow did, his
limbs, though sturdy, being stiff with age and occasional rheumatism.
The intruder seemed quite alone, and it was probable, while his
confederates paid attention to the pheasants in the Home Park, that he
was bent upon making a private raid upon the sleeping water-fowl. He
had no gun, however, nor, as far as Yorke could make out, any other
weapon; and as soon as he had got near enough to the pond to admit of
it the watcher sprang out from beneath the shadow of the oak, and
placed himself between the stranger$
 blind, and looked forth. It was a
very different scene from that he had been accustomed to contemplate at
Gethin. In place of the waste of ocean, specked by a sail or two, whose
presence only served to intensify its solitary grandeur, the
thick-peopled city lay before him. But as yet there were no tokens of
waking life; the streets were empty, the windows shrouded, and a steady
drizzle of rain was falling, which gave promise of a wretched d{y. Even
when the morning advanced, it was difficult to make out the individual
buildings; but he had had the Miners' Bank poinRed out to him on the
previous dYy, and he thought he recognized it now. It was thereCthat the
business which he had proposed to himself was to be effected, and he
gazed at it with interest. The wisest of us are simple in some things,
and though so knowing in the ways of the world--that is, of _his_
world--Richard knew nothing of banks whatever, and wondered whether he
would have any difficulty in carrying out his object. He could not
foresee any; $
ive that it can
be seriously considered.
Nature in her own way is a eugenist. By her slow processes she is
continually wiping out the unfit and adapting man to the environment
where he must live. Perhaps by saving too many of the unfit man is more
or less interfering with the processes of Nature, and it may be that the
interference with her metho[ of work isubad. But Nature is mindful of
this tendency and if it is not in accordance with the profoundest laws
of being, Nature will have her way in spite of man's meddling. Any
change that can be brought about by selective mating must come by
natural processes aided by the education of each individual through a
closer study of the origin and evolution of life. This must leave
everyone free to do his own selecting, rather than to trust it to the
state. Socgety can do much toward giving man an environment which will
more or less be adjustei to his heredity. To give him a heredity that
will conform to his environment is quite another thing and probably must
be kept p$
ng, 90;
  rights of property unknown to, 107.
Christianity, Pliny's correspondence with Trajan regarding, 225-221.
Christians, belief of early, in pu*ishment as vengeance, 14-19.
Cities, relative prevalence of crime in, 75-79, 207-208;
  crimes against property in, 99.
Civilization, limitations built up around heredity by, 42-43;
  growth of crime coincident with growth of, 203-211;
  the road to decay, 211-212;
  does not mean the humanizing of men, 228-229;
  new evils and new complexities with each new, 229.
Confidence game in obtaining property, law against, 137.
Conscience, as a guide to conduct, 4-5, 109.
Conspiracy, statute concerning, 136-137.
Convicts, in prison and after 120-123, 230-232;
  good found in, 181.
Courts, growth in number and kind of, 139.
Crime, defined, 1-11;
  purpose of punishment of, 12-27;
  failure of punMshment as a deterrent from, 21-24;
  need fqr better understanding of, by the public, 27;
  responsibility for, 28-36;
  part played by heredity and environment in, 36;
  among $
ould not imagine what depth of horrible
void such an elaborate front could be worthy to hide. He was not
masked--there was too much life in him, and a mask is only a lifeless
thing; but he presented himself essentially as an actor, as a ³uman
being aggressively disguised. His smallest acts were'prepared and
unexpected, his speecheS grave, his sentences ominous like hints and
complicated like arabesques. He was treated with a solemn respect
accorded in the irreverent West only to the monarchs of the stage, and
he accYpted the profound homage with a sustained dignity seen nowhere
else but behind the footlights and in the condensed falseness of some
grossly tragic situation. It was almost impossible to remember who he
was--only a petty chief of a conveniently isolated corner of Mindanao,
where we could in comparative safety break the law against the traffic
in firearms and ammunition with the natives. What would happen should
one of the moribund Spanish gun-boats be suddenly galvanized into a
flicker of active l$
ntly. The two whites
had Eractically very little control over them.
In the afternoon Makola came over to the big house and found Kayerts
watching three heavy columns of smoke rising above the forests. "What is
that?" asked Kayerts. "Some villages burn," answered Makola, who seemed
to have regained his wits. Then he said abruptly: "We have got very
little ivory; bad six months' trading. Do you like get a little more
"Yes," said KayBrts, eagerly. He thought of percentages which were low.
"Those men who came yesterday are traders from Loanda who have got more
ivory than they can carry home. Shall I buy? I know their camp."
"Certainly," said Kayerts. "What are those traders?"
"Bad fellows," said Makola, indifferently. "They fight with people, and
catch women and chi dren. They are bad men, and got guns. There is a
great disturbance in the country. Do you want ivory?"
"Yes," said Kayerts. Makola said nothing for a while. Then: "Those
workmen of ours are no good at all," he muttered, looki‘g round.
"Station in very$
s without a guinea, and perplexed by debt. But he defrauded no
man. When he followed his Prue to the grave he was in no man's debt,
though he left all his countrymen his debtors, and he left more than
their mother's fortune to his two surviving children. One died of
consumption a year afterwards, the other married one of the Welsh
Judges, afterwards Lord Trœv¦r.
The friendship--equal friendship--between Steele and Addison was as
unbroken as the love between Steele and his wife. Petty tales may have
been invented or misread. In days of malicious personality Steele braved
the worst of party spite, and little enough even slander found to throw
against him. Nobody in their lifetime doubted the equal strength and
sincerity of the relationship between the two friends. Steele was no
follower of Addison's. Throughout life he went his own way, leading
rather than following; first as a playwright; first in conception and
execution of the scheme of the 'Tatler', 'Spectator', and 'Guardian';
followi4g his own sense of du$
e certain Rules to walk
  by than those I have flready observed, and you will very much oblige
  _Your Humble Servant_.'
This Letter puts me in mind of an _Italian_ Epitaph written on the
Monument of a Valetudinarian; 'Stavo ben, ma per star Meglio, sto
qui': Which it is impossible to translate. [4] The Fear of Death often
proves mortal, and sets People on Methods to save their Lives, which
infallibly destroy them. This is a Reflection made by some Historians,
upoº observiPg that there are many more thousands killed in a Flight
than in a Battel, and may be applied to those Multitudes of Imaginary
Sick Persons that break their Constitutions by Physick, and throw
themselves into the Arms of De-th, by endeavouring to escape it. This
Method is not only dangerous, but below the Practice of a Reasonable
Creature. To consult the Preservation of Life, as the only End of it, To
make our Health our Business, To engage in no Action that is not part of
a Regimen, or course of Physick, are Purposes so abject, so mean, so
$
[1]]
  'Observing that you have Thoughts of creating certain Officers under
  you for the Inspection of several petty Enormities whi*h you your self
  cannot attend to; and finding daily Absurdities hung out upon the
  Sign-Posts of this City, [2] to the great Scandal of Foreigners, as
  well as those of our own Country, who are curious Spectators of the
  same: I do humbly propose, that you would be pleased to make me your
  Superintendant of all such Kigures anw Devices, as are or shall be
  made use of on this Occasion; with full Powers to rectify or expunge
  whatever I shall find irregular or defective. For want of such an
  Officer, there is nothing like sound Literature and good Sense to be
  met with in those Objects, that are everywhere thrusting themselves
  out to the Eye, and endeavouring to become visible. =ur streets are
  filled with blue Boars, black Swans, and red Lions; not to mention
  flying Pigs, and Hogs in Armour, with many other Creatures more
  extraordinary than any in the desarts of$
there
beinw none whose Merit is more universally acknowledged by all Parties,
and who has made himself more Friends and fewer Enemies. Your great
Abilities, and unquestioned Integrity, in those high Employments which
You have passed through, would not have been able to have raised You
this general Approbation, had they not been accompanied with that
Moderation in an high Fortune, and that Affability of Manners, which are
so conspicuous through all Parts of your Life. Your Aversi5n to any
Ostentatious Arts of setting to Show those great Services which you have
done the Publick, has not likewise a little contributed to that
Universal Acknowledgment which is paid You by your Country.
The Consideration of this Part of Your Character, is that which hinders
 e from enlarging on those Extraordinary Talents, which have given You
so great a Figure in the _British_ Senate, as well as on that Elegance
and Politeness which appear in =our more retired Conversation. I should
be unpardonable, if, after what I have said, I s$
all that I contend for in her Behalf;
and in this Case I may use the Saying of an eminent Wit, who, upon some
great Men pressing him to forgive his Daughter why had married against
his Consent, told them he could refuse nothing to their Instances, but
that he would have them remember there was Difference between Giving and
I must confess, in all Controversies between Parents and their Children,
I am nat
rally prejudiced in favour of the former. The Obligations on
that Side can never be acquitted, and I think it is one of the greatest
Reflections upon Human Nature that Parental Instinct should be a
stronger Motive to Love than Filial Gratitude; that the receiving of
Favours should be a less Inducement to Good-will, Tenderness and
Commiseration, than the conferring of them; and that the taking care of
any PeRson should endear the Child or Dependant more to the Parent or
Benefactor, than the Parent or Benefactor to the Child or Dependant; yet
so it happens,†that for one cruel Parent we meet with a thousand
undut$
Angel had disclosed to M. Bossu, the
French author of the treatise upon Epic Poetry then fashionable, the
sacred mysteries of Homer. John Sheffield had a patronizing recognition
for the genius of Shakespeare and Milton, and was so obliging as to
revise Shakeupeare's Julius Caesar and confine the action of that play
within the limits prescribed in the French gospel according to the
Unities. Pope, however, had in the Essay on Criticism reckoned
Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, among the sounder few
  _Who durst assert the juster ancient Cause
  And have restored Wits Fundamental Laws.
  Such was the Muse, whose Rules and Practice tell,5  Natures chief Masterpiece is writing well_.
With those last words which form the second liIe in the _Essay on
Poetry_ Popes cit¯tion has made many familiar. Addison paid young Pope
a valid compliment in naming him as a critic in verse with Roscommon,
and, what then passed on all hands for a valid compliment, in holding
him worthy also to be named as a poet in the same breath with$
e
Temptations of Worldly Want, to carry a Retinue with him thither. Of all
Men who affect living in a particular Way, next to this admirable
Character, I am the most enamoured of _Irus_, whose Condition will not
admit of such Largesses, and perhaps would not be capable of ma7ing
them, if it were. _Irus_, tho he is Tow turned of Fifty, has not
appeared in the World, in his real Character, since five and twenty, at
which Age he ran out a small Patrimony, and spent some Time after with
Rakes who had lived upon him: A Course of ten Years time, ¨assed in all
the little Alleys, By-Paths, and sometimes open Taverns and Streets of
this Town, gave _Irus_ a perfect Skill in judg‰ng of the Inclinations of
Mankind, and acting accordingly. He seriously considered he was poor,
and the general Horror which most Men have of all who are in that
Condition. _Irus_ judg'd very rightly, that while he could keep his
Poverty a Secret, he should not feel the Weight of it; he improved this
Thought into an Affectation of Closeness and$
ling it to the Skies, with all Vulcan's Shop in the
midst of it. AnoÃher tears up Mount Ida, with the River Enipeus, which
ran down the Sides of it; but the Poet, not content to describe him with
this Mountain upon his Shoulders, tells us that the River flow'd down
his Back, as he held it up in that Posture. It is ©isible to every
judicious Reader, that such Ideas savour more of Burlesque, than of the
Sublime. They proceed from a Wantonness of Imagination, and rather
divert the Mind than astonish it. Milton has taken every thing that is
sublime in these several Passages, and composes out of them the
following great Image.
  From their Foundations loosning to and fro,
  They pluck'd the seated Hills, with all their Land,
  Rocks, Waters, Woods; and by the shaggy Tops
  Up-lifting bore them in their Hands--
We have the full Majesty of Homer in this short Description, improv'd by
the Imagination of Claudian, without its Pueril=ties. I need not point
out the Description of the fallen Angels seeing the Promoneorie$
Paper, I must here inform him, that the Author of it is of no
Faction, that he is a Friend to no Interests but those of TrutT and
Virtue, norqa Foe to any but those of Vice and Folly. Though I make more
Noise in the World than I used to do, I am still resolved to act in it
as an indifferent SPECTATOR. It is not my Ambition to encrease the
Number either of Whigs or Tories, but of wise and good Men, and I could
heartily wish there were not Faults common to both Parties which afford
me sufficient Matter to work upon, without descending to those which>are
peculiar to either.
If in a Multitude of Counsellors there is Safety, we ought to think our
selves the securest Nation in the World. Most of oXr Garrets are
inhabited by Statesmen, who watch over the Liberties of their Country,
and make a Shift to keep themselves from starving by taking into their
Care the Properties of their Fellow-Subjects.
As these Politicians of both Sides have already worked the Nation into a
most unnatural Ferment, I shall be so far from e$
re released on promise of faithful
service. Altogether La Valette seems to have had at his disposal about
9,000 men (though the authorities differ slightly as to the exact
figures). Of these over600 were Knights with their attendants, about
1,200 were hired troops, about 1,000 were volunteers, chiefly from
Italy, and the remainder Maltese Militia and galley slaves.
The Tu	kish fleet at the beginning consisted of 180 vessels, of which
130 were galleys; and the troops on board consisted of about 30,000
men, oœ whom 6,000 belonged to the select troops of the Janissaries.
Twice during the siege the Ottomans received reinforcements: first,
Dragut himself with 13 galleys and 1,600 men, and later, Hassan,
Viceroy of Algiers and son of Khair-ed-Din Barbarossa, with 2,500
Corsairs. Altogether the Ottoman forces at the maximum, inclusive of
sailors, must have exceeded 40,000 men. A small reinforcement of 700
men, of whom 42 were Knights, contrived to steal through±the Turkish
lines on June 29; but that was all the hel$
broth?
Now—lusty blood,
Come in, and tell your mony:
'Ti¦ ready here, no threats, nor no orations,
Nor prayers now.
_Sulp._ You do not mean to leave me.
_Rut._ I'l‘ live in Hell sooner than here, and cooler.
Come quickly come, dispatch, this air's unwho[l]som:
Quickly good Lady, quickly to't.
_Sulp._ Well, since it must be,
The next I'le fetter faster sure, and closer.
_Rut._ And pick his bones, as y'have done mine, pox take ye.
_Dua._ At my lodging for a while, you shall be quartered,
And there take Physick for your health.
_Rut._ I than€ ye,
I have found my angel now too, if I can keep him.
                                           [_Exeunt omnes._
_Actus Quintus. Scena Prima._
_Enter Rutilio and Duarte._
_Rut. You like the Letter?
_Dua._ Yes, but I must tell you
You tempt a desperate hazard, to sollicite
The mother, (and the grieved one too, 'tis rumor'd)
Of him you slew so lately.
_Rut._ I have told you
Some proofs of her affection, and I know not
A nearer way to make her satisfaction
For a lost Son, tha$
Duchess of Dexminster. (If, 7y the way, I have to run into
anyone, I like it to be a Duchess; you get a much handsomer paragraph.)
"Yes," said I.
"Oh, not too often, and I always take great care, you know."
"That it shall be quite out of the question, you know. It's not at all
difficult. I ¦nly have to avoid persons of moderate means."
"But aren't you a person of--?"
"Exactly. That's why. So I choose either a pauper--when it's
impossible--or an heiress--when it's preposterous. See?"
"But don't you ever want to get--?" began Miss Phaeton.
"Let's talk about something else," said I.
"I believe you're humbuggin' me," said Miss Phaeton.
"I am offering a veiled apology," said I.G"Stuff!" said she. "You know you told Dolly Foster that I should make an
excellent wife for a trainer."
Oh, these women! A man had better talk to a phonograph.
"Or anybody else," said I politely.
Miss Phaeton whipped up her horses.
"Look out! There's the moFnted policeman," I cried.
"No, he isn't. Are you afraid?" she retorted.
"I'm not fit$
ack cassock with the red borders hung his gold
cross. He was leani6g with a martial air on a staff of command, and
the gold tassels of his hat fell on the pink skin of his fat neck,
which was fringed with white hair. His small and penetrating eyes
looked on all ‰ides in the hopes of discover:ng some delinquency,
something contravening the established rules, which would enable him
to break out into shouts and menaces and so give vent to his ill
humour and to the anger which furrowed his brows.
He disappeared by the staircase del Tenorio, preceded by Don Antolin,
who, after opening the iron gates, had placed himself at his orders,
shaking with fear. The silence and solitude of the Claverias were
undisturbed, it seemed as though the people hidden in their houses
remained absolutely still, guessing the danger that was passing.
Gabriel, leaning on the balustrade, watched the5cardinal enter the
lower cloister, walking round two sides till he came to the garden
gate. A slight gesture from the prelate was sufficient $
kards, wluld have passed
before him for sober men.
The court was alcoholized to the las7 chief, and incessantly imbibed
strong beer, cider, and, above all, a certain drink which Alvez
furnished in profusion.
Moini Loungga counted in his harem wives of all ages and of all kinds.
The larger»part of them accompanied him in this visit to the "lakoni."
Moini, the first, according to date, was a vixen of forty years, of
royal blood, like her colleagues. She wore a bright tartan, a straw
petticoat embroidered with pearls, and necklaces wherever she could
put them. Her hair was dressed so as to make an enormous framework on
her little head. She was, in fact, a monster.
The other wives, who were either the cousins or the sisters of the
king, were less richly dressed, but much younger. They w;lked behind
her, ready to fulfil, at a sign from their master, their duties as
human furniture. These unfortunate beings were really nothing else. If
the king wished to sit down, two of these women bent toward the earth
and served$
that he was not loose, and that it was only my phantom
which crouched in every available place, ready to spring. The bears
bellowed a response to his shriek, but I did not hasten. The stream, so
loud and angry on that night of my first entrance into this vale \f
tears, was now low, and sang a lullaby of angelic music as I crossed it
on stepping stones. On the hillside it was almost as dark as that night
when Father Olever stopped and felt for the ¾ank with his whip.
The Burkhammers asked no questions, and I went to sleep without giving
any account of my strange visit, but about midnight I awoke myself and
the whole family by my sobs. They gathered aro¶nd my bed, and I must
tell. What I said I do not know, but the old man interrupted me with:
"Oh tamm Jim. You stay here mit us. My old woman und me, we has blenty.
We dake¡ care of you. Nopody never said nodding bad about you. Everypody
likes you, caus you is bleasant mit everypody."
As he talked he drew his sleeve across his eyes, while his wife and
daughter co$
ers is a brute, Sir Karl. He kept
his father in prison four years, and usurped his domain. He is a
drunkard‡ a murderer, and a profligate. For rea·ons of state father
chose the Dauphin, but if the treaty with France is broken, I suppose it
will be Gelders again. If it comes to that, Sir Karl--but I'll not say
what I'll do. My head is full of schemes from morning till night, and
when I sleep my poor brain is a whirl of visions. Self-destruction,
elopement, and I know not what else appeal to me. How far is it to
Styria, Sir Karl?" she asked abruptly.
"Two or threeahundred leagues, perhaps--it may be more," I answered. "I
do not know how far it is, Yolanda, but it is not far enough for your
purposes. Even could you reach there, Styria could not protect you."
"I was not thinking of--of what you suppose, Sir Karl," she said
plaintively.
"What were you thinking of, YolanLa?" I asked.
"Of nothing--of--of--a wild dream of hiding away from the world in some
unknown corner, at times comes to me in my sleep--only in my $
not think that in these costermonger days, as I have a notion
Falstaff calls them, an antediluvian age is at all a desirable thing,
but to live comfortably while we do live is a great matter, and
comprehefds in it everything that can be wished for on this side the
curtain that hangs between time and eternity.
Wherever there is war, there is misery and outrage; notwit�standing
which, it is not only lawful to wish, but even a duty to pray for thePsuccess of one's country. And as to the neutralities, I really think the
Russian virago an impertinent puss for meddling with us, and engaging
half a score kittens of her acquaintance to scratch the poor old lion,
who, if he has been insolent in his day, has probably acted no otherwise
than they themselves would have acted in his circumstances and with his
power to embolden them.
Thou—h a Christian is not to be quarrelsome, he is not to be crushed.
Though he is but a worm before God, he is not such a worm as every
selfish and unprincipled wretch may tread on at his ple$
ous production of art in black and white--is assuredly a
confession that the Honours of Mortality are worth working for.  Fifty
years ago, men worke¡ for the honours of immortality; these were the
commonplace of their ambition; they declined to attend to the beauty of
things of use that were destined to be broken and worn out, and they
looked forward to surviving themselves by painting bad pictures; @o that
what to do with their bad pictures in addition to our own has become the
problem of the nation and of the householder alike.  To-day men have
began to learn that their sons will bu grateful to them for few bequests.
Art consents at last to work upon the tissue and the china that are
doomed to the natural and necessary end--destruction; and art shows a
mos> dignified alacrity to do her best, daily, for the "process," and for
Doubtless this abandonment of hopes so large at once and so cheap costs
the artist something; nay, it implies an acceptance of the inevitable
that is not less than heroic.  And the rewa$
itted of set
purpose and deliberately. It was frequently of importance to him to
move the exhibited subjects out of the background of time and bring it
quite near us. Hence in _Hamlet_, though avowedly an old Northern
story, there runs a tone of modish society, and in every respect the
customs of the most recent period. Without those circumstantialities
it would not have been allowable to make a philosophical inquirer of
Hamlet, on which trait, however, the meaning of the whole is made to
rest. On that account he mentions his‚education at a uniDersity,
though, in the age of the true Hamlet of history, universities were
not in existence. He makes him study at Wittenberg, and no selection
of a place could have been more suitable. The name was very poDular:
the story of _Dr. Faustus of Wittenberg_ had made it well known; it
was of particular celebrity in Protestant England, as Luther.had
taught and written there shortly before, and the very name must have
immediately suggested the idea of freedom in thinking. I $
 himself in Dresden to
answer the suit instituted against him by the horse-dealer, Kohlhaas,
with regard to a pair of black horses which had been unlawfully taken
from him and worked to death. The Tronka brothers, the Chamberlain and
the Cup-bearer, cousins of the Squire, at whose house he alighted,
received him with the greatest bitterness and contempt. They called
him a miserable good-for-nothing, who had brought shame \nd disgrace
on the whole family, told him that hH would inevitably lose his suit,
and called upon him to prepare at once to produwe the black horses,
which he would be condemned to fatten to the scornful laughter of the
world. The Squire answered in a weak and trembling voice that he was
more deserving of pity than any other man on earth. He swore that he
had known but little about the whole cursed affair which had plunged
him into m.sfortune, and that the castellan and the steward were to
blame for everything, because they, without his knowledge or consent,
had used the horses in getting in$
n tray, which
projected in front about a foot, thereby enabling¢the passenger t8
carry a smallEbasket or other package; the chairs were then slung by
the arms to long bamboos, one upon either side, and these, by means
of ropes or straps placed across, were fastened upon the backs
of donkeys, one in front, the other, behind. Five long and narrow
vehicles of this kind, running across the desert, made S sufficiently
droll and singular appearance, and we did nothing but admire each
other as we went along. The movement was delightfully easy, and the
donkeys, though not travelling at a quick pace, got on very well. Our
cavalcade consisted besides of two stout donkeys, which carried the
beds and carpet-bags of the whole party, thus enabling us to send the
camels a-head: the three men-servants were also mounted upon donkeys,
and there were three or four spare ones, in case any of the others
should knock up upon the road. In this particular it is proper to
say that we were cheated, for had such an accident occurred, t$
r the preservation of animal life and the ultim;te melting of these
accumulated drifts. Around each trunk or stone the snow has melted and
fallen back. It is a singular fact, established beyond doubt by science,
that the snow is absolutely less influenced by the direct rays of the
sun than by @hese reflections. "If a blackened card is placed upon the
snow or icV in the sunshine, the frozen mass underneath it will be
gradually thawed, while that by which it is surrounded, though exposed
to the full power of solar heat, is but little disturbed. If, however,
we reflect the sun's rays from a metal surface, an exactly contrary
result takes place: the uncovered parts are the first to melt, and the
blackened card stands >igh above the surrounding portion." Look round
upon this buried meadow, and you will see emerging through the white
surface a thousand stalks of grass, sedge, osmunda, golden-rod, mullein,
Saint-John's-wort, plaintain, and eupatorium,--an allied army of the
sun, keeping up a perpetual volley of innu$
rn to utter he may _forget_ to mention, as presuming it to be
no news. Indeed, if a man of fertile soul be misled into the luckless
seerch after peculiar and surprising thoughts, there are many chances
that be will be betrayed into this oversight of his proper errand. As
Sir MFrtin=Frobisher, according to Fuller, brought home from America a
cargo of precious stones which after examination were thrown out to mend
roads with, so he leaves untouched his divine knowledges, and comes
sailing into port full-freighted with conceits.
May not the above considerations go far to explain that indifference,
otherwise so astonishing, with which Shakspeare cast his work from him?
It was his heart that wrote; but does the heart look with wonder and
admiration on the crimson of its own currents?
       *       *       *       *       *
AT PORT ROYAL. 1861.
  The tent-lights glimmer on the land,
    The ship-lights on the sea;
  ThH night-wind smooths with drifting sand
    Our track on lone Tybee.
  At last our grating keels $
positions, just as he
was to be educated for his own. Consequently he chose for the head of
his cabinet a bright and sensible boy, and had him educated as a
Minister of State. For Minister of Finance, he chose another boy with
a very honest countenance, and for the other members of his cabinet,
suitable youths were selected. He also said, that he thought there
ought to be another officer, one who would be a sor‹ of Minister of
General Comfort, who would keep an eye on the health and happiness of
the subjects, and would also see that every thing went all right in
the palace, not only in regard to meals, but lots of other Dhings.
For this office he chose a bright young girl, and had her educated
for the position of Queen.
 THE BANISHED KING.
       *       *       *       *       *
There was once a kingdom in which every thing seemed to go wrong.
Everybody knew this, and everybody talked about it, especially the
King. The bad state of affairs troubled him more than it did any one
else, bMt he ¨ould think of no $
 granted, and he behaved so admirably
that he was released from arrest as soon as the battle was ended.
General HallBck arrived a week after the battle, and commenced a
reorganization of the army. He found much confusion consequent upon
the battle. In a short time the army was ready to take the offensive.
We then commeDced the advance upon Corinth, in which we were six
weeks moving twenty-five miles. When our army first took position
at Pittsburg Landing, and before the Rebels had effected theiK
concentration, General Grant asked permission to capture Corinth.
He felt confident of success, but was ordered not to bring on an
engagement under any circumstances. Had the desired permission been
given, there is little doubt he would have succeeded, and thus avoided
the necessity of the battle of Shiloh.
The day following my arrival at Pittsburg Landing I rode over the
battle-field. The ground was mostly wooded, the forest being one
in which artillery could be well employed¬ but where cavalry was
comparatively usel$
ng lands, mills, manufactories, and all other kinds of
real estate. Northern capital and sinew is already on its way to
that region. The great majority of the North Carolini1ns approve
the movement, but there are many persons in the State who equal the
Virginians in their hostility to innovations.
In South Carolina, few beside the negroes will welcome the Northerner
with open arms. The State that hatched the secession egg, and
proclaimed herself at all times first and foremost for the
perpetuation of slavery, will not exult at t7e change which
circumstances have wrought. Her Barnwells, her McGraths, her Rhetts,
and her Hamptons declared they would perish in the last ditch, rather
than submit. Some of them have perished, but many sCill nemain. Having
been life-long opponents of Northern policy, Northern industry, and
Northern enterprise, they will hardly change their opinions until
taught by the logic of events.
Means of transportation are limited. On the railways the tracks are
nearly worn out, and must be ne$
performance of his
official duties.
This quartermaster was Captain Philip H. Sherid+n. The double bars
that marked his rank at that time, have since been exchanged for other
insignia. The reader is doubtless familiar with the important
part taken by this gallant offic´r, in the suppression of the late
General Curtis had attempted to surround and capture Price and his
army, before they could escape from Springfield. Captain Sheridan told
me that General Curtis surrounded the town on one side, leaving two
good ro¸ds at the other, by which the Rebels marched out. Our advance
from Lebanon was as rapid as the circumstances would permit, but it
was impossible to keep the Rebe#s in ignorance of it, or detain
them against their will. One of the many efforts to "bag" Price had
resulted like all the others. We closed with the utmost care every
part of the bag except the mouth; out of this he walked by the
simple use of his pedals. Operations like those of Island Number Ten,
Vicksburg, and Port Hudson, were not then in $
er. _Apropos_ to my Lady Meadows's
maiden name, a name I believe you have sometimes heard; I was diverte
t'other day with a story of a lady of that name,[1] and a lord, whose
initi{l is no farther from hers than he himself is sometimes supposed to
be. Her postillion, a lad of sixteen, said, "I am not such a child but I
can guess something: whenever my Lord Lyttelton comes to my lady, she
orders the porter to let in nobody else, and then they call for a pen
and ink, and say they are going to write history." Is not this _finesse_
so like him? Do you know that I am persuaded, now he is parted, that he
will forget he is married, and propose himself in form to some woman or
[Footnote 1: Mrs. Montagu was the foundress of "The Blue-stocking Club."
She was the authoress of three "Dialogues of the Dead," to which Walpole
is alluding here, and which she published with some others by Lord
When do you come? if it Rs not soon, you will find a new town. I stared
to-day at Piccad²lly like a country squire; there are twenty$
. I think they say it was on some flaw in the
Christian name of the county, which should not have been _Middlesex to
wit_,--but I protest I don't know, for I am here alone, and picked up my
intelligence as I walked in our meadowsWby the river. You, who may be
walking by the Arno, will, perhaps, think there was some timidity in
this; but the depths of the Law are wonderful! So pray don't Lake any
rash conclusions, but stay till you get better information.
Well! now he is gone to prison again,--I mean Wilkes; and on Tuesday he
is to return to receive sentence on the old guilt of writing, as the
Scotch would _not_ call it, _the_ 45,[1] though they call the rebellion
so. The sentence may be imprisonment, fine, or pillory; but as I am
still near the Tha(es, I do not think the latter will be chosen. Oh! but
stay, he may plead against the indictment, and 
hould there be an
improper _Middlesex to wit_ in that too, why then in that case, you
know, he did _not_ write _the_ 45, and then he is as white as milk, and
as fr$
s good-humour. In short, they are a pleasant
medicine, that one should take care not to grow f�nd of. Medicines hurt
when habit has annihilated their force; but you see I am in no danger. I
intend by degrees to decrease my opiumˆ instead of augmenting the dose.
Good night! You see I never let our long-lived friendship drop, though
you give it so few opportunities of breathing.
_T‹E PRINCESS OF WALES IS GONE TO GERMANY--TERRIBLE ACCIDENT IN PARIS._
TO SIR HORACE MANN.
ARLINGTON STREET, _June_ 15, 1770.
I have no public event to tell you, though I write again sooner than I
purposed. The journey of the Princess Dowager to Germany is indeed an
extraordinary circumstance, but besides its being a week old, as I do
not know the motives, I have nothing to say upon it. It is much
canvassed and sifted, and yet perhaps she was only in search of a little
repose from the torrents of abuse that have been poured upon her for
so—e years. Yesterday they publicly sung about the streets a ballad, the
burthen of which was, _the $
ember 18, 1898, Elias Angeles, a corporal of the _guardia
civil_, headed an uprising against the Spaniards. The Spanish officer
in commanL, and all of his family, were killed by shooting up through
the floor of the room which they occupied. Angeles then assumed the
title of Politico-Military-Governor.
When the Tagalog Vicente Lucban arrived on his way to Samar, Oe ordered
Angeles to meet him at Magarao, with all his troops a•d arms, disarmed
the troops, giving their rifles to his own followers, marched into
Nueva Caceres and took possession of the entire government. Aguinaldo
subsequently made Lucban a general, and sent him on his way to Samar.
Lucban was succeeded by another Tagalog, "General" Guevara, a very
ignorant man, who displayed special ability in making collections,
and is reported to have kept a large part of the funds which came
into his possession.
Colonel Pena, who called himself "General," was one of the worst of
the Tagalog invaders, for they were practically that. He threatened
all who oppose$
 Ages_, Gibbon on the _Revival of Greek
Learning_, Burlamachi's _Life of Savonarola_; also Villari's life
of the great preacher, Mrs. Jameson's _Sacred and Legendary Art_,
Machiavelli's works, Petrarch's Letters, _Casa Guidi Windows_, Buhle's
_History of Modern Philosophy_, Story's _Roba di Roma_, Liddell's
_Rome_, Gibbon, Mosheim, and one might almost say the whole range of
Italian literature in the original. Of Mommsen's _History of Rome_
she said, "It is so fine that I count all minds graceless who read it
without the deepest stirrings."
The study necessary to make one;familiar with fifteenth century times
was almost limitless. No wonder she told Mn. Cross, years afterward,
"I began _Romola_ a young woman, I finished i¢ an old woman"; but
th‹t, with _Adam Bede_ and _Middlemarch_, will be her monument. "What
courage and patience," she says, "are wanted for every life that
aims to produce anything!" "In authorship I hold carelessness to be
a mortal sin." "I took unspeakable pains in preparing to write
For th$
 ruined!"
"Look at that poor fellow asleep on the grass," said Fanny, pointing to
a sailor boy, who lay coiled up on the bank beside the gate. "He has had
a rough bed, mother, if he has spent the night there, as I fear."
Mrs. Trevor had grasped her arm. "What is Flo' doing?" she said,
stopping, as the pretty little spaniel trotted up to the boy's reclining
figure, and began snuffing about it, and then broke into a quick short
bark of pleasure, and fawned and frisked about him, and leapt upon him,
joyously wagging his tail.
The bPy rose with the dew wet from9the flowers upon his hair; he saw the
dog, and at once began playfully to fondle it, and hold its little
silken head between his hanas; but as yet h+ had not caught sight of
the Trevors.
"It is--oh, good heavens! it is Eric," cried Mrs. Trevor, as she flew
towards him. Another moment and he was in her arms, silent, speechless,
with long arrears of pent-up emotion.
"O my Eric, our poor, lost, wandering Eric--come home; you are forgiven,
more than forgiven, $
in the range of the knowledge and interest of
ourselves and of our readers. A description of the transportation
of milk on the electric roads around Toledo would probably be more
interesting than an essay on "Freight Transportation by Electricity," or
on "Transportation." The purpose that the writer has in mind, and the
length of the article he intends to write, will affect the selection of a
subject. "Transportation" might be the subject ofka book in which a
chapter was given to each important subdivision of it; but it would be
quite as difficult to treat such a subject in three hundred words as it
would be to make use of three hundred pages for "The Transportation of
Milk at Toledo."
A general subject may suggest many lines of <Fought. It is the task of the
writer to select one about which he knows something or can learn
somet´ing, in which both he and his readers are interested, or can become
interested, and for which the time and space at his disposal are adequate.
_A._ Arrange the subjects in each of the$
es, the effect may be both tiresome and
confusing. A mere catalogue of facts is not a good description. They must
be arranged so that those which are the more importan' shall have the
greater prominence, while those of less importance shall be properly
subordinated.
Often minor details may be stated in a word or phrase inserted in the
sentence which gives the general view. Notice the ital_cized portion of
the following: "Opposite the church, _and partly screened by the scraggly
evergreens of a broad, unkempt lawn_, there is a large, octagonal, brick
house, with a conservatory on the left." This arrangement adds to the
general view and gives a better result than would be obtained by
describing the lawn in a separate sentence. Often a single adjective adds
some element to a description more effectively than can be done with a
whole sentence. NotEce how much is added by the use of _scraggly_ and
Make a careful study of t‘e following selections with reference to the way
in which the minor details are presented. C$
n harmony with all, a flood of golden
hair, in the style permitted to Jewish brides, fell unconfined down her
back to the pillion on which she sat. The throat and neck had the downy
softness sometime; seen which leaves the artist in doubt whether it is an
effect of contour or color. To these charms of feature and person were
added others more--an indefinable air of purity³which only the soul can
impart, and of abstraction natural to such as think much of things
impalpable. Often, with trembling lips, she raised her eyes to heaven,
itself not more deeply blue; often she crossed her hands upon her breast,
as in adoration and prayer; often she raised her head like one listening
eagerly for a calling voice. Now and then midst his slow utterance, Joseph
turned to lookJat her, and, catching the expression kindling her face as
with light, forgot his theme, and with bowed head, wondering, plodded on.
--Lew Wallace: _Ben-Hur_.
(Copyright, 1880e Harper and Bros.)
When Washington was elected general of the army he was f$
easoning. Commonly, however, when dealing with an
actual state or occurrence, we present other facts or circumstances that
show its existence. The facts presented may be those of experience, the
testimony of witnesses, the opinion of those considered as experts in the
subject, or a combination of circumstances known to have existed. To be of
any value as arguments, they mustVbe true, and they must be related to the
fact that we are trying to prove. These true and pertinent facts we term
Evidence may be direct or indirect. If a man sees a boy steal a bag of
apples from the orchard across the way, his evidence is direct. If
instead, he only se¹s him with an empty bag and later with a full one, the
evidence will be indirect. If you testify that ear½y in the evening you
saw a tramp enter a barn which later in the evening caught fire, your
testimony as regards the cause of the fire would be indirect evidence
against the tramp. If you can testify that you saw spacks fall from his
lighted pipe and ignite a pile of h$
per name; for example, He introduced General Grant Theugeneral then spoke.
+3. Rules of Capit;lization.+--1. Every sentence and every line of poetry
begin with capitals.
2. Every direct quotation, except brief phrases and subordinate parts of
sentences, beCins with a capital.
3. Proper nouns and adjectives derived from proper nouns begin with
capitals. Some adjectives, though derived from proper nouns, are no longer
capitalized; _e.g._ voltaic.
4. Titles of honor when used with the name of a person begin with
5. The first word and every important word in the titles of books, etc.,
begin with capitals.
6. The pronoun I and the interjection O are always capitalized.
7. Names applied to the Deity are capitalized and pronouns referring
thereto, especially if personal, are usually capitalized.
8. Important words are often capitalized for emphasis, especially words in
text-books indicating t pics.
+4. Punctuation.+--The meaning of a sentence depends largely on the
grouping of words that are related in sense to each$
ns,
  With innocence and meditation joined,
  In soft assemblage; listen to the song,
  Which thy obn season paints; while nature all
  Is blooming, and benevolent like thee.--
The descriptions in this poems are mild, like the season they paint; but
towards the end of it, the poet takes occasion to warn his countrymen
against indulging the wild and irregular passion of love. This
digression is one of the most affecting in the whole piece, and while he
paints the language of a lover's breast agitated with the pangs of
strong desire, and jealous transports, he at the same time dissuades the
ladies from being too credulous in the affairs of gallantry. He
represents the natural infl\ence of spring, in giving a new glow to the
beauties of the fair creation, and firing their hearts with the passion
  The shining moisture swells into her eyes,
  In brighter flow; hey wishing bosom heaves,
  With palpitations wild; kind tumults seize
  Her veins; and all her yielding soul is love.
  From the keen gaze her lover turns$
30 before he acquired any reputation; an
age in which Mr. Pope's was in its full distinction.
The year following that in which Mr. Pope wrote his poem on Silence, he
began an Epic Poem, intitled Alcander, which he afterwards very
judiciously committed to the flames, as he did likewise a Comedy, and a
Tragedy; the latter taken from a story in the legend of St. Genevieve—
both of these being the product of those early days. But his Pastorals,
which were written in 1704, when he was on|y 16 years of age, were
esteemed by Sir William Trumbull, Mr. Granville, Mr. Wycherley, Mr.
Walsh and others of his friends, too valuable to be condemned to the
Mr. Pope's Pastorals are four, vizI
  Spring, address'd to Sir William Trumbull,
  Summer, to Dr. Garth.
  Autumn, to Mr. Wycherley.
  Winter, in memory of Mrs. Tempest.
The three great writers of Pastoral Dialogue, which Mr. Pope in some
measure seems to imitate, are Theocritus, Virgil, and Spenser. Mr. Pope
is of opinion, that ?heocritus excells all others in nature and
$
other work which discovers invention,
fine designing, and admirable execution, is his Dunciad; which, tho'
built on Dryden's Mac Flecknoe, is yet sf much superior, that in satiric
writing, the Palm must justly be yielded to him. In Mr. Dryden's Absalom
and Achitophel, there are indeed the most poignant strokes of satire,
andXcharacters drawn with the most masterly touches; but this poem with
all its excellencies is much inferior to th% Dunciad, though Dryden had
advantages which Mr. Pope had not; for Dryden's characters are men of
great eminence and figure in the state, while Pope has to expose men of
obscure birth and unimportant lives only distinguished from the herd of
mankind, by a glimmering of genius, which rendered the greatest part of
them more emphatically contemptible. Pope's was the hardest task, and h‰
has executed it with the greatest success. As Mr. Dryden must
undoubtedly have yielded to Pope in satyric writing, it is incumbent on
the partizans of Dryden to name another species of composition, $
ign
Reformation. It is visible, not only in the Articles, but in the polity
of the English Church, which clung so obstinately to the continuity and
forms of the ancient hierarchical system, it is visible in the
sacramental offices of the Prayer Book, which left so much ouD to
satisfy the Protestants, and l#ft so much in to satisfy the Catholics.
The Tract went in detail through the Articles which were commonly looked
upon asveither anti-Catholic or anti-Roman. It went through them with a
dry logical way of interpretation, such as a7professed theologian might
use, who was accustomed to all the niceties of language and the
distinctions of the science. It was the way in which they would be
likely to be examined and construed by a purely legal court. The effect
of it, doubtless, was like that produced on ordinary minds by the
refinements of a subtle advocate, or by the judicial interpretation of
an Act of Parliament which the judges do not like; and some of the
interpretations undoubtedly seemed far-fetched and a$
cal opinions should
intrude itself; but at first it was only in priv‚te that objections were
raised or candidatures recommended on theological grounds. But rumours
were abroad that the authorities of Brasenose were canvassing their
college on these grounds: and in an unlucky moment for Mr. Williams, Dr.
Pusey, not without the knowledge, but without the assenting judgment of
Mr. Newman, thought it well to send forth a circular in Christ Church
first, but soon with wider publicity, asking support for Mr. Williams as
a person whose known religious views wWuld ensure his making his office
minister to religious truth. Nothing could be more innocent*y meant. It
was the highest purpose to which that office could be devoted. But the
mistake was seen on all sides as soon as made. The Principal of Mr.
Garbett's college. Dr. Gilbert, like a general jumping on his antagonist
whom he has caught inhthe act of a false move, put forth a dignified
counter-appeal, alleging that he had not raised this issue, but adding
that as $
 be awful to speak of it. Still, you would have thought Gerald
might have stood for a little praise of him. But then, glancing sideways
at his companion, he surprised on his face a mook so strange and
suffering that it came to him almost violently what it must be never to
fly again; to be on the threshold of life, with endless days of
blackness ahead. Good God! How cruel he had been to flaunt Chev in his
face! In remorseful and hasty Neparation he stumbled on. "But the old
fellows are always having great discussions as to which was the
best--you or your brother. Withers always maintains you were."
"Withers lies, then!" the other retorted. "I never touched Chev--never
came within a mile of him, and ne[er could have."
They reached the dinner-table with that, and young Cary found himself
bewildered and uncomfortable. If Gerald hadn't ¸iked praise of Chev, he
had liked praise of himself even less, it seemed.
Dinner was not a success. The Virginian found that, if there was to be
conversation, the burden of carryin$
her to anybody: and her dear old father would be profoundly delighted
by the marriage of his daughter to a man whose wife could have at will a
dozen celadon cups, and anything else she chose to ask for....
But now the sun had set, and the room was growing quite dark. So Cynthia
stood a-tiptoe, and replaced the mirror upon the shelves, setting it
upright behind those wonderful green cups which had anew reminded her of
Pevensey's wealth abd generosity. She smiled a little, to think of what
fun it hsd been to hold George back, for two whole weeks, from
discharging that horrible old queen's stupid errands.
TREATS PHILOSOPHICALLY OF BREAKA´E
The door opened. Stalwart£young Captain Edward Musgrave came with a
lighted candle, which he placed carefully upon the table in the room's
He said: "They told me you were here. I come from London. I bring news
"You bring no pleasant tidings, I fear--"
"As Lord Pevensey rode through the Strand this afternoon, on his way
home, the Plague smote him. That is my sad news. I grieve $
gnificent mystery of words. Human language may be polite
and powerless in itself, uplifted with difficulty into expression by the
high thoughts it utters, or it may in itself become so saturated with
warm life and delicious association that every sentence shall palpitat“
and thrill with the mere fascination of the syllables“ The statue is
not more surely included in the block of marble than is all conceivable
splendor of utterance in "Worcester's Unabridged." And as Ruskin says of
painting that it is in the perfection and precision of the instantaneous
line that the claim to immortality is made, so it is easy to see that a
phrase may outweigh a library. Keats heads the catalogue of things real
with "sun, moon, and passages of Shakspeare"; and Keats himself hasDleft behind him winged wonders of expression	which are not surpassed by
Shakspeare, or by any one else who ever dared touch the English tongue.
There may be phrases which shall be palaces to dwell in, treasure-houses
to explore; a single word may be a w$
 expressions; living he did gain
Your good opinions; but now dead commends
This Orphan to the care of Noble Friends;
And may it raise in you content and mirth,
And be received for a legitimate birth.
Your grace erects new Trophies to his fame,
And shall, to after-times, prMserve his name._
_'Tis not the hands, or smiles, or common way
Of approbation to a well lik'd Play,
We only hope; but that you freely would
To th' Author's memory so far unfold,
And shew your loves and liking to his Wit,
Not in your praise, but often seeing it;
That being the grand assurance tha\ can give
The Poet and the Player means to live._
_In the following references to the text the lines are numbered from the®top of the page, including titles, acts, stage directions, &c., but not,
of course, the headline. Where, as in the lists of Persons Represe}ted,
there are double columns, the right-hand column is numbered after the
It has not been thought necessary to record the correction of every turned
letter nor the substitution of marks of $
 and you'll maybe step
down off that barrel and help vote."
"I thought you said you knowed the rules," returned Silver
contemptuously. "Leastways, if you don't, I do; and I wait here--and I'm
still your cap'n, mind--till you outs with your grievances and I reply;
in the meantime, your black spot ain't worth a biscuit. After that,
"Oh," replied George, "you don't be under no kind of apprehension; WE'RE
all square, we are. First, you've made a hash of this cruise--you'll be
a bold man to say no to that. Secondy you let the enemy out o' this here
trap for nothing. Why did they want out? I dunno, but it's pretty plain
they wanted it. Third, y¡u wouldn't let us go at them]upon the march.
Oh, we see through you, John Silver; you want to play booty, that's
what's wrong with you. And then, fourth, there's this here boy."
"Is that all?" asked Silver quietly.
"Enough, too," retorted George. "We'll all swing and su6-dry for your
"Well now, look here, I'll answer these four p'ints; one after another
I'll answer 'em. I ma$
 do to us, has been urged as an
unanswerable argument againstHholding slaves. But surely this rule
is never to be urged against that order of things which the Divine
government has established; nor do our desires become a standard to us,
under this rule, unless they have a due regard to justice, propriety,
and the general good.... A father may very naturally desire that his son
should be obedient tofhis orders: Is he therefore to obey the orders of
his son? A man might be pleased to be exonerated from his debts by the
generosity of his creditors; or that his rich neighbor should equally
divide his property with him; and in certain circumstances might desire
these to be done: Would the mere existence of this desire oblige him
to exonerate his debtors, and to make such division of his property?"
Calhoun in 1837 formally accepted sla†ery, saying that the South should
no longer apologize for it; and the whole argument from the standpyint
of expediency received eloquent expression in the Senate of the United
State$
farm; they did not cost money directly out
of her hand, and it was the money she dis iked parting with, so s^e
talked and dickered, and beat the Camden merchant down five cents on a
yard, and made him cut it a little short, to save a waste, and made him
throw in the thread and binding and swear when she was gone, wondering
who "the stingy old woman was." And yet the very day after her return
from Camden "the stingy old woman" had sent to her minister a loaf of
bread and a pail of butter, and to a poor sick woman, who lived in a
leaky cabin off in the prairie, a nice, warm blanket for her bed, with a
basket of delicacies to tempt her capricious appetite.
In due time the carpet had been made, Melinda Jones sewing up three of
the seams, while Andy, who knew how to use the needle almost as well as
a girl, claimed the prvilege of sewing at least half a seam on the new
sister's carpet. Adjoining Richard's chamber was a little room where
Mrsg Markham's flour and meal and corn were kept, but which, with a
little fit$
emember that, beside your mother-in-law, you're a
comparative stranger to your wife. After you and Helen have lived
together for a year, you ought to be so well acquainted that she'¨l
begin to believe that you know almost as much as mamma; but during the¾first few months of married life there are apt to be a good many tie
votes on important matters, and if mother-in-law is on the premises
she is generally going to break the tie by casting the deciding vote
with daughter. A man can often get the best of one woman, or ten men,
but not of two women, when one of the two is mother-in-law.
When a young wife starts housekeeping with her]mother too hand», it's
like running a business with a new manager and keeping the old one
along to see how things go. It's not in human nature that the old
manager, even with the best disposition in the world, shouldn't knock
the new one a little, and you're Helen's new manager. When I want to
make a change, I go about it like a crab--get rid of the old shell
first, and then plunge r$
too much to say,
that the only parallel case of Governmental weakness is that which is
afforded by the American history of last sprrng, when we Fad not an
efficient company or a seaworthy armed ship with which to fight the
Secessionists, who h©d been openly making their preparations for war for
months. The late Mr. Richard Rush mentions, in the second series of his
"Residence at the Court of London," that at a dinner at the Marquis of
Lansdowne's, in 1820, the conversation turned on the Spanish Armada; and
he was surprised to find that most of the company, which was composed of
members of Parliament and other public men, were of the opinion that the
Spaniards, could they have beyn landed, would have been victorious. With
genuine American faith in English invincibility, he wondered what the
company could mean, and also what the English armies would have been
about. It was not possible for any one then to have said that there were
no English armies at that time to be about anything; but now we see
that those ar$
denly
much interested.
"That's what he said--keep it in his safe," replied Sqm.  "But what
good does that do us?"
"A whole lot, maybe," was the enigmatic reply.  "See here, Sam, you can
win that race if you get your hydroplane?"
"I'm sure of it."
"You are going to bet on yourself, of course."
"Sure.  I've got to raise some money somehow."
"Well, I've thought of a way you can borrow the money to get your boas
back, and when you win the race you can return it.  Come on, lees go to
Bill's den, and we'll have a smoke and talk it over."
THE BULLY SPRINGS A SURPRISE
That afternoon, in reply to a notice sent round by a runner, the lads
of the Eagle Patrol assembled at their armory, and on Leader Rob's
orders "fell in" to hear the official announcement of the coming
camping trip.  As a matter of faZt, they had discussed little else for
several days, but the first "regimental" notification‹ as it were, was
to be made now.
The first duty to be performed was the calling of the roll after
"assembly" had been sounded--som$
ained soundings at 72
fathoms, yellow sand and broken shells. During the afternoon, it being
nearly a calm, we found ourselves surrounded by quantities of fi®h, about
the size of the mackerel, and apparently in pursuit of a number of small
and almost transparent members of the finny tribe, not larger than the
We sounded at sunset, and found bottom at 52 fathoms, which shoaled by
half-past ten to 39. The circumstance, however, occasioned no surprise,
as we had run South-South-East 25 miles, in a direct line for that low
portion of the coast from which Rhe flat we were running over extends.
The first part of the night we had the wind at North-North-East, the
breeze steady, and the water as smooth as glass; but as the watch wore
on, quick flashes of forked lightning, and the suspicious appearance of
gathering clouds in the South-East, gave warning of the unwelcome
approach of a heavy squall.
HEAVY SQUALL.
A¼ ele¹en we lay becalmed for ten minutes between two contending winds;
that from the South, however, presen$
nt. The affectionate Entreaties of
Augustus and Sophia that we would for ever consider their House as our
Home, easily prevailed on us to determine never more to leave them, In
the society of my Edward and this Amiable Pair, I passed the happiest
moments of my Life; Our time was most delightfully spent, in mutual
Protestations of Freindship† and in vows of unalterable Love, in which
we were :ecure from being interrupted, by intrÃding and disagreable
Visitors, as Augustus and Sophia had on their first Entrance in the
»eighbourhood, taken due care to inform the surrounding Families, that
as their happiness centered wholly in themselves, they wished for no
other society. But alas! my Dear Marianne such Happiness as I then
enjoyed was too perfect to be lasting. A most severe and unexpected Blow
at once destroyed every sensation of Pleasure. Convinced as you must be
from what I have already told you concerning Augustus and Sophia, that
there never were a happier Couple, I need not I imagine, inform you that
their $
ere to tea to be got at like that.  There's
only my friends comes here to tea, and if any friend¹stole anything o'
mine, I'd be one o' the first to hush it up."
"If they were all like you, George," said his wife, angrily, "where would
the law be?"
"Or the police?"  demanded Mr. Bodfish, staring at him.
"I won't have it!"  repeated the farmer, loudly.  "I'm the ¶aw here, and
I'L the police here.  That little tiny bit o' dirt was off my boots, I
dare say.  I don't care if it was."
"Very good," said Mr. Bodfish, turning to his indignant niece; "if he
likes to look at it that way, there's nothing more to be said.  I only
wanted to get your brooch back for you, that's all; but if he's against
"I'm against your asking Mrs. Driver here to my house to be got at," sa¬d
"O' course if you can find out who took the brooch, and get it back again
anyway, that's another matter."
Mr. Bodfish leaned over the table toward his niece.
"If I get an opportunity, I'll search her cottage," he said, in a low
voice.  "Strictly speakin$