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+ <title>
+ The Project Gutenberg eBook of Blackwood'S Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 53, No. 331.
+ </title>
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+<body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12263 ***</div>
+
+<h1>BLACKWOOD'S EDINBURGH MAGAZINE</h1>
+<hr />
+
+<h2>NO. CCCXXXI. MAY, 1843. VOL. LIII.</h2>
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+<ul>
+ <li><a href="#bw329s1">DUMAS IN ITALY</a></li>
+ <li><a href="#bw329s2">AMMAL&Aacute;T BEK. A TRUE TALE OF THE CAUCASUS FROM THE
+ RUSSIAN OF MARL&Iacute;NSKI</a></li>
+ <li><a href="#bw329s3">REYNOLDS'S DISCOURSES. CONCLUSION</a></li>
+ <li><a href="#bw329s4">LEAP-YEAR.&mdash;A TALE</a></li>
+ <li><a href="#bw329s5">THE BATTLE OF THE BLOCKS. The PAVING QUESTION</a></li>
+ <li><a href="#bw329s6">POEMS AND BALLADS OF SCHILLER.&mdash;No. VIII.</a></li>
+ <li><a href="#bw329s7">NATURAL HISTORY OF SALMON AND SEA-TROUT</a></li>
+ <li><a href="#bw329s8">CALEB STUKELY. PART THE LAST</a></li>
+ <li><a href="#bw329s9">COMMERCIAL POLICY. SPAIN</a></li>
+ <li><a href="#bw329-footnotes">[FOOTNOTES]</a></li>
+</ul>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+
+<!-- page 551 --><a name="bw329s1" id="bw329s1"></a><h2>DUMAS IN ITALY.</h2>
+
+<blockquote class="note">
+[<i>Souvenirs de Voyage en Italie, par</i> ALEXANDRE DUMAS. 5 vols. duod.]
+</blockquote>
+<hr />
+
+<p>France has lately sent forth her
+poets in great force, to travel, and to
+write travels. Delamartine, Victor
+Hugo, Alexandre Dumas, and others,
+have been forth in the high-ways and
+the high-seas, observing, portraying,
+poetizing, romancing. The last-mentioned
+of these, M. Dumas, a dramatist
+very ingenious in the construction
+of plots, and one who tells a story
+admirably, has travelled quite in character.
+There is a dramatic air thrown
+over all his proceedings, things happen
+as pat as if they had been rehearsed,
+and he blends the novelist
+and tourist together after a very bold
+and original fashion. It is a new
+method of writing travels that he has
+hit upon, and we recommend it to the
+notice of our countrymen or countrywomen,
+who start from home with the
+fixed idea, happen what may, of inditing
+a book. He does not depend
+altogether upon the incidents of the
+road, or the raptures of sight-seeing,
+or any odd fantasy that buildings or
+scenery may be kind enough to suggest:
+he provides himself with full
+half of his materials before he starts,
+in the shape of historical anecdote and
+romantic story, which he distributes
+as he goes along. A better plan for
+an amusing book could not be devised.
+Your mere tourist, it must be confessed,
+however frivolous he submits
+for our entertainment to become,
+grows heavy on our hands; that rapid
+and incessant change of scene which
+is kindly meant to enliven our spirits,
+becomes itself wearisome, and we long
+for some resting-place, even though it
+should be obtained by that most illegitimate
+method of closing the volume.
+On the other hand, a teller of tales
+has always felt the want of some enduring
+thread&mdash;though, as some one
+says in a like emergency, it be only
+<i>packthread</i>&mdash;on which his tales may
+be strung&mdash;something to fill up the
+pauses, and prevent the utter solution
+of continuity between tale and tale&mdash;something
+that gives the narrator a reasonable
+plea for <i>going on again</i>, and
+makes the telling another story an indispensable
+duty upon his part, and the
+listening to it a corresponding obligation
+upon ours; and ever since the time
+when that young lady of unpronounceable
+and unrememberable name told
+the One Thousand and One Tales,
+telling a fragment every morning to
+keep her head upon her shoulders,
+there has been devised many a strange
+expedient for this purpose. Now, M.
+Dumas has contrived, by uniting the
+two characters of tourist and novelist,
+to make them act as reliefs to each
+other. Whilst he shares with other
+travellers the daily adventures of the
+road&mdash;the journey, the sight, and the
+dinner&mdash;he is not compelled to be
+always moving; he can pause when
+he pleases, and, like the <i>fableur</i> of
+olden times, sitting down in the market-place,
+in the public square, at the
+corner of some column or statue, he
+narrates his history or his romance.
+Then, the story told, up starts the
+busy and provident tourist; lo! the
+<I>voiture</I> is waiting for him at the hotel;
+in he leaps, and we with him, and off
+we rattle through other scenes, and to
+other cities. He has a track <I>in space</I>
+to which he is bound; we recognize
+the necessity that he should proceed
+thereon; but he can diverge at pleasure
+through all <I>time</I>, bear us off into
+what age he pleases, make us utterly
+oblivious of the present, and lap us in
+the Elysium of a good story.</p>
+
+<p>With a book written palpably for
+the sole and most amiable purpose of
+amusement, and succeeding in this
+purpose, how should we deal? How
+but receive it with a passive acquiescence
+equally amiable, content solely
+to be amused, and giving all severer
+criticism&mdash;to him who to his other
+merits may add, if he pleases, that of
+being the first critic. Most especially
+let us not be carping and questioning as
+to the how far, or what precisely, we
+are to set down for <I>true</I>. It is all
+true&mdash;it is all fiction; the artist cannot
+choose but see things in an artistical
+form; what ought not to be there
+drops from his field of vision. We
+are not poring through a microscope,
+or through a telescope, to discover
+new truths; we are looking at the old
+landscape through coloured glasses,
+blue, or black, or roseate, as the occasion
+may require. And here let us
+note a favourable contrast between
+our dramatic tourist, bold in conception,
+free in execution, and those compatriots
+of our own, authors and authoresses,
+who write travels merely because
+they are artists in ink, yet without
+any adequate notion of the duties
+and privileges of such an artist.</p>
+
+<p>When a writer has got a name,
+the first rational use to make of the
+charming possession is to get astride
+of it, as a witch upon her broomstick,
+and whisk and scamper over half the
+kingdoms of the earth. Talk of bills
+of exchange!--letters of credit!--we
+can put our name to a whole book,
+and it will pass&mdash;it <I>will</I> pass. The
+idea is good&mdash;quite worthy of our
+commercial genius&mdash;and to us its origin,
+we believe, is due; but here, as in
+so many other cases, the Frenchman
+has given the idea its full development.
+Keeping steadily in view the
+object of his book, which is&mdash;first,
+amusement&mdash;secondly, amusement&mdash;thirdly,
+amusement; he adapts his
+means consistently to his end. Does
+he want a dialogue?&mdash;he writes one:
+a story?&mdash;he invents one: a description?&mdash;he
+takes his hint from
+nature, and is grateful&mdash;the more
+grateful, because he knows that a hint
+to the wise is sufficient. It is the
+description only which the reader will
+be concerned with; what has he to
+do with the object? That is the
+merely traveller's affair. Now, your
+English tourists have always a residue
+of scruple about them which balks
+their genius. Not satisfied with pleasing,
+they aspire to be believed; are
+almost angry if their anecdote is not
+credited; content themselves with
+adding graces, giving a turn, trimming
+and decorating&mdash;cannot build a structure
+boldly from the bare earth. This
+necessity of finding a certain straw for
+their bricks, which must be picked up
+by the roadside, not only impedes the
+work of authorship, but must add
+greatly to their personal discomfort
+throughout the whole of their travels.
+They are in perpetual chase of something
+for the book. They bag an
+incident with as much glee as a sportsman
+his first bird in September. They
+are out on pleasure, but manifestly
+they have their task too; it is not quite
+holiday, only half-holiday with them.
+The prospect or the picture gives no
+pleasure till it has suggested the appropriate
+expression of enthusiasm,
+which, once safely deposited in the
+note-book, the enthusiasm itself can
+be quietly indulged in, or permitted
+to evaporate. At the dinner-table,
+even when champagne is circulating,
+if a jest or a story falls flat, they see
+with an Aristotelian precision the
+cause of its failure, and how an additional
+touch, or a more auspicious
+moment, would have procured for it a better
+fate; they stop to pick it up,
+they clean it, they revolve the chapter
+and the page to which it shall lend its
+lustre. Nay, it is noticeable, that
+without much labour from the polisher,
+many a dull thing in conversation has
+made a good thing in print; the conditions
+of success are so different.
+Now, from all such toils and perplexities
+M. Dumas is evidently free;
+free as the wildest Oxonian who flies
+abroad in the mere wanton prodigality
+of spirits and of purse. His book is
+made, or can be made, when he
+chooses: fortune favours the bold,
+and incidents will always dispose
+themselves dramatically to the dramatist.</p>
+
+<p>Our traveller opens his campaign at
+Nice. It may be observed that M.
+Dumas cannot be accused, like the
+present minister of his country, of any
+partiality to the English; if the mortifying
+truth must be told, he has no
+love of us at all; to which humour,
+so long as he delivers himself of it
+with any wit or pleasantry, he is
+heartily welcome. Our first extract
+will be thought, perhaps, to taste of
+this humour; but we quote it for the
+absurd proof it affords of the manner
+in which we English have overflooded
+some portions of the Continent:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;As to the inhabitants of Nice, every
+traveller is to them an Englishman.
+Every foreigner they see, without distinction
+of complexion, hair, beard,
+dress, age, or sex, has, in their imagination,
+arrived from a certain mysterious
+city lost in the midst of fogs,
+where the inhabitants have heard of
+the sun only from tradition, where the
+orange and the pine-apple are unknown
+except by name, where there is no ripe
+fruit but baked apples, and which is
+called <I>London</I>.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Whilst I was at the York Hotel, a
+carriage drawn by post horses drove
+up; and, soon after, the master of the
+hotel entering into my room, I asked
+him who were his new arrivals.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'<I>Sono certi Inglesi</I>,' he answered,
+'<I>ma non saprei dire se sono Francesi o
+Tedeschi</I>. Some English, but I cannot
+say whether French or German.'&quot;&mdash;Vol.
+i. p. 9.</p></div>
+
+<p>The little town of Monaco is his
+next resting-place. This town, which
+is now under the government of the
+King of Sardinia, was at one time an
+independent principality; and M.
+Dumas gives a lively sketch of the
+vicissitudes which the little state has
+undergone, mimicking, as it has, the
+movements of great monarchies, and
+being capable of boasting even of its
+revolution and its republic. During
+the reign of Louis XIV. the territory
+of Monaco gave the title of prince to a
+certain Honore III., who was under
+the protection of the <I>Grand Monarque</I>.</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;The marriage of this Prince of Monaco,&quot;
+says our annalist, &quot;was not happy.
+One fine morning his spouse, who was
+the same beautiful and gay Duchess de
+Valentinois so well known in the scandalous
+chronicles of that age, found
+herself at one step out of the states of
+her lord and sovereign. She took refuge
+at Paris. Desertion was not all.
+The prince soon learned that he was as
+unfortunate as a husband can be.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At that epoch, calamities of this
+description were only laughed at; but
+the Prince of Monaco was, as the
+duchess used to say, a strange man, and
+he took offence. He got information
+from time to time of the successive gallants
+whom his wife thought fit to honour,
+and he hanged them in effigy, one
+after the other, in the front court of his
+palace. The court was soon full, and
+the executions bordered on the high
+road; nevertheless, the prince relented
+not, but continued always to hang. The
+report of these executions reached Versailles;
+Louis XIV. was, in his turn,
+displeased, and counselled the prince to
+be more lenient in his punishments. He
+of Monaco answered that, being a sovereign
+prince, he had undoubtedly the
+right of pit and gallows on his own domain,
+and that surely he might hang as
+many men of straw as he pleased.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The affair bred so much scandal,
+that it was thought prudent to send the
+duchess back to her husband. He, to
+make her punishment the more complete,
+had resolved that she should, on
+her return, pass before this row of executed
+effigies. But the dowager Princess
+of Monaco prevailed upon her son to
+forego this ingenious revenge, and a
+bonfire was made of all the scarecrows.
+'It was,' said Madame de Sevign&eacute;, 'the
+torch of their second nuptials.' ...</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A successor of this prince, Honore
+IV., was reigning tranquilly in his little
+dominions when the French Revolution
+broke out. The Monacites watched its
+successive phases with a peculiar attention,
+and when the republic was finally
+proclaimed at Paris, they took advantage
+of Honore's absence, who was gone
+from home, and not known where, armed
+themselves with whatever came to hand,
+marched to the palace, took it by assault,
+and commenced plundering the cellars,
+which might contain from twelve to
+fifteen thousand bottles of wine. Two
+hours after, the eight thousand subjects
+of the Prince of Monaco were drunk.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, at this first trial, they found
+liberty was an excellent thing, and they
+resolved to constitute themselves forthwith
+into a republic. But it seemed
+that Monaco was far too extensive a
+territory to proclaim itself, after the
+example of France, a republic one and
+indivisible; so the wise men of the
+country, who had already formed themselves
+into a national assembly, came to
+the conclusion that Monaco should rather
+follow the example of America, and give
+birth to a federal republic. The fundamental
+laws of the new constitution
+were then discussed and determined
+by Monaco and Mantone, who united
+themselves for life and death. There
+was a third village called Rocco-Bruno:
+it was decided that it should belong half
+to the one and half to the other. Rocco-Bruno
+murmured: it had aspired to
+independence, and a place in the federation;
+but Monaco and Mantone smiled
+at so arrogant a pretension. Rocco-Bruno
+was not the strongest, and was
+reduced to silence: from that moment,
+however, Rocco-Bruno was marked out
+to the two national conventions as a
+focus of sedition. The republic was
+finally proclaimed under the title of the
+Republic of Monaco.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Monacites next looked abroad
+upon the world for allies. There were
+two nations, equally enlightened with
+themselves, to whom they could extend
+the hand of fellowship&mdash;the American
+and the French. Geographical position
+decided in favour of the latter. The
+republic of Monaco sent three deputies
+to the National Convention of France
+to proffer and demand alliance. The
+National Convention was in a moment
+of perfect good-humour: it received the
+deputies most politely, and invited them
+to call the next morning for the treaty
+they desired.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The treaty was prepared that very
+day. It was not, indeed, a very lengthy
+document: it consisted of the two following
+articles:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Art. 1. There shall be peace and
+alliance between the French Republic
+and the Republic of Monaco.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Art. 2. The French Republic is delighted
+with having made the acquaintance
+of the Republic of Monaco.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This treaty was placed next morning
+in the hands of the ambassadors, who
+departed highly gratified. Three months
+afterwards the French Republic had
+thrown its lion's paw on its dear acquaintance,
+the Republic of Monaco.&quot;&mdash;P.
+14.</p></div>
+
+<p>From Monaco our traveller proceeds
+to Geneva; from Geneva, by water,
+to Livorno, (<i>Anglic&eacute;</i>, Leghorn.) Now
+there is little or nothing to be seen at
+Livorno. There is, in the place <i>della
+Darnesa</i>, a solitary statue of Ferdinand
+I., some time cardinal, and
+afterwards Grand-Duke of Florence.
+M. Dumas bethinks him to tell us the
+principal incident in the life of this
+Ferdinand; but then this again is
+connected with the history of Bianca
+Capello, so that he must commence
+with her adventures. The name of
+Bianca Capello figures just now on
+the title-page of one of Messrs Colburn's
+and Bentley's <i>last and newest</i>.
+Those who have read the novel, and
+those who, like ourselves, have seen
+only the title, may be equally willing
+to hear the story of this high-spirited
+dame told in the terse, rapid manner&mdash;brief,
+but full of detail&mdash;of Dumas.
+We cannot give the whole of it in the
+words of M. Dumas; the extract
+would be too long; we must get over
+a portion of the ground in the shortest
+manner possible.</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;It was towards the end of the reign
+of Cosmo the Great, about the commencement
+of the year 1563, that a
+young man named Pietro Bonaventuri,
+the issue of a family respectable, though
+poor, left Florence to seek his fortune
+in Venice. An uncle who bore the
+same name as himself, and who had
+lived in the latter city for twenty years,
+recommended him to the bank of the
+Salviati, of which he himself was one of
+the managers. The youth was received
+in the capacity of clerk.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Opposite the bank of the Salviati
+lived a rich Venetian nobleman, head of
+the house of the Capelli. He had one
+son and one daughter, but not by his
+wife then living, who, in consequence,
+was stepmother to his children. With
+the son, our narrative is not concerned;
+the daughter, Bianca Capello, was a
+charming girl of the age of fifteen or
+sixteen, of a pale complexion, on which
+the blood, at every emotion, would appear,
+and pass like a roseate cloud; her
+hair, of that rich flaxen which Raphael
+has made so beautiful; her eyes
+dark and full of lustre, her figure slight
+and flexile, but of that flexibility which
+denotes no weakness, but force of character;
+prompt, as another Juliet, to
+love, and waiting only till some Romeo
+should cross her path, to say, like the
+maid of Verona&mdash;'I will be to thee or to
+the tomb!'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She saw Pietro Bonaventuri: the
+window of his chamber looked out upon
+hers; they exchanged glances, signs,
+promises of love. Arrived at this point,
+the distance from each other was their
+sole obstacle: this obstacle Bianca was
+the first to overcome.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Each night, when all had retired to
+rest in the house of the Salviati, when
+the nurse who had reared Bianca, had
+betaken herself to the next chamber,
+and the young girl, standing listening
+against the partition, had assured herself
+that this last Argus was asleep, she
+threw over her shoulders a dark cloak
+to be the less visible in the night, descended
+on tiptoe, and light as a shadow,
+the marble stairs of the paternal palace,
+unbarred the gate, and crossed the
+street. On the threshold of the opposite
+door, her lover was standing to
+receive her; and the two together, with
+stifled breath and silent caresses, ascended
+the stairs that led to the little
+chamber of Pietro. Before the break
+of day, Bianca retired in the same manner
+to her own room, where her nurse
+found her in the morning, in a sleep as
+profound at least as the sleep of innocence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One night whilst our Juliet was
+with her Romeo, a baker's boy, who had
+just been to light his oven in the neighbourhood,
+saw a gate half open, and
+thought he did good service by closing
+it. Ten minutes afterwards, Bianca
+descended, and saw that it was impossible
+to re-enter her father's house.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bianca was one of those energetic
+spirits whose resolutions are taken at
+once, and for ever. She saw that her
+whole future destiny was changed by
+this one accident, and she accepted without
+hesitation the new life which this
+accident had imposed on her. She re-ascended
+to her lover, related what had
+happened, demanded of him if he was
+ready to sacrifice all for her as she was
+for him, and proposed to take advantage
+of the two hours of the night which
+still remained to them, to quit Venice
+and conceal themselves from the pursuit
+of her parents. Pietro was true&mdash;he
+adopted immediately the proposal; they
+stepped into a gondola, and fled towards
+Florence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Arrived at Florence, they took refuge
+with the father of Pietro&mdash;Bonaventuri
+the elder, who with his wife had
+a small lodging in the second floor in
+the place of St Mark. Strange! it is
+with poor parents that the children are
+so especially welcome. They received
+their son and their new daughter with
+open arms. Their servant was dismissed,
+both for economy and the better preservation
+of their secret. The good
+mother charged herself with the care of
+the little household. Bianca, whose
+white hands had been taught no such
+useful duties, set about working the
+most charming embroidery. The father,
+who earned his living as a copyist
+for public offices, gave out that he had
+retained a clerk, and took home a
+double portion of papers. All were
+employed, and the little family contrived
+to live.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meanwhile, it will be easily imagined
+how great a commotion the flight of
+Bianca occasioned in the palace of the
+noble Capello. During the whole of
+the first day they made no pursuit, for
+they still, though with much anxiety,
+expected her return. The day passed,
+however, without any news of the fugitive;
+the flight, on the same morning,
+of Pietro Bonaventuri was next reported;
+a thousand little incidents which
+attracted no notice at the time were now
+brought back to recollection, and the
+result of the whole was the clear conviction
+that they had fled together. The
+influence of the Capelli was such that
+the case was brought immediately before
+the Council of Ten; and Pietro
+Bonaventuri was placed under the ban
+of the Republic. The sentence of this
+tribunal was made known to the government
+of Florence; and this government
+authorized the Capelli, or the officers of
+the Venetian Republic, to make all necessary
+search, not only in Florence,
+but throughout all Tuscany. The
+search, however was unavailing. Each
+one of the parties felt too great an interest
+in keeping their secret, and Bianca
+herself never stirred from the apartment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Three months passed in this melancholy
+concealment, yet she who had
+been habituated from infancy to all
+the indulgences of wealth, never once
+breathed a word of complaint. Her
+only recreation was to look down into
+the street through the sloping blind.
+Now, amongst those who frequently
+passed across the Place of St Mark
+was the young grand-duke, who went
+every other day to see his father at his
+castle of Petraja. Francesco was young,
+gallant, and handsome; but it was not
+his youth or beauty that preoccupied
+the thoughts of Bianca, it was the idea
+that this prince, as powerful as he
+seemed gracious, might, by one word,
+raise the ban from Pietro Bonaventuri, and
+restore both him and herself to freedom.
+It was this idea which kindled a double
+lustre in the eyes of the young Venetian,
+as she punctually at the hour of
+his passing, ran to the window, and sloped the
+jalousie. One day, the prince
+happening to look up as he passed, met
+the enkindled glance of his fair observer.
+Bianca hastily retired.&quot;</p></div>
+
+<p>What immediately follows need not
+be told at any length. Francesco was
+enamoured: he obtained an interview.
+Bianca released and enriched her
+lover, but became the mistress of the
+young duke. Pietro was quite
+content with this arrangement; he had
+himself given the first example of
+inconstancy. He entered upon a
+career of riotous pleasure, which ended
+in a violent death.</p>
+
+<p>Francesco, in obedience to his father,
+married a princess of the house
+of Austria; but Bianca still retained
+her influence. His wife, who had
+been much afflicted by this preference
+of her rival, died, and the repentant
+widower swore never again to see
+Bianca. He kept the oath for four
+months; but she placed herself as if
+by accident in his path, and all her
+old power was revived. Francesco,
+by the death of his father, became the
+reigning Duke of Tuscany, and Bianca
+Capello, his wife and duchess. And
+now we arrive at that part of the story
+in which Ferdinand, the brother of
+Francesco, and whose statue at Livorno
+led to this history, enters on the
+scene.</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;About three years after their
+nuptials, the young Archduke, the issue of
+Francesco's previous marriage, died,
+leaving the ducal throne of Tuscany
+without direct heir; failing which the
+Cardinal Ferdinand would become
+Grand-duke at the death of his brother.
+Now Bianca had given to Francesco
+one son; but, besides that he was born
+before their marriage, and therefore
+incapable of succeeding, the rumour had
+been spread that he was supposititious.
+The dukedom, therefore, would descend
+to the Cardinal if the Grand-duchess
+should have no other child; and Francesco
+himself had begun to despair of
+this happiness, when Bianca announced
+to him a second pregnancy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This time the Cardinal resolved to
+watch himself the proceedings of his
+dear sister-in-law, lest he should be the
+dupe of some new man&oelig;uvre. He began,
+therefore, to cultivate in an
+especial manner the friendship of his
+brother, declaring, that the present
+condition of the Grand-duchess proved to him
+how false had been the rumours spread
+touching her former <i>accouchement</i>.
+Francesco, happy to find his brother in this
+disposition, returned his advances with
+the utmost cordiality. The Cardinal
+availed himself of this friendly feeling
+to come and install himself in the Palace
+Pitti.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The arrival of the Cardinal was by
+no means agreeable to Bianca, who was
+not at all deceived as to the true cause
+of this fraternal visit. She knew that,
+in the Cardinal, she had a spy upon her
+at every moment. The spy, however,
+could detect nothing that savoured of
+imposture. If her condition was feigned,
+the comedy was admirably played.
+The Cardinal began to think that his
+suspicions were unjust. Nevertheless,
+if there were craft, the game he
+determined should be played out with equal
+skill upon his side.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The eventful day arrived. The
+Cardinal could not remain in the chamber
+of Bianca, but he stationed himself
+in an antechamber, through which every
+one who visited her must necessarily
+pass. There he began to say his
+breviary, walking solemnly to and fro.
+After praying and promenading thus for
+about an hour, a message was brought
+to him from the invalid, requesting him
+to go into another room, as his tread
+disturbed her. 'Let her attend to her
+affairs, and I to mine,' was the only
+answer he gave, and the Cardinal
+recommenced his walk and his prayer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Soon after this the confessor of the
+Grand-duchess entered&mdash;a Capuchin, in
+a long robe. The Cardinal went up to
+him, and embraced him in his arms,
+recommending his sister most affectionately
+to his pious care. While embracing
+the good monk, the Cardinal felt, or
+thought he felt, something strange in
+his long sleeve. He groped under the
+Capuchin's robe, and drew out&mdash;a fine
+boy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'My dear brother,' said the
+Cardinal, 'I am now more tranquil. I am
+sure, at least, that my dear sister-in-law
+will not die this time in childbirth.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The monk saw that all that
+remained was to avoid, if possible, the
+scandal; and he asked the Cardinal
+himself what he should do. The
+Cardinal told him to enter into the chamber
+of the Duchess, whisper to her what had
+happened, and, as she acted, so would
+he act. Silence should purchase silence;
+clamour, clamour.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bianca saw that she must renounce
+at present her design to give a successor
+to the ducal crown; she submitted to a
+miscarriage. The Cardinal, on his side,
+kept his word, and the unsuccessful
+attempt was never betrayed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A few months passed on; there was
+an uninterrupted harmony between the
+brothers, and Francesco invited the
+Cardinal, who was fond of field-sports,
+to pass some time with him at a country
+palace, famous for its preserves Of
+game.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;On the very day of his arrival,
+Bianca, who knew that the Cardinal
+was partial to a certain description of
+tart, bethought her to prepare one for
+him herself. This flattering attention
+on the part of his sister-in-law was
+hinted to him by Francesco, who mentioned
+it as a new proof of the Duchess's
+amiability, but, as he had no great confidence
+in his reconciliation with Bianca,
+it was an intimation which caused him
+not a little disquietude. Fortunately,
+the Cardinal possessed an opal, given to
+him by Pope Sixtus V., which had the
+property of growing dim the moment it
+approached any poisonous substance.
+He did not fail to make trial of it on the
+tart prepared by Bianca. The opal
+grew dim and tarnished. The Cardinal
+said, with an assumed air of carelessness,
+that, on consideration, he would
+not eat to-day of the tart. The Duke
+pressed him; but not being able to prevail&mdash;'Well,'
+said he, 'since Ferdinand
+will not eat of his favourite dish, it shall
+not be said that a Grand-duchess had
+turned confectioner for nothing&mdash;I will
+eat of it.' And he helped himself to a
+piece of the tart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bianca was in the act of bending
+forward to prevent him&mdash;but suddenly
+paused. Her position was horrible. She
+must either avow her crime, or suffer
+her husband to poison himself. She
+cast a quick retrospective glance along
+her past life; she saw that she had exhausted
+all the pleasures of the world,
+and attained to all its glories; her
+decision was rapid&mdash;as rapid as on
+that day when she had fled from Venice
+with Pietro. She also cut off a
+piece from the tart, and extending her
+hand to her husband, she smiled, and,
+with her other hand, eat of the poisoned
+dish.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;On the morrow, Francesco and
+Bianca were dead. A physician opened
+their bodies by order of Ferdinand, and
+declared that they had fallen victims to
+a malignant fever. Three days after,
+the Cardinal threw down his red hat,
+and ascended the ducal throne.&quot;&mdash;P. 63.</p></div>
+
+<p>But presto! Mr Dumas is traveller
+as well as annalist He must
+leave the Middle Ages to themselves;
+the present moment has its exigences;
+he must look to himself and his baggage.
+He had great difficulty in doing
+this on his landing at the Port of
+Livorno; and now, on his departure,
+he is beset with <i>vetturini</i>. Let us recur
+to some of these miseries of travel,
+which may at least claim a wide
+sympathy, for most of us are familiar
+with them. It is not necessary even
+to leave our own island to find how
+great an embarrassment too much help
+may prove, but we certainly have
+nothing in our own experience quite
+equal to the lively picture of M.
+Dumas:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;I have visited many ports&mdash;I have
+traversed many towns&mdash;I have contended
+with the porters of Avignon&mdash;with
+the <i>facchini</i> of Malta, and with the innkeepers
+of Messina, but I never entered
+so villanous a place as Livorno.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In every other country of the world
+there is some possibility of defending
+your baggage, of bargaining for its
+transport to the hotel; and if no treaty
+can be made, there is at least liberty
+given to load your own shoulders with
+it, and be your own porter. Nothing of
+this kind at Livorno. The vessel which
+brings you has not yet touched the
+shore when it is boarded; <i>commissionnaires</i>
+absolutely rain upon you, you know
+not whence; they spring upon the jetty,
+throw themselves on the nearest vessel,
+and glide down upon you from the rigging.
+Seeing that your little craft is
+in danger of being capsized by their
+numbers, you think of self-preservation,
+and grasping hold of some green and
+slimy steps, you cling there, like Crusoe
+to his rock; then, after many efforts,
+having lost your hat, and scarified your
+knees, and torn your nails, you at length
+stand on the pier. So much for yourself.
+As to your baggage, it has been
+already divided into as many lots as
+there are articles; you have a porter
+for your portmanteau, a porter for your
+dressing-case, a porter for your hat-box,
+a porter for your umbrella, a porter
+for your cane. If there are two of
+you, that makes ten porters; if three,
+fifteen; as we were four, we had twenty.
+A twenty-first wished to take Milord
+(the dog,) but Milord, who permits
+no liberties, took him by the calf, and
+we had to pinch his tail till he consented
+to unlock his teeth. The porter followed
+us, crying that the dog had lamed him,
+and that he would compel us to make
+compensation. The people rose in tumult;
+and we arrived at the <i>Pension
+Suisse</i> with twenty porters before us,
+and a rabble of two hundred behind.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It cost us forty francs for our portmanteaus,
+umbrellas, and canes, and ten
+francs for the bitten leg.<a name="footnotetag1" id="footnotetag1"></a><a href="#footnote1"><sup>1</sup></a> In all, fifty
+francs for about fifty steps.&quot;&mdash;P. 59.</p></div>
+
+<p>This was on his landing at Livorno:
+on his departure he gives us an account,
+equally graphic, of the <i>vetturini</i>:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;A diligence is a creature that leaves
+at a fixed hour, and its passengers run
+to it; a vetturino leaves at all hours,
+and runs after its passengers. Hardly
+have you set your foot out of the boat
+that brings you from the steam-vessel
+to the shore, than you are assailed,
+stifled, dragged, deafened by twenty
+drivers, who look on you as their merchandise,
+and treat you accordingly, and
+would end by carrying you off bodily, if
+they could agree among them who should
+have the booty. Families have been
+separated at the port of Livorno, to find
+each other how they could in the streets
+of Florence. In vain you jump into a
+<i>fiacre</i>, they leap up before, above, behind;
+and at the gate of the hotel, there
+you are in the midst of the same group
+of villains, who are only the more clamorous
+for having been kept waiting.
+Reduced to extremities, you declare that
+you have come to Livorno upon commercial
+business, and that you intend
+staying eight days at least, and you ask
+of the <i>gar&ccedil;on</i>, loud enough for all to
+hear, if there is an apartment at liberty
+for the next week. At this they will
+sometimes abandon the prey, which they
+reckon upon seizing at some future time;
+they run back with all haste to the port
+to catch some other traveller, and you
+are free.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nevertheless, if about an hour after
+this you should wish to leave the hotel,
+you will find one or two sentinels at the
+gate. These are connected with the
+hotel, and they have been forewarned
+by the <i>gar&ccedil;on</i> that it will not be eight
+days before you leave&mdash;that, in fact, you
+will leave to-morrow. These it is absolutely
+necessary that you call in, and
+make your treaty with. If you should
+have the imprudence to issue forth into
+the street, fifty of the brotherhood will
+be attracted by their clamours, and the
+scene of the port will be renewed. They
+will ask ten piastres for a carriage&mdash;you
+will offer five. They will utter piercing
+cries of dissent&mdash;you will shut the door
+upon them. In three minutes one of
+them will climb in at the window, and
+engage with you for the five piastres.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This treaty concluded, you are
+sacred to all the world; in five minutes
+the report is spread through all Livorno
+that you are <i>engaged</i>. You may then
+go where you please; every one salutes
+you, wishes you <i>bon voyage</i>; you would
+think yourself amongst the most disinterested
+people in the world.&quot;&mdash;P. 94.</p></div>
+
+<p>The only question that remains to
+be decided is that of the drink-money&mdash;the
+<i>buona-mano</i>, as the Italian calls
+it. This is a matter of grave importance,
+and should be gravely considered.
+On this <i>buona-mano</i> depends
+the rapidity of your journey; for the
+time may vary at the will of the driver
+from six to twelve hours. Hereupon
+M. Dumas tells an amusing story
+of a Russian prince, which not only
+proves how efficient a cause this <i>buona
+mano</i> may be in the accomplishment
+of the journey, but also illustrates very
+forcibly a familiar principle of our
+own jurisprudence, and a point to
+which the Italian traveller must pay
+particular attention. We doubt if the
+necessity of a written agreement, in
+order to enforce the terms of a contract,
+was ever made more painfully
+evident than in the following instance:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;The Prince C&mdash;&mdash; had arrived,
+with his mother and a German servant,
+at Livorno. Like every other traveller
+who arrives at Livorno, he had sought
+immediately the most expeditious means
+of departure. These, as we have said,
+present themselves in sufficient abundance;
+the only difficulty is, to know
+how to use them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The vetturini had learnt from the
+industrious porters that they had to deal
+with a prince. Consequently they demanded
+twelve piastres instead of ten,
+and the prince, instead of offering five,
+conceded the twelve piastres, but stipulated
+that this should include every
+thing, especially the <i>buona-mano</i>, which
+the master should settle with the driver.
+'Very good,' said the vetturini; the
+prince paid his twelve piastres, and the
+carriage started off, with him and his
+baggage, at full gallop. It was nine
+o'clock in the morning: according to his
+calculation, the Prince would be at
+Florence about three or four in the
+afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They had advanced about a quarter
+of a league when the horses relaxed their
+speed, and began to walk step by step.
+As to the driver, he sang upon his seat,
+interrupting himself now and then to
+gossip with such acquaintances as he
+met upon the road; and as it is ill talking
+and progressing at the same time,
+he soon brought himself to a full stop
+when he had occasion for conference.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The prince endured this for some
+time; at length putting his head out of
+the window, he said, in the purest Tuscan,
+'<i>Avanti! avanti! tirate via!</i>'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'How much do you give for <i>buona-mano</i>?'
+answered the driver, turning
+round upon his box.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Why do you speak to me of your
+<i>buona-mano</i>?' said the prince. 'I have
+given your master twelve piastres, on condition
+that it should include every thing.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'The <i>buona-mano</i> does not concern
+the master,' responded the driver; 'how
+much do you give?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Not a sou&mdash;I have paid.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Then, your excellence, we will
+continue our walk.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Your master has engaged to take
+me to Florenco in six hours,' said the
+Prince.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Where is the paper that says that&mdash;the
+written paper, your excellence?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Paper! what need of a paper for
+so simple a matter? I have no paper.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Then, your excellence, we will
+continue our walk.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Ah, we will see that!' said the
+Prince.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Yes, we <i>will</i> see that!' said the
+driver.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hereupon the prince spoke to his
+German servant, Frantz, who was sitting
+beside the coachman, and bade him administer
+due correction to this refractory
+fellow.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Frantz descended from the voiture
+without uttering a word, pulled down
+the driver from his seat, and pummelled
+him with true German gravity. Then
+pointing to the road, helped him on his
+box, and reseated himself by his side.
+The driver proceeded&mdash;a little slower
+than before. One wearies of all things
+in this world, even of beating a coachman.
+The prince, reasoning with himself
+that, fast or slow, he must at length
+arrive at his journey's end, counselled
+the princess his mother to compose herself
+to sleep; and, burying himself in
+one corner of the carriage, gave her the
+example.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The driver occupied six hours in
+going from Livorno to Pontedera; just
+four hours more than was necessary.
+Arrived at Pontedera, he invited the
+Prince to descend, as he was about to
+change the carriage.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'But,' said the Prince, 'I have given
+twelve piastres to your master on condition
+that the carriage should not be
+changed.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Where is the paper?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Fellow, you know I have none.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'In that case, your excellence, we
+will change the carriage.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The prince was half-disposed to
+break the rascal's bones himself; but,
+besides that this would have compromised
+his dignity, he saw, from the countenances
+of those who stood loitering
+round the carriage, that it would be a
+very imprudent step. He descended;
+they threw his baggage down upon the
+pavement, and after about an hour's
+delay, brought out a miserable dislocated
+carriage and two broken-winded horses.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Under any other circumstances the
+Prince would have been generous&mdash;would
+have been lavish; but he had insisted
+upon his right, he was resolved not to
+be conquered. Into this ill-conditioned
+vehicle he therefore doggedly entered,
+and as the new driver had been forewarned
+that there would be no <i>buona-mano</i>,
+the equipage started amidst the
+laughter and jeers of the mob.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This time the horses were such
+wretched animals that it would have been
+out of conscience to expect anything
+more than a walk from them. It took
+six more hours to go from Pontedera to
+Empoli.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Arrived at Empoli the driver stopped,
+and presented himself at the door
+of the carriage.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Your excellence sleeps here,' said
+he to the prince.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'How! are we at Florence?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'No, your excellence, you are at the
+charming little town of Empoli.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'I paid twelve piastres to your master
+to go to Florence, not to Empoli. I
+will sleep at Florence.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Where is the paper?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'To the devil with your paper!'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Your excellence then has no paper?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'No.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'In that case, your excellence now
+will sleep at Empoli!'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In a few minutes afterwards the
+prince found himself driven under a kind
+of archway. It was a coach-house
+belonging to an inn. On his expressing
+surprise at being driven into this sort of
+place, and repeating his determination
+to proceed to Florence, the coachman
+said, that, at all events, he must change
+his horses; and that this was the most
+convenient place for so doing. In fact,
+he took out his horses, and led them
+away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;After waiting some time for his
+return, the prince called to Frantz, and
+bade him open the door of this
+coach-house, and bring somebody.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Frantz obeyed, but found the door
+shut&mdash;fastened.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;On hearing that they were shut in,
+the prince started from the carriage,
+shook the gates with all his might, called
+out lustily, and looked about, but in vain,
+for some paving stone with which to
+batter them open.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now the prince was a man of admirable
+good sense; so, having satisfied
+himself that the people in the house
+either could not, or would not hear him,
+he determined to make the best of his
+position. Re-entering the carriage, he
+drew up the glasses, looked to his pistols,
+stretched out his legs, and wishing
+his mother good night, went off to sleep.
+Frantz did the same on his post. The
+princess was not so fortunate; she was
+in perpetual terror of some ambush, and
+kept her eyes wide open all the night.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So the night passed. At seven
+o'clock in the morning the door of the
+coach-house opened, and a driver
+appeared with a couple of horses.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Are there not some travellers for
+Florence here?' he asked with the tone
+of perfect politeness, and as if he were
+putting the most natural question in the
+world.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The prince leapt from the carriage
+with the intention of strangling the
+man&mdash;but it was another driver!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Where is the rascal that brought
+us here?' he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'What, Peppino? Does your excellence
+mean Peppino?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'The driver from Pontedera?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Ah, well, that was Peppino.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Then where is Peppino?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'He is on his road home. Yes, your
+excellence. You see it was the f&ecirc;te of
+the Madonna, and we danced and drank
+together&mdash;I and Peppino&mdash;all the night;
+and this morning about an hour ago says
+he to me, 'Gaetano, do you take your
+horses, and go find two travellers and a
+servant who are under a coach-house at
+the <i>Croix d'Or</i>; all is paid except the
+<i>buona-mano</i>.' And I asked him, your
+excellence, how it happened that travellers
+were sleeping in a coach-house
+instead of in a chamber. 'Oh,' said he,
+'they are English&mdash;they are afraid of not
+having clean sheets, and so they prefer
+to sleep in their carriage in the
+coach-house.' Now as I know the English are
+a nation of originals, I supposed it was
+all right, and so I emptied another flask,
+and got my horses, and here I am. If
+I am too early I will return, and come
+by and by.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'No, no, in the devil's name,' said
+the prince, 'harness your beasts, and do
+not lose a moment. There is a piastre
+for your <i>buona-mano</i>.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They were soon at Florence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The first care of the prince, after
+having breakfasted, for neither he nor
+the princess had eaten any thing since
+they had left Livorno, was to lay his
+complaint before a magistrate.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Where is the paper?' said the
+judicial authority.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'I have none,' said the prince.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Then I counsel you,' replied the
+judge, 'to let the matter drop. Only
+the next time give five piastres to the
+master, and a piastre and a half to the
+driver; you will save five piastres and a
+half, and arrive eighteen hours
+sooner.'&quot;&mdash;P. 97.</p></div>
+
+<p>M. Dumas, however, arrives at
+Florence without any such disagreeable
+adventure as sleeping in a coach-house.
+He gives a pleasing description
+of the Florentine people, amongst
+whom the spirit of commerce has died
+away, but left behind a considerable
+share of the wealth and luxury that
+sprang from it. There is little spirit
+of enterprise; no rivalry between a
+class enriching itself and the class
+with whom wealth is hereditary; the
+jewels that were purchased under the
+reign of the Medici still shine without
+competitors on the promenade and at
+the opera. It is a people that has
+made its fortune, and lives contentedly
+on its revenues, and on what it gets
+from the stranger. &quot;The first want of
+a Florentine,&quot; says our author, &quot;is repose;
+even pleasure is secondary; it
+costs him some little effort to be amused.
+Wearied of its frequent political
+convulsions, the town of the Medici
+aspires only to that unbroken and enchanted
+slumber which fell, as the
+fairy tale informs us, on the beautiful
+lady in the sleepy wood. No one here
+seems to labour, except those who are
+tolling and ringing the church-bells,
+and they indeed appear to have rest
+neither day nor night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There are but three classes visible
+in Florence. The nobility&mdash;the foreigner&mdash;and
+the people. The nobility,
+a few princely houses excepted,
+spend but little, the people work but
+little, and it would be a marvel how
+these last lived if it were not for the
+foreigner. Every autumn brings them
+their harvest in the shape of a swarm
+of travellers from England, France,
+or Russia, and, we may now add,
+America. The winter pays for the
+long delicious indolence of the summer.
+Then the populace lounges,
+with interminable leisure, in their
+churches, on their promenades, round
+the doors of coffee-houses that are
+never closed either day or night; they
+follow their religious processions; they
+cluster with an easy good-natured curiosity
+round every thing that wears
+the appearance of a f&ecirc;te; taking whatever
+amusement presents itself, without
+caring to detain it, and quitting it
+without the least distrust that some
+other quite as good will occupy its
+place. &quot;One evening we were roused,&quot;
+says our traveller, &quot;by a noise in the
+street: two or three musicians of the
+opera, on leaving the theatre, had
+taken a fancy to go home playing a
+waltz. The scattered population of
+the streets arranged themselves, and
+followed waltzing. The men who
+could find no better partners, waltzed
+together. Five or six hundred persons
+were enjoying this impromptu ball,
+which kept its course from the opera
+house to the Port del Prato, where
+the last musician resided. The last
+musician having entered his house,
+the waltzers returned arm-in-arm,
+still humming the air to which they
+had been dancing.&quot;</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;It follows,&quot; continues M. Dumas,
+&quot;from this commercial apathy, that at
+Florence you must seek after every
+thing you want. It never comes of
+itself&mdash;never presents itself before you;&mdash;everything
+there stays at home&mdash;rests
+in its own place. A foreigner
+who should remain only a month in the
+capital of Tuscany would carry away a
+very false idea of it. At first it seems
+impossible to procure the things the
+most indispensable, or those you do procure
+are bad; it is only after some time
+that you learn, and that not from the
+inhabitants, but from other foreigners
+who have resided there longer than
+yourself, where anything is to be got.
+At the end of six months you are still
+making discoveries of this sort; so that
+people generally quit Tuscany at the
+time they have learned to live there. It
+results from all this that every time
+you visit Florence you like it the better;
+if you should revisit it three or
+four times you would probably end by
+making of it a second country, and
+passing there the remainder of your
+lives.&quot;<a name="footnotetag2" id="footnotetag2"></a><a href="#footnote2"><sup>2</sup></a></p></div>
+
+<p>Shall we visit the churches of Florence
+with M. Dumas? No, we are
+not in the vein. Shall we go with
+him to the theatres&mdash;to the opera&mdash;to
+the Pergola? Yes, but not to discuss
+the music or the dancing. Every
+body knows that at the great theatres
+of Italy the fashionable part of the
+audience pay very little attention to
+the music, unless it be a new opera,
+but make compensation by listening
+devoutly to the ballet. The Pergola
+is the great resort of fashion. A
+box at the Pergola, and a carriage
+for the banks of the Arno, are the <i>indispensables</i>,
+we are told, at Florence.
+Who has these, may eat his macaroni
+where he pleases&mdash;may dine for
+sixpence if he will, or can: it is his
+own affair, the world is not concerned
+about it&mdash;he is still a gentleman, and
+ranks with nobles. Who has them
+not&mdash;though he be derived from the
+loins of emperors, and dine every
+day off plate of gold, and with a dozen
+courses&mdash;is still nobody. Therefore
+regulate your expenditure accordingly,
+all ye who would be somebody.
+We go with M. Dumas to
+the opera, not, as we have said, for
+the music or the dancing, but because,
+as is the way with dramatic authors,
+he will there introduce us, for the
+sake of contrast with an institution
+very different from that of an operatic
+company&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;Sometimes in the midst of a cavatina
+or a <i>pas-de-deux</i>, a bell with a
+sharp, shrill, excoriating sound, will be
+heard; it is the bell <i>della misericordia</i>.
+Listen: if it sound but once, it is for
+some ordinary accident; if twice, for
+one of a serious nature; if it sounds
+three times, it is a case of death. If
+you look around, you will see a slight
+stir in some of the boxes, and it will
+often happen that the person you have
+been speaking to, if a Florentine, will
+excuse himself for leaving you, will
+quietly take his hat and depart. You
+inquire what that bell means, and why
+it produces so strange an effect. You
+are told it is the bell <i>della misericordia</i>,
+and that he with whom you were speaking
+is a brother of the order.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This brotherhood of mercy is one
+of the noblest institutions in the world.
+It was founded in 1244, on occasion of
+the frequent pestilences which at that
+period desolated the town, and it has
+been perpetuated to the present day,
+without any alteration, except in its
+details&mdash;with none in its purely charitable
+spirit. It is composed of seventy-two
+brothers, called chiefs of the watch, who
+are each in service four months in the
+year. Of these seventy-two brothers,
+thirty are priests, fourteen gentlemen,
+and twenty-eight artists. To these,
+who represent the aristocratic classes
+and the liberal arts, are added 500 labourers
+and workmen, who may be said
+to represent the people.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The seat of the brotherhood is in
+the place <i>del Duomo</i>. Each brother
+has there, marked with his own name, a
+box enclosing a black robe like that of
+the <i>penitents</i>, with openings only for the
+eyes and mouth, in order that his good
+actions may have the further merit of
+being performed in secret. Immediately
+that the news of any accident or disaster
+is brought to the brother who is upon
+guard, the bell sounds its alarm, once,
+twice, or thrice, according to the gravity
+of the case; and at the sound of the
+bell every brother, wherever he may be,
+is bound to retire at the instant, and
+hasten to the rendezvous. There he
+learns what misfortune or what suffering
+has claimed his pious offices; he
+puts on his black robe and a broad hat,
+takes the taper in his hand, and goes
+forth where the voice of misery has
+called him. If it is some wounded man,
+they bear him to the hospital; if the
+man is dead, to a chapel: the nobleman
+and the day labourer, clothed with the
+same robe, support together the same
+litter, and the link which unites these
+two extremes of society is some sick
+pauper, who, knowing neither, is praying
+equally for both. And when these brothers
+of mercy have quitted the house,
+the children whose father they have
+carried out, or the wife whose husband
+they have borne away, have but to look
+around them, and always, on some
+worm-eaten piece of furniture, there
+will be found a pious alms, deposited by
+an unknown hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Grand-duke himself is a member
+of this fraternity, and I have been
+assured that more than once, at the
+sound of that melancholy bell, he has
+clothed himself in the uniform of charity,
+and penetrated unknown, side by
+side with a day-labourer, to the bed's
+head of some dying wretch, and that
+his presence had afterwards been detected
+only by the alms he had left behind.&quot;&mdash;p. 126.</p></div>
+
+<p>It is not to be supposed that our
+dramatist pursues the same direct and
+unadventurous route that lies open to
+every citizen of Paris and London.
+At the end of the first volume we
+leave him still at Florence; we open
+the second, and we find him and his
+companion Jadin, and his companion's
+dog Milord, standing at the port of
+Naples, looking out for some vessel
+to take them to Sicily. So that we
+have travels in Italy with Rome left
+out. Not that he did not visit Rome,
+but that we have no &quot;souvenirs&quot; of
+his visit here. As the book is a mere
+<i>capriccio</i>, there can be no possible objection
+taken to it on this score. Besides,
+the island of Sicily, which becomes
+the chief scene of his adventures,
+is less beaten ground. Nor do
+we hear much of Naples, for he quits
+Naples almost as soon as he had entered
+it. This last fact requires explanation.</p>
+
+<p>M. Dumas has had the honour to
+be an object of terror or of animosity
+to crowned heads. When at Genoa,
+his Sardinian Majesty manifested this
+hostility to M. Dumas&mdash;we presume
+on account of his too liberal politics&mdash;by
+dispatching an emissary of the
+police to notify to him that he must
+immediately depart from Genoa.
+Which emissary of his Sardinian
+Majesty had no sooner delivered his
+royal sentence of deportation, than
+he extended his hand for a <i>pour boire</i>.
+Either M. Dumas must be a far more
+formidable person than we have any
+notion of, or majesty can be very nervous,
+or very spiteful. And now,
+when he is about to enter Naples&mdash;&mdash;but
+why do we presume to relate M.
+Dumas's personal adventures in any
+other language than his own? or language
+as near his own as we&mdash;who
+are, we must confess, imperfect translators&mdash;can
+hope to give.</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;The very evening of our arrival at
+Naples, Jadin and I ran to the port to
+enquire if by chance any vessel, whether
+steam-boat or sailing packet, would
+leave on the morrow for Sicily. As it is
+not the ordinary custom for travellers
+to go to Naples to remain there a few
+hours only, let me say a word on the
+circumstance that compelled us to this
+hasty departure.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We had left Paris with the intention
+of traversing the whole of Italy,
+including Sicily and Calabria; and, putting
+this project into scrupulous execution,
+we had already visited Nice, Genoa,
+Milan, Florence, and Rome, when,
+after a sojourn of about three weeks at
+this last city, I had the honour to meet,
+at the Marquis de P&mdash;&mdash;'s, our own
+<i>charg&eacute; des affaires</i>, the Count de Ludorf,
+the Neapolitan ambassador. As I was
+to leave in a few days for Naples, the
+Marquis introduced me to his brother in
+diplomacy. M. de Ludorf received me
+with that cold and vacant smile which
+pledges to nothing; nevertheless, after
+this introduction, I thought myself bound
+to carry to him our passports myself.
+M. de Ludorf had the civility to tell me
+to deposit the passports at his office, and
+to call there for them the day after the
+morrow.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Two days having elapsed, I accordingly
+presented myself at the office: I
+found a clerk there, who, with the utmost
+politeness, informed me that some
+difficulties having arisen on the subject
+of my <i>visa</i>, I had better make an application
+to the ambassador himself. I was
+obliged, therefore, whatever resolution
+I had made to the contrary, to present
+myself again to M. de Ludorf.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I found the ambassador more cold,
+more measured than before, but reflecting
+that it would probably be the last
+time I should have the honour of seeing
+him, I resigned myself. He motioned
+to me to take a chair. This was some
+improvement upon the last visit; the last
+visit he left me standing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Monsieur,' said he, with a certain
+air of embarrassment, and drawing out,
+one after the other, the folds of his
+shirt-front, 'I regret to say that you
+cannot go to Naples.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Why so?' I replied, determined
+to impose upon our dialogue whatever
+tone I thought fit&mdash;'are the roads so
+bad?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'No, monsieur; the roads are excellent,
+but you have the misfortune to
+be on the list of those who cannot enter
+the kingdom of Naples.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'However honourable such a distinction
+may be, monsieur l'ambassadeur,'
+said I, suiting my tone to the words, 'it
+will at present be rather inconvenient,
+and I trust you will permit me to inquire
+into the cause of this prohibition.
+If it is nothing but one of those slight
+and vexatious interruptions which one
+meets with perpetually in Italy, I have
+some friends about the world who might
+have influence sufficient to remove it.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'The cause is one of a grave nature,
+and I doubt if your friends, of
+whatever rank they may be, will have
+influence to remove it.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'What may it be?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'In the first place, you are the son
+of General Matthieu Dumas, who was
+minister of war at Naples during the
+usurpation of Joseph.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'I am sorry,' I answered, 'to be
+obliged to decline any relationship with
+that illustrious general. My father was
+not General Matthieu, but General
+Alexandre Dumas. The same,' I continued,
+seeing that he was endeavouring
+to recall some reminiscences connected
+with the name of Dumas, 'who, after
+having been made prisoner at Tarentum,
+in contempt of the rights of hospitality,
+was poisoned at Brindisi, with Mauscourt
+and Dolomieu, in contempt of
+the rights of nations. This happened,
+monsieur l'ambassadeur, at the same
+time that they hanged Carracciolo in
+the Gulf of Naples. You see I do all
+I can to assist your recollection.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M. de Ludorf bit his lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Well, monsieur,' he resumed after
+a moment's silence, 'there is a second
+reason&mdash;your political opinions. You
+are marked out as a republican, and
+have quitted Paris, it is said, on some
+political design.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'To which I answer, monsieur,
+by showing you my letters of introduction.
+They bear nearly all the seals and
+signatures of our ministers. Here is
+one from the Admiral Jacob, another
+from Marshal Soult, another from M.
+de Villemain; they claim for me the aid
+of the French ambassador in any case
+of this description.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Well, well,' said M. de Ludorf,
+'since you have foreseen the very difficulty
+that has occurred, meet it with
+those means which are in your power.
+For me, I repeat, I cannot sign your
+passport. Those of your companions
+are quite regular; they can proceed
+when they please; but they must proceed
+without you.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Has the Count de Ludorf' said I,
+rising, 'any commissions for Naples?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Why so, monsieur?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Because I shall have great pleasure
+in undertaking them.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'But I repeat, you cannot go to
+Naples.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'I shall be there in three days.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wished M. de Ludorf good morning,
+and left him stupefied at my assurance.&quot;&mdash;Vol.
+ii. p. 5.</p></div>
+
+<p>Our dramatical traveller ran immediately
+to a young friend, an artist
+then studying at Rome, and prevailed
+on him to take out a passport, in his
+own name for Naples. Fortified
+with this passport, and assuming the
+name of his friend, he left Rome that
+evening. The following day he reached
+Naples. But as he was exposed
+every moment to detection, it was necessary
+that he should pass over immediately
+to Sicily. The steam-boats
+at Naples, unlike the steam-boats
+every where else, start at no fixed period.
+The captain waits for his contingent
+of passengers, and till this has
+been obtained both he and his vessel
+are immovable. M. Dumas and his
+companion, therefore, hired a small
+sailing vessel, a <i>speronara</i> as it is
+called, in which they embarked the
+next morning. But before weighing
+anchor M. Dumas took from his portfolio
+the neatest, purest, whitest, sheet
+of paper that it contained, and indited
+the following letter to the Count de
+Ludorf:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;Monsieur le Comte,
+
+<p>&quot;I am distressed that your excellency
+did not think fit to charge me with your
+commissions for Naples. I should have
+executed them with a fidelity which
+would have convinced you of the grateful
+recollection I retain of your kind
+offices.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Accept, M. le Comte, the assurance
+of those lively sentiments which I entertain
+towards you, and of which, one day
+or other, I hope to give you proof.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;ALEX. DUMAS.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Naples, 23d Aug. 1835.&quot;</p></div>
+
+<p>With the crew of this <i>speronara</i>
+we became as familiar as with the
+personages of a novel; and, indeed,
+about this time the novelist begins to
+predominate over the tourist.</p>
+
+<p>On leaving the bay of Naples our
+traveller first makes for the island of
+Capri. The greatest curiosity which
+he here visits and describes in the
+<i>azure grotto</i>. He and his companion
+are rowed, each in a small skiff, to a
+narrow dark aperture upon the rocky
+coast, and which appears the darker
+from its contrast with the white surf
+that is dashing about it. He is told
+to lie down on his back in the boat, to
+protect his head from a concussion
+against the low roof.</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;In a moment after I was borne upon
+the surge&mdash;the bark glided on with rapidity&mdash;I
+saw nothing but a dark rock,
+which seemed for a second to be weighing
+on my chest. Then on a sudden I
+found myself in a grotto so marvellous
+that I uttered a cry of astonishment,
+and started up in my admiration with a
+bound which endangered the frail bark
+on which I stood.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had before me, around me, above
+me, beneath me, a perfect enchantment,
+which words cannot describe, and which
+the pencil would utterly fail to give any
+impression of. Imagine an immense
+cavern, all pure azure&mdash;as if God had
+made a tent there with some residue
+of the firmament; a surface of water
+so limpid, so transparent, that you
+seem to float on air: above you, the
+pendant stalactites, huge and fantastical,
+reversed pyramids and pinnacles: below
+you a sand of gold mingled with marine
+vegetation; and around the margin of
+cave, where it is bathed by the water,
+the coral shooting out its capricious and
+glittering branches. That narrow entrance
+which, from the sea, showed like
+a dark spot, now shone at one end a luminous
+point, the solitary star which
+gave its subdued light to this fairy palace;
+whilst at the opposite extremity a
+sort of alcove led on the imagination to
+expect new wonders, or perhaps the apparition
+of the nymph or goddess of the
+place.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In all probability the azure grotto
+was unknown to the ancients. No poet
+speaks of it; and surely with their
+marvellous imagination the Greeks could
+not have failed to make it the palace of
+some marine goddess, and to have
+transmitted to us her history. The sea,
+perhaps, was higher than it is now, and the
+secrets of this cave were known only
+to Amphitrite and her court of sirens,
+naiads, and tritons.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Even now at times the sea rises and
+closes the orifice, so that those who have
+entered cannot escape. In which case
+they must wait till the wind, which had
+suddenly shifted to the east or west,
+returns to the north or south; and it has
+happened that visitors who came to
+spend twenty minutes in the azure grotto,
+have remained there two, three, and
+even four days. To provide against
+such an emergency, the boatmen always
+bring with them a certain quantity of
+biscuit to feed the prisoners, and as the
+rock affords fresh water in several places,
+there is no fear of thirst. It was not
+till we had been in the grotto some time
+that our boatmen communicated this
+piece of information; we were disposed
+to reproach them for this delay, but they
+answered with the utmost simplicity,
+that if they told this at first to travellers,
+half of them would decline coming,
+and this would injure the boatmen.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I confess that this little piece of information
+raised a certain disquietude,
+and I found the azure grotto infinitely
+less agreeable to the imagination....
+We again laid ourselves down at the
+bottom of our respective canoes, and
+issued forth with the same precautions,
+and the same good fortune, with which
+we had entered. But we were some
+minutes before we could open our eyes;
+the burning sun upon the glittering
+ocean absolutely blinded us. We had
+not gone many yards, however, before
+the eye recovered itself, and all that we
+had seen in the azure grotto had the
+consistency of a dream.&quot;</p></div>
+
+<p>From Capri our travellers proceed
+to Sicily. We have a long story and
+a violent storm upon the passage, and
+are landed at Messina. Here M. Dumas
+enlarges his experience by an acquaintance
+with the <i>Sirocco</i>. His
+companion, M. Jadin, had been taken
+ill, and a physician had been called
+in.</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;The doctor had ordered that the
+patient (who was suffering under a fever)
+should be exposed to all the air
+possible, that doors and windows should
+be opened, and he should be placed in
+the current. This was done; but on the
+present evening, to my astonishment,
+instead of the fresh breeze of the night&mdash;which
+was wont to blow the fresher
+from our neighbourhood to the sea&mdash;there
+entered at the open window a dry
+hot wind like the air from a furnace. I
+waited for the morning, but the morning
+brought no change in the state of
+the atmosphere.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My patient had suffered greatly
+through the night. I rang the bell for
+some lemonade, the only drink the doctor
+had recommended; but no one answered
+the summons. I rang again, and a
+third time: still no one came; at length
+seeing that the mountain would not
+come to me, I went to the mountain. I
+wandered through the corridor, and entered
+apartment after apartment, and
+found no one to address. It was nine
+o'clock in the morning, yet the master
+and mistress of the house had not left
+their room, and not a domestic was at
+his post. It was quite incomprehensible.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I descended to the portico; I found
+him lying on an old sofa all in tatters,
+the principal ornament of his room, and
+asked him why the house was thus deserted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Ah, monsieur!' said he, 'do you not
+feel the sirocco?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Sirocco or not, is this a reason why
+no one should come when I call?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Oh, monsieur, when it is sirocco no
+one does any thing!'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'And your travellers, who is to wait
+upon them?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'On those days they wait upon themselves.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I begged pardon of this respectable
+official for having disturbed him; he
+heaved such a sigh as indicated that it
+required a great amount of Christian
+charity to grant the pardon I had asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The hour arrived when the doctor
+should have paid his visit, and no doctor
+came. I presumed that the sirocco detained
+him also; but as the state of
+Jadin appeared to me alarming, I resolved
+to go and rouse my Esculapius,
+and bring him, willing or unwilling, to
+the hotel. I took my hat and sallied
+forth.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Messina had the appearance of a
+city of the dead: not an inhabitant was
+walking in the streets, not a head was
+seen at the windows. The mendicants
+themselves (and he who has not seen the
+Sicilian mendicant, knows not what
+wretchedness is,) lay in the corners of
+the streets, stretched out, doubled up,
+panting, without strength to stretch out
+their hand for charity, or voice to ask
+an alms. Pompeii, which I visited three
+months afterwards, was not more silent,
+more solitary, more inanimate.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I reached the doctor's. I rang, I
+knocked, no one answered. I pushed
+against the door, it opened;&mdash;I entered,
+and pursued my search for the doctor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I traversed three or four apartments.
+There were women lying upon
+sofas, and children sprawling on the
+floor. Not one even raised a head to
+look at me. At last, in one of the
+rooms, the door of which was, like the
+rest, half-open, I found the man I was
+in quest of, stretched upon his bed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I went up to him, I took him by the
+hand, and felt his pulse.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Ah,' said he, with a melancholy
+voice, and scarcely turning his head towards
+me, 'Is that you? What can you
+want?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Want!--I want you to come and
+see my friend, who is no better, as it
+seems to me.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Go and see your friend!' cried
+the doctor, in a fright&mdash;'impossible!'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Why impossible?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He made a desperate effort to move,
+and taking his cane in his left hand,
+passed his right hand slowly down it,
+from the golden head that adorned it
+to the other extremity. 'Look you,'
+said he, 'my cane sweats.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And, in fact, there fell some globules
+of water from it, such an effect has
+this terrible wind even on inanimate
+things.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Well,' said I, 'and what does that
+prove?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'That proves, that at such a time
+as this, there are no physicians, all are
+patients.<a name="footnotetag3" id="footnotetag3"></a><a href="#footnote3"><sup>3</sup></a>'&quot;&mdash;P. 175.</p></div>
+
+<p>Seeing there was no chance of
+bringing the doctor to the hotel, unless
+he carried him there by main
+force, Mr Dumas contented himself
+with relating the symptoms of his
+friend. To drink lemonade&mdash;much
+lemonade&mdash;all the lemonade he could
+swallow, was the only prescription
+that the physician gave. And the
+simple remedy seems to have sufficed;
+for the patient shortly after recovered.</p>
+
+<p>Not the least agreeable portion of
+these travels, is the pleasant impression
+they leave of the traveller himself,
+one who has his humours doubtless,
+but who is social, buoyant,
+brave, generous, and enterprising. A
+Frenchman&mdash;as a chemist, in his peculiar
+language, would say&mdash;is a creature
+&quot;endowed with a considerable
+range of affinity.&quot; Our traveller has
+this range of affinity; he wins the
+heart of all and several&mdash;the crew of
+his <i>speronara.</i> We will close with
+the following extract, both because it
+shows the frank and lively feelings of
+the Frenchman, and because it introduces
+a name dear to all lovers of
+melody. The father of Bellini was a
+Sicilian, and Dumas was in Sicily.</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;It was while standing on this spot,
+that I asked my guide if he knew the
+father of Bellini. At this question he
+turned, and pointing out to me an old
+man who was passing in a little carriage
+drawn by one horse&mdash;'Look you,' said
+he, 'there he is, taking his ride into the
+country!'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I ran to the carriage and stopped
+it, knowing that he is never intrusive
+who speaks to a father of his son, and
+of such a son as Bellini's. At the first
+mention of his name, the old man took
+me by both hands, and asked me eagerly
+if I really knew his son. I drew from
+my portfolio a letter of introduction,
+which, on my departure from Paris,
+Bellini had given me for the Duchess de
+Noja, and asked him if he knew the
+handwriting. He took the letter in his
+hands, and answered only by kissing the
+superscription.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Ah,' said he, turning round to me,
+'you know not how good he is! We
+are not rich. Well, at each success there
+comes some remembrance, something to
+add to the ease and comfort of an old
+man. If you will come home with me,
+I will show you how many things I owe
+to his goodness. Every success brings
+something new. This watch I carry
+with me, was from <i>Norma</i>; this little
+carriage and horse, from <i>the Puritans</i>.
+In every letter that he writes, he says
+that he will come; but Paris is far from
+Sicily. I do not trust to this promise&mdash;I
+am afraid that I shall die without
+seeing him again. You will see him,
+you&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Yes,' I answered, 'and if you have
+any commission&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'No&mdash;what should I send him?&mdash;My
+blessing?&mdash;Dear boy, I give it him
+night and morning. But tell him you
+have given me a happy day by speaking
+to me of him&mdash;tell him that I embraced
+you as an old friend&mdash;(and he embraced
+me)&mdash;but you need not say that I was
+in tears. Besides,' he added, 'it is with
+joy that I weep.&mdash;And is it true that
+my son has a reputation?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Indeed a very great reputation.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'How strange!' said the old man,
+'who would have thought it, when I
+used to scold him, because, instead of
+working, he would be eternally beating
+time, and teaching his sister all the old
+Sicilian airs! Well, these things are
+written above. I wish I could see him
+before I die.&mdash;But your name?' he added,
+'I have forgotten all this time to
+ask your name.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I told him: it woke no recollection.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Alexandre Dumas, Alexandre Dumas,'
+he repeated two or three times, 'I
+shall recollect that he who bears that
+name has given me good news of my
+son. Adieu! Alexandre Dumas&mdash;I shall
+recollect that name&mdash;Adieu!'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Poor old man! I am sure he has
+not forgotten it; for the news I gave
+him of his son was the last he was ever
+to receive.&quot;&mdash;P. 226.</p></div>
+
+<p>Sicily is one of those <i>romantic</i>
+countries, where you may still meet
+with adventures in your travels, where
+you may be shot at by banditti with
+pointed hats and long guns. M. Dumas
+passes not without his share of
+such adventures. Perhaps, as Sicily
+is less trodden ground than Italy, his
+&quot;Souvenirs&quot; will be found more interesting
+as he proceeds. We have
+naturally taken our quotations in the
+order in which they presented themselves,
+and we have not advanced further
+than the second of the five delectably
+small volumes in which these
+travels are printed. Would our space
+permit us to proceed, it is probable
+that our extracts would increase, instead
+of diminishing, in interest.</p>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+<a name="bw329s2" id="bw329s2"></a><h2>AMMAL&Aacute;T BEK.</h2>
+
+<h3>A TRUE TALE OF THE CAUCASUS. FROM THE RUSSIAN OF MARL&Iacute;NSKI.</h3>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p><i>Fragments from the Diary of Ammal&aacute;t Bek.&mdash;Translated from the Tartar</i>.</p>
+
+<p>... Have I been asleep till
+now, or am I now in a dream?...
+This, then, is the new world called
+<i>thought</i>!... O beautiful world!
+thou hast long been to me cloudy
+and confused, like the milky way,
+which, they say, consists of thousands
+of glittering stars! It seems to me
+that I am ascending the mountain of
+knowledge from the valley of darkness
+and ignorance; each step opens
+to me views further and more extensive....
+My breast breathes freer,
+I gaze in the face of the sun....
+I look below&mdash;the clouds murmur under
+my feet!... annoying clouds!
+You prevent me from seeing the heavens
+from the earth; from the heaven
+to look upon the earth!</p>
+
+<p>I wonder how the commonest questions,
+<i>whence</i> and <i>how</i>, never before
+came into my head? All God's world,
+with every thing in it good or evil,
+was seen reflected in my soul as in
+the sea: I only knew as much of it
+as the sea does, or a mirror. In my
+memory, it is true, much was preserved:
+but to what end did this serve?
+Does the hawk understand why the
+hood is put on his head? Does the
+steed understand why they shoe him?
+Did I understand why in one place
+mountains are necessary, in another
+steppes, here eternal snows, there
+oceans of sand? Why storms and
+earthquakes were necessary? And
+thou, most wondrous being, Man!
+it never has entered my head to follow
+thee from thy cradle, suspended
+on a wandering mule, to that magnificent
+city which I have never seen,
+and which I am enchanted merely to
+have heard of!... I confess that I
+am already delighted with the mere
+outside of a book, without understanding
+the meaning of the mysterious
+letters ... but V. not only makes
+knowledge attractive, but gives me
+the means of acquiring it. With him,
+as a young swallow with its mother, I
+try my new wings.... The distance
+and the height still astonish, but no
+longer alarm me. The time will come
+when I shall mount upwards to the
+heavens!...</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+
+<p>... But yet, am I happy because
+V. and his books teach me to think?
+The time was, when a spirited steed,
+a costly sabre, a good gun, delighted
+me like a child. Now, that I know
+the superiority of mind over body,
+my former pride in shooting or horsemanship
+appears to me ridiculous&mdash;nay,
+even contemptible. Is it worth
+while to devote oneself to a trade, in
+which the meanest broad-shouldered
+no&uacute;ker can surpass me?... Is it
+worth while to seek honour and happiness,
+of which the first wound may
+deprive me&mdash;the first awkward leap?
+They have taken from me this plaything,
+but with what have they replaced it?...
+With new wants,
+with new wishes, which Allah himself
+can neither weary nor satisfy. I
+thought myself a man of consequence;
+but now I am convinced of my own
+nothingness. Formerly, to my memory,
+my grandfather and great-grandfather
+were at the beginning of
+the night of the past, with its stories
+and dreaming traditions.... The
+Caucasus contained my world, and I
+peacefully slept in that night. I
+thought to be famous in Daghest&aacute;n&mdash;the
+height of glory. And what then?
+History has peopled my former desert
+with nations, shattering each other
+for glory; with heroes, terrifying the
+nations by valour to which we can
+never rise. And where are they?
+Half forgotten, they have vanished in
+the dust of ages. The description of
+the earth shows me that the Tartars
+occupy a little corner of the world;
+that they are miserable savages in comparison
+with the European nations;
+and that of the existence, not only of
+their brave warriors, but of the whole
+nation, nobody thinks, nobody knows,
+nobody wishes to know. It is worth
+while to be a glow-worm amongst insects.
+Was it worth while to expand
+my mind, in order to be convinced of
+such a bitter truth?</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+
+<p>What is the use of a knowledge of
+the powers of nature to me, when I
+cannot change my soul, master my
+heart? The sea teaches me to build
+dykes&mdash;but I cannot restrain my tears!...
+I can conduct the lightning
+from the roof, but I cannot throw off
+my sorrows! Was I not unhappy
+enough from my feelings alone, without
+calling around me my thoughts,
+like greedy vultures? What does the
+sick man gain by knowing that his
+disease is incurable?... The tortures
+of my hopeless love have become
+sharper, more piercing, more various,
+since my intellect has been enlightened.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+
+<p>No! I am unjust. Reading shortens
+for me the long winter-like night&mdash;the
+hours of separation. In teaching
+me to fix on paper my flying
+thoughts, V. has given me a heartfelt
+enjoyment. Some day I shall
+meet Seltanetta, and I shall show her
+these pages; in which her name is
+written oftener than that of Allah in
+the Kor&aacute;n. &quot;These are the annals
+of my heart,&quot; I shall say: &quot;Look!
+on such a day thus thought about
+you&mdash;on such a night, I saw you thus
+in my dreams! By these little leaves,
+as by a string of diamond beads, you
+may count my sighs, my tears for
+you.&quot; O lovely, and beloved being!
+you will often smile at my strange
+phantasies&mdash;long will they supply
+matter for our conversations. But,
+by your side, enchantress, shall I be
+able to remember the past?... No,
+no!... Every thing before me,
+every thing around me, will then fade
+away, except the present bliss&mdash;to be
+with you! O, how burning, and how
+light will my soul be! Liquid sunshine
+will flow in my veins&mdash;I shall
+float in heaven, like the sun! To forget
+all by your side is a bliss prouder
+than the highest wisdom!</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+
+<p>I have read stories of love, of the
+charms of woman&mdash;of the perfidy of
+man&mdash;but no heroine approaches my
+Seltanetta in loveliness of soul or body&mdash;not
+one of the heroes do I resemble&mdash;I
+envy them the fascination, I admire
+the wisdom of lovers in books&mdash;but
+then, how weak, how cold is their
+love! It is a moonbeam playing on
+ice! Whence come these European
+babblers of Tharsis&mdash;these nightingales
+of the market-place&mdash;these sugared
+confections of flowers? I cannot
+believe that people can love passionately,
+and prate of their love&mdash;even
+as a hired mourner laments over
+the dead. The spendthrift casts his
+treasure by handfuls to the wind; the
+lover hides it, nurses it, buries it in
+his heart like a hoard.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+
+<p>I am yet young, and I ask &quot;what
+is friendship?&quot; I have a friend in
+V.&mdash;a loving, real, thoughtful friend;
+yet I am not <i>his</i> friend. I feel it, I
+reproach myself that I do not reciprocate
+his regard as I ought, as he
+deserves&mdash;but is in my power? In
+my soul there is no room for any one
+but Seltanetta&mdash;in my heart there is
+no feeling but love.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+
+<p>No! I cannot read, I cannot understand
+what the Colonel explains to
+me. I cheated myself when I thought
+that the ladder of science could be
+climbed by me ... I am weary at the
+first steps, I lose my way on the first
+difficulty, I entangle the threads, instead
+of unravelling them&mdash;I pull and
+tear them&mdash;and I carry off nothing of
+the prey but a few fragments. The
+<i>hope</i> which the Colonel held out to
+me I mistook for my own progress.
+But who&mdash;what&mdash;impedes this progress?
+That which makes the happiness
+and misery of my life&mdash;love.
+In every place, in every thing, I hear
+and see Seltanetta&mdash;and often Seltanetta
+alone. To banish her from my
+thoughts I should consider sacrilege;
+and, even if I wished, I could not perform
+the resolution. Can I see without
+light? Can I breathe without
+air? Seltanetta is my light, my air,
+my life, my soul!</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+
+<p>My hand trembles&mdash;my heart flutters
+in my bosom. If I wrote with
+my blood, 'twould scorch the paper.
+Seltanetta! your image pursues me
+dreaming or awake. The image of
+your charms is more dangerous than
+the reality. The thought that I may
+never possess them, touch them, see
+them, perhaps, plunges me into an incessant
+melancholy&mdash;at once I melt
+and burn. I recall each lovely feature,
+each attitude of your exquisite person&mdash;that
+little foot, the seal of love, that
+bosom, the gem of bliss! The remembrance
+of your voice makes my
+soul thrill like the chord of an instrument&mdash;ready
+to burst from the clearness
+of its tone&mdash;and your kiss! that
+kiss in which I drank your soul! It
+showers roses and coals of fire upon
+my lonely bed&mdash;I burn&mdash;my hot lips
+are tortured by the thirst for caresses&mdash;my
+hand longs to clasp your waist&mdash;to
+touch your knees! Oh, come&mdash;Oh,
+fly to me&mdash;that I may die in delight,
+as now I do in weariness!</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+
+<p>Colonel Verkh&oacute;ffsky, endeavouring
+by every possible means to divert Ammal&aacute;t's
+grief, thought of amusing him
+with a boar-hunt, the favourite occupation
+of the Beks of Daghest&aacute;n. In
+answer to his summons, there assembled
+about twenty persons, each attended
+by his no&uacute;kers, each eager to
+try his fortune, or to gallop about the
+field and vaunt his courage. Already
+had grey December covered the tops
+of the surrounding mountains with the
+first-fallen snow. Here and there in the
+streets of Derb&eacute;nd lay a crust of ice,
+but over it the mud rolled in sluggish
+waves along the uneven pavement.
+The sea lazily plashed against the
+sunken turrets of the walls which descended
+to the water, a flock of bustards
+and of geese whizzed through
+the fog, and flew with a complaining
+cry above the ramparts; all was dark
+and melancholy&mdash;even the dull and
+tiresome braying of the asses laden
+with faggots for the market, sounded
+like a dirge over the fine weather.
+The old Tartars sat in the baz&aacute;rs,
+wrapping their shoubes over their
+noses. But this is exactly the weather
+most favourable to hunters. Hardly
+had the mo&oacute;llahs of the town proclaimed
+the hour of prayer, when the
+Colonel, attended by several of his
+officers, the Beks of the city, and Ammal&aacute;t,
+rode, or rather swam, through
+the mud, leaving the town in the direction
+of the north, through the principal
+gate Keerkhl&aacute;r K&aacute;pi, which is
+covered with iron plates. The road
+leading to T&aacute;rki is rude in appearance,
+bordered for a few paces to the
+right and left with beds of madder&mdash;beyond
+them lie vast burying-grounds,
+and further still towards the sea, scattered
+gardens. But the appearance
+of the suburbs is a great deal more
+magnificent than those of the Southern
+ones. To the left, on the rocks
+were seen the Keif&aacute;rs, or barracks of
+the regiment of Ko&uacute;rin; while on both
+sides of the road, fragments of rock
+lay in picturesque disorder, rolled
+down in heaps by the violence of the
+mountain-torrents. A forest of ilex,
+covered with hoar-frost, thickened
+as it approached Vellikent, and at
+each verst the retinue of Verkh&oacute;ffsky
+was swelled by fresh arrivals of
+<i>Beglar</i> and <i>Agalar</i><a name="footnotetag4" id="footnotetag4"></a><a href="#footnote4"><sup>4</sup></a>. The hunting
+party now turned to the left, and they
+speedily heard the cry of the <i>ghay&aacute;lstchiks</i><a name="footnotetag5" id="footnotetag5"></a><a href="#footnote5"><sup>5</sup></a>
+assembled from the surrounding
+villages. The hunters formed
+into an extended chain, some on horseback,
+and some running on foot; and
+soon the wild-boars also began to show
+themselves.</p>
+
+<p>The umbrageous oak-forests of
+Daghest&aacute;n have served, from time
+immemorial, as a covert for innumerable
+herds of wild hogs; and although
+the Tartars&mdash;like the Mussulmans&mdash;hold
+it a sin not only to eat, but even
+to touch the unclean animal, they consider
+it a praiseworthy act to destroy
+them&mdash;at least they practise the art of
+shooting on these beasts, as well as
+exhibit their courage, because the
+chase of the wild-boar is accompanied
+by great danger, and requires cunning
+and bravery.</p>
+
+<p>The lengthened chain of hunters
+occupied a wide extent of ground;
+the most fearless marksmen selecting
+the most solitary posts, in order to divide
+with no one else the glory of success,
+and also because the animals
+make for those points where there are
+fewer people. Colonel Verkh&oacute;ffsky,
+confident in his gigantic strength and
+sure eye, posted himself in the thickest
+of the wood, and halted at a small
+savannah to which converged the
+tracks of numerous wild-boars. Perfectly
+alone, leaning against the branch
+of a fallen tree, he awaited his game.
+Interrupted shots were heard on the
+right and left of his station; for a
+moment a wild-boar appeared behind
+the trees; at length the bursting
+crash of falling underwood was heard,
+and immediately a boar of uncommon
+size darted across the field like a ball
+fired from a cannon. The Colonel
+took his aim, the bullet whistled, and
+the wounded monster suddenly halted,
+as if in surprise&mdash;but this was but for
+an instant&mdash;he dashed furiously in the
+direction whence came the shot. The
+froth smoked from his red-hot tusks,
+his eye burned in blood, and he flew
+at the enemy with a grunt. But
+Verkh&oacute;ffsky showed no alarm, waiting
+for the nearer approach of the brute:
+a second time clicked the cock of his
+gun&mdash;but the powder was damp and
+missed fire. What now remained for
+the hunter? He had not even a dagger
+at his girdle&mdash;flight would have
+been useless. As if by the anger of
+fate, not a single thick tree was near
+him&mdash;only one dry branch arose from
+the oak against which he had leaned;
+and Verkh&oacute;ffsky threw himself on it
+as the only means of avoiding destruction.
+Hardly had he time to
+clamber an arschine and a half<a name="footnotetag6" id="footnotetag6"></a><a href="#footnote6"><sup>6</sup></a> from
+the ground, when the boar, enraged
+to fury, struck the branch with
+his tusks&mdash;it cracked from the force
+of the blow and the weight which
+was supported by it.... It was in
+vain that Verkh&oacute;ffsky tried to climb
+higher&mdash;the bark was covered with ice&mdash;his
+hands slipped&mdash;he was sliding
+downwards; but the beast did not
+quit the tree&mdash;he gnawed it&mdash;he attacked
+it with his sharp tusks a <i>tch&eacute;tverin</i>
+below the feet of the hunter.
+Every instant Verkh&oacute;ffsky expected
+to be sacrificed, and his voice died
+away in the lonely space in vain.
+No, not in vain! The sound of a
+horse's hoofs was heard close at hand,
+and Ammal&aacute;t Bek galloped up at full
+speed with uplifted sabre. Perceiving
+a new enemy, the wild-boar turned at
+him, but a sideway leap of the horse
+decided the battle&mdash;a blow from Ammal&aacute;t
+hurled him on the earth.</p>
+
+<p>The rescued Colonel hurried to embrace
+his friend, but the latter was
+slashing, mangling, in a fit of rage,
+the slain beast. &quot;I accept not unmerited
+thanks,&quot; he answered at length,
+turning from the Colonel's embrace.
+&quot;This same boar gored before my
+eyes a Bek of Tabas&oacute;ran, my friend,
+when he, having missed him, had entangled
+his foot in the stirrup. I
+burned with anger when I saw my
+comrade's blood, and flew in pursuit
+of the boar. The closeness of the
+wood prevented me from following his
+track; I had quite lost him; and God
+has brought me hither to slay the accursed
+brute, when he was on the
+point of sacrificing a yet nobler victim&mdash;you,
+my benefactor.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now we are quits, dear Ammal&aacute;t.
+Do not talk of past events. This day
+our teeth shall avenge us on this tusked
+foe. I hope you will not refuse to
+taste the forbidden meat, Ammal&aacute;t?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not I! nor to wash it down with
+champagne, Colonel. Without offence
+to Mahomet, I had rather strengthen
+my soul with the foam of the
+wine, than with the water of the true
+believer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The hunt now turned to the other
+side. From afar were heard cries and
+hallooing, and the drums of the Tartars
+in the chase. From time to time
+shots rang through the air. A horse
+was led up to the Colonel: and he,
+feasting his sight with the boar, which
+was almost cut in two, patted Ammal&aacute;t
+on the shoulder, crying &quot;A brave
+blow!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In that blow exploded my revenge,&quot;
+answered the Bek; &quot;and the
+revenge of an Asiatic is heavy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have seen, you have witnessed,&quot;
+replied the Colonel, &quot;how
+injury is avenged by Russians&mdash;that
+is, by Christians; let this be not a
+reproach, but&mdash;a lesson to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And they both galloped off towards
+the Line.</p>
+
+<p>Ammal&aacute;t was remarkably absent&mdash;sometimes
+he did not answer at all&mdash;at
+others, he answered incoherently to
+the questions of Verkh&oacute;ffsky, by whom
+he rode, gazing abstractedly around
+him. The Colonel, thinking that, like
+an eager hunter, he was engrossed by
+the sport, left him, and rode forward.
+At last, Ammal&aacute;t perceived him whom
+he was so impatiently expecting, his
+hemdj&eacute;k, Saphir Ali, flew to meet him,
+covered with mud, and mounted on a
+smoking horse. With cries of &quot;Aleiko&uacute;m
+Selam,&quot; they both jumped off
+their horses, and were immediately
+locked in each other's embrace.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And so you have been there&mdash;you
+have seen her&mdash;you have spoken
+to her?&quot; cried Ammal&aacute;t, tearing off
+his kaft&aacute;n, and choking with agitation.
+&quot;I see by your face that you
+bring good news; here is my new
+<i>tchoukh&aacute;</i><a name="footnotetag7" id="footnotetag7"></a><a href="#footnote7"><sup>7</sup></a> for you for that. Does
+she live? Is she well? Does she love
+me as before?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let me recollect myself,&quot; answered
+Saphir Ali. &quot;Let me take
+breath. You have put so many questions,
+and I myself are charged with
+so many commissions, that they are
+crowding together like old women at
+the door of the mosque, who have
+lost their shoes. First, at your desire,
+I have been to Khounz&aacute;kh. I crept
+along so softly, that I did not scare a
+single thrush by the road. Sultan
+Akhmet Khan is well, and at home.
+He asked about you with great anxiety,
+shook his head, and enquired if
+you did not want a spindle to dry the
+silk of Derb&eacute;nd. The kh&aacute;nsha sends
+you tchokh selamm&oacute;um, (many compliments,)
+and as many sweet cakes.
+I threw them away, the confounded
+things, at the first resting-place.
+So&uacute;rkhai-Khan, Noutzal-Khan&quot;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The devil take them all! What
+about Seltanetta?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aha! at last I have touched the
+chilblain of your heart. Seltanetta,
+my dear Ammal&aacute;t, is as beautiful as
+the starry sky; but in that heaven I
+saw no light, until I conversed about
+you. Then she almost threw herself
+on my neck when we were left alone
+together, and I explained the cause of
+my arrival. I gave her a camel-load
+of compliments from you&mdash;told her
+that you were almost dead with love&mdash;poor
+fellow!--and she burst into
+tears!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Kind, lovely soul! What did
+she tell you to say to me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Better ask what she did not. She
+says that, from the time that you left
+her, she has never rejoiced even in her
+dreams; that the winter snow has
+fallen on her heart, and that nothing
+but a meeting with her beloved, like
+a vernal sun, can melt it.... But
+if I were to continue to the end of her
+messages, and you were to wait to the
+end of my story, we should both reach
+Derb&eacute;nd with grey beards. Spite of
+all this, she almost drove me away,
+hurrying me off, lest you should doubt
+her love!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Darling of my soul! you know
+not&mdash;I cannot explain what bliss it is
+to be with thee, what torment to be
+separated from thee, not to see
+thee!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is exactly the thing, Ammal&aacute;t;
+she grieves that she cannot rejoice
+her eyes with a sight of him
+whom she never can be weary of
+gazing at. 'Is it possible,' she says,
+'that he cannot come but for one little
+day, for one short hour, one little moment?'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To look on her, and then die, I
+would be content!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, when you behold her, you
+will wish to live. She is become
+quieter than she was of old; but even
+yet she is so lively, that when you see
+her your blood sparkles within you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you tell her why it is not in
+my power to do her will, and to accomplish
+my own passionate desire?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I related such tales that you would
+have thought me the Shah of Persia's
+chief poet. Seltanetta shed tears like
+a fountain after rain. She does nothing
+else but weep.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, then, reduce her to despair?
+'I cannot now' does not mean 'it is
+for ever impossible.' You know what
+a woman's heart is, Saphir Ali: for
+them the end of hope is the end of
+love.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You sow words on the wind,
+djann&iacute;on (my soul.) Hope, for lovers,
+is a skein of worsted&mdash;endless. In
+cool blood, you do not even trust your
+eyes; but fall in love, and you will
+believe in ghosts. I think that Seltanetta
+would hope that you could ride
+to her from your coffin&mdash;not only from
+Derb&eacute;nd.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And how is Derb&eacute;nd better than a
+coffin to me? Does not my heart feel
+its decay, without power to escape it?
+Here is only my corpse: my soul is far
+away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It seems that your senses often
+take the whim of walking I know not
+where, dear Ammal&aacute;t. Are you not
+well at Verkh&oacute;ffsky's&mdash;free and contented?
+beloved as a younger brother,
+caressed like a bride? Grant that Seltanetta
+is lovely: there are not many
+Verkh&oacute;ffskys. Cannot you sacrifice
+to friendship a little part of love?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Am not I then doing so, Saphir
+Ali? But if you knew how much it
+costs me! It is as if I tore my heart
+to pieces. Friendship is a lovely
+thing, but it cannot fill the place of
+love.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At least, it can console us for love&mdash;it
+can relieve it. Have you spoken
+about this to the Colonel?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot prevail on myself to do
+so. The words die on my lips, when
+I would speak of my love. He is so
+wise, that I am ashamed to annoy
+him with my madness. He is so kind,
+that I dare not abuse his patience.
+To say the truth, his frankness invites,
+encourages mine. Figure to
+yourself that he has been in love since
+his childhood with a maiden, to whom
+he was plighted, and whom he certainly
+would have married if his name
+had not been by mistake put into a
+list of killed during the war with the
+Feringhis. His bride shed tears, but
+nevertheless was given away in marriage.
+He flies back to his country,
+and finds his beloved the wife of another.
+What, think you, should I
+have done in such a case? Plunged
+a dagger in the breast of the robber
+of my treasure!--carried her away to
+the end or the world to possess her
+but one hour, but one moment! Nothing
+of this kind happened. He
+learned that his rival was an excellent
+and worthy man. He had the calmness
+to contract a friendship with him:
+had the patience to be often in the
+society of his former love, without
+betraying, either by word or deed, his
+new friend or his still loved mistress.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A rare man, if this be true!&quot; exclaimed
+Saphir Ali, with feeling,
+throwing away his reins. &quot;A stout
+friend indeed!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But what an icy lover! But this
+is not all. To relieve both of them
+from misrepresentation and scandal,
+he came hither on service. Not long
+ago&mdash;for his happiness or unhappiness&mdash;his
+friend died. And what then?
+Do you think he flew to Russia. No!
+his duty kept him away. The Commander-in-chief
+informed him that his
+presence was indispensable here for a
+year more, and he has remained&mdash;cherishing
+his love with hope. Can
+such a man, with all his goodness,
+understand such a passion as mine?
+And besides, there is such a difference
+between us in years, in opinions. He
+kills me with his unapproachable dignity;
+and all this cools my friendship,
+and impedes my sincerity.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are a strange fellow, Ammal&aacute;t;
+you do not love Verkh&oacute;ffsky for
+the very reason that he most merits
+frankness and affection!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who told you that I do not love
+him? How can I but love the man
+who has educated me&mdash;my benefactor?
+Can I not love any one but Seltanetta?
+I love the whole world&mdash;all men!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not much love, then, will fall to
+the share of each!&quot; said Saphir Ali.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There would be enough not only
+to quench the thirst, but to drown the
+whole world!&quot; replied Ammal&aacute;t, with
+a smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aha! This comes of seeing beauties
+unveiled&mdash;and then to see nothing
+but the veil and the eyebrows. It
+seems that you are like the nightingales
+of Ourmis; you must be caged
+before you can sing!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Conversing in this strain, the two
+friends disappeared in the depths of
+the forest.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;">
+<h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3>
+
+<p>FRAGMENT OF A LETTER FROM COLONEL VERKH&Oacute;FFSKY TO HIS BETROTHED.</p>
+<br>
+
+<p><i>Derb&eacute;nd, April.</i></p>
+
+<p>Fly to, me, heart of my heart,
+dearest Maria! Rejoice in the sight
+of a lovely vernal night in Daghest&aacute;n.
+Beneath me lies Derb&eacute;nd, slumbering
+calmly, like a black streak of lava
+flowing from the Caucasus and cooled
+in the sea. The gentle breeze bears
+to me the fragrant odour of the almond-trees,
+the nightingales are calling
+to each other from the rock-crevices,
+behind the fortress: all breathes
+of life and love; and beautiful nature,
+full of this feeling, covers herself with
+a veil of mists. And how wonderfully
+has that vaporous ocean poured
+itself over the Caspian! The sea
+below gleams wavingly, like steel damasked
+with gold on an escutcheon&mdash;that
+above swells like a silver surge
+lighted by the full moon, which rolls
+along the sky like a cup of gold, while
+the stars glitter around like scattered
+drops. In a moment, the reflection of
+the moonbeams in the vapours of the
+night changes the picture, anticipating
+the imagination, now astounding
+by its marvels&mdash;now striking by its
+novelty. Sometimes I seem to behold
+the rocks of the wild shore, and
+the waves beating against them in
+foam. The billows roll onward to the
+charge: the rocky ramparts repel the
+shock, and the surf flies high above
+them; but silently and slowly sink
+the waves, and the silver palms arise
+from the midst of the inundation, the
+breeze stirs their branches, playing
+with the long leaves, and they spread
+like the sails of a ship gliding over
+the airy ocean. Do you see how she
+rolls along, how the spray-drops
+sparkle on her breast, how the waves
+slide along her sides. And where is
+she?... and where am I?...
+You cannot imagine, dearest Maria,
+the sweetly solemn feeling produced
+in me by the sound and sight of the
+sea. To me, the idea of eternity is
+inseparable from it; of immensity&mdash;of
+our love. That love seems to me,
+like it, infinite&mdash;eternal. I feel as if
+my heart overflowed to embrace the
+world, even as the ocean, with its
+bright waves of love. It is in me and
+around me; it is the only great and
+immortal feeling which I possess. Its
+spark lights and warms me in the
+winter of my sorrows, in the midnight
+of my doubts. Then I love so blindly!
+I believe so ardently! You smile
+at my fantasy, friend and companion
+of my soul. You wonder at this dark
+language; blame me not. My spirit,
+like the denizen of another world,
+cannot bear the chill and frosty moonlight&mdash;it
+shakes off the dust of the
+grave; it soars away, and, like the
+moonlight, dimly discovers all things
+darkly and uncertainly. You know
+that it is to you alone that I write
+down the pictures which fall on the
+magic-glass of my heart, assured that
+you will guess, not with cold criticism,
+but with the heart, what I would describe.
+Besides, next August, your
+happy bridegroom will himself explain
+all the dark passages in his letters.
+I cannot think without ecstasy of the
+moment of our meeting. I count the
+sand-grains of the hours which separate
+us. I count the versts which lie
+between us. And so in the middle of
+June you will be at the waters of the
+Caucasus. And nought but the icy
+chain of the Caucasus will be between
+two ardent hearts.... How near&mdash;yet
+how immeasurably far shall we be
+from each other! Oh! how many
+years of life would I not give to hasten
+the hour of our meeting! Long,
+long, have our hearts been plighted....
+Why have they been separated
+till now?</p>
+
+<p>My friend Ammal&aacute;t is not frank or
+confiding. I cannot blame him. I
+know how difficult it is to break
+through habits imbibed with a mother's
+milk, and with the air of one's
+native land. The barbarian despotism
+of Persia, which has so long oppressed
+Aderbidj&aacute;n, has instilled the basest
+principles into the Tartars of the Caucasus,
+and has polluted their sense of
+honour by the most despicable subterfuge.
+And how could it be otherwise
+in a government based upon the
+tyranny of the great over the less&mdash;where
+justice herself can punish only
+in secret&mdash;where robbery is the privilege
+of power? &quot;Do with me what
+you like, provided you let me do with
+my inferior what I like,&quot; is the principle
+of Asiatic government&mdash;its ambition,
+its morality. Hence, every
+man, finding himself between two
+enemies, is obliged to conceal his
+thoughts, as he hides his money.
+Hence every man plays the hypocrite
+before the powerful; every man endeavours
+to force from others a present
+by tyranny or accusation. Hence
+the Tartar of this country will not
+move a step, but with the hope of
+gain; will not give you so much as a
+cucumber, without expecting a present
+in return.</p>
+
+<p>Insolent to rudeness with every one
+who is not in power, he is mean and
+slavish before rank or a full purse.
+He sows flattery by handfuls; he will
+give you his house, his children, his
+soul, to get rid of a difficulty, and if
+he does any body a service, it is sure
+to be from motives of interest.</p>
+
+<p>In money matters (this is the weakest
+side of a Tartar) a ducat is the
+touchstone of his fidelity; and it is
+difficult to imagine the extent of their
+greediness for profit! The Armenian
+character is yet a thousand times more
+vile than theirs; but the Tartars
+hardly yield to them in corruption
+and greediness&mdash;and this is saying a
+good deal. Is it surprising that, beholding
+from infancy such examples,
+Ammal&aacute;t&mdash;though he has retained the
+detestation of meanness natural to
+pure blood&mdash;should have adopted concealment
+as an indispensable arm
+against open malevolence and secret
+villany? The sacred ties of relationship
+do not exist for Asiatics. With
+them, the son is the slave of the father&mdash;the
+brother is a rival. No one trusts
+his neighbour, because there is no
+faith in any man. Jealousy of their
+wives, and dread of espionage, destroy
+brotherly love and friendship.
+The child brought up by his slave-mother&mdash;never
+experiencing a father's
+caress, and afterwards estranged by
+the Arabian alphabet, (education,)
+hides his feelings in his own heart
+even from his companions; from his
+childhood, thinks only for himself;
+from the first beard are every door,
+every heart shut for him: husbands
+look askance at him, women fly from
+him as from a wild beast, and the first
+and most innocent emotions of his
+heart, the first voice of nature, the
+first movements of his feelings&mdash;all
+these have become crimes in the eyes
+of Mahometan superstition. He dares
+not discover them to a relation, or
+confide them to a friend.... He
+must even weep in secret.</p>
+
+<p>All this I say, my sweet Maria, to
+excuse Ammal&aacute;t: he has already
+lived a year and a half in my house,
+and hitherto has never confessed to
+me the object of his love; though he
+might well have known, that it was
+from no idle curiosity, but from a real
+heartfelt interest, that I wished to
+know the secret of his heart. At last,
+however, he has told me all; and thus
+it happened.</p>
+
+<p>Yesterday I took a ride out of the
+town with Ammal&aacute;t. We rode up
+through a defile in the mountain on
+the west, and we advanced further
+and further, higher and higher, till we
+found ourselves unexpectedly close to
+the village of Kel&iacute;k, from which may
+be seen the wall that anciently defended
+Persia from the incursions of
+the wandering tribes inhabiting the
+Zakavk&aacute;z, (trans-Caucasian country,)
+which often devastated that territory.
+The annals of Derb&eacute;nd (Derb&eacute;ndn&aacute;m&eacute;)
+ascribe, but falsely, the construction
+of it to a certain Iskender&mdash;<i>i.e.</i>
+Alexander the Great&mdash;who, however,
+never was in these regions.
+King Noushirv&aacute;n repaired it, and
+placed a guard along it. More than
+once since that time it has been restored;
+and again it fell into ruin, and
+became overgrown, as it now is, with
+the trees of centuries. A tradition
+exists, that this wall formerly extended
+from the Caspian to the Black Sea,
+cutting through the whole Caucasus,
+and having for its extremity the &quot;iron
+gate&quot; of Derb&eacute;nd, and Dari&aacute;l in its
+centre; but this is more than doubtful
+as far as regards the general facts,
+though certain in the particulars. The
+traces of this wall, which are to be
+seen far into the mountains, are interrupted
+here and there, but only by
+fallen stones or rocks and ravines, till
+it reaches the military road; but from
+thence to the Black Sea, through Mingrelia,
+I think there are no traces of
+its continuation.</p>
+
+<p>I examined, with curiosity, this
+enormous wall, fortified by numerous
+towers at short distance; and I wondered
+at the grandeur of the ancients,
+exhibited even in their unreasonable
+caprices of despotism&mdash;that greatness
+to which the effeminate rulers of the
+East cannot aspire, in our day, even
+in imagination. The wonders of Babylon,
+the lake of M&oelig;ris, the pyramids
+of the Pharaohs, the endless wall
+of China, and this huge bulwark, built
+in sterile places, on the summits of
+mountains, through the abyss of ravines&mdash;bear
+witness to the gigantic
+iron will, and the unlimited power, of
+the ancient kings. Neither time, nor
+earthquake, nor man, transitory man,
+nor the footstep of thousands of years,
+have entirely destroyed, entirely trodden
+down, the remains of immemorial
+antiquity. These places awake in me
+solemn and sacred thoughts. I wandered
+over the traces of Peter the
+Great; I pictured him the founder,
+the reformer, of a young state&mdash;building
+it on these ruins of the decaying
+monarchies of Asia, from the centre
+of which he tore out Russia, and with
+a mighty hand rolled her into Europe.
+What a fire must have gleamed in his
+eagle eye, as he glanced from the
+heights of Caucasus! What sublime
+thoughts, what holy aspirations, must
+have swelled that heroic breast! The
+grand destiny of his country was disclosed
+before his eyes; in the horizon,
+in the mirror of the Caspian,
+appeared to him the picture of Russia's
+future weal, sown by him, and
+watered by his red sweat. It was not
+empty conquest that was his aim, but
+victory over barbarism&mdash;the happiness
+of mankind. Derb&eacute;nd, B&aacute;ka, Astrab&aacute;d,
+they are the links of the chain
+with which he endeavoured to bind
+the Caucasus, and rivet the commerce
+of India with Russia.</p>
+
+<p>Demigod of the North! Thou
+whom nature created at once to flatter
+the pride of man, and to reduce it
+to despair by thine unapproachable
+greatness! Thy shade rose before
+me, bright and colossal, and the cataract
+of ages fell foaming at thy feet!
+Pensive and silent, I rode on.</p>
+
+<p>The wall of the Caucasus is faced
+on the north side with squared stones,
+neatly and firmly fixed together with
+lime. Many of the battlements are
+still entire; but feeble seeds, falling
+into the crevices and joints, have burst
+them asunder with the roots of trees
+growing from them, and, assisted by
+the rains, have thrown the stones to
+the earth, and over the ruins triumphantly
+creep mallows and pomegranates;
+the eagle, unmolested, builds
+her nest in the turret once crowded
+with warriors, and on the cold hearthstone
+lie the fresh bones of the wild-goat,
+dragged thither by the jackals.
+Sometimes the line of the ruins
+entirely disappeared; then fragments
+of the stones again rose from among
+the grass and underwood. Riding in
+this way, a distance of about three
+versts, we reached the gate, and passed
+through to the south side, under a
+vaulted arch, lined with moss and
+overgrown with shrubs. We had not
+advanced twenty paces, when suddenly,
+behind an enormous tower, we
+came upon six armed mountaineers,
+who seemed, by all appearance, to
+belong to those gangs of robbers&mdash;the
+free Tabasaranetzes. They were
+lying in the shade, close to their horses,
+which were feeding. I was astounded.
+I immediately reflected how foolishly
+I had acted in riding so far from
+Derb&eacute;nd without an escort. To gallop
+back, among such bushes and rocks,
+would have been impossible; to fight
+six such desperate fellows, would have
+been foolhardiness. Nevertheless, I
+seized a holster-pistol; but Ammal&aacute;t
+Bek, seeing how matters stood,
+advanced, and cried in a calm slow
+voice: &quot;Do not handle your arms,
+or we are dead men!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The robbers, perceiving us, jumped
+up and cocked their guns, one fine,
+broad-shouldered, but extremely
+savage-looking Lezgh&iacute;n, remaining
+stretched on the ground. He lifted
+his head coolly, looked at us, and
+waved his hand to his companions.
+In a moment we found ourselves
+surrounded by them, while a path in
+front was stopped by the Ataman.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pray, dismount from your horses,
+dear guests,&quot; said he with a smile,
+though one could see that the next
+invitation would be a bullet. I
+hesitated; but Ammal&aacute;t Bek jumped
+speedily from his horse, and walked
+up to the Ataman.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hail!&quot; He said to him: &quot;hail,
+sorvi golov&aacute;! I thought not of seeing
+you. I thought the devils had
+long ago made a feast of you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Softly, Ammal&aacute;t Bek!&quot; answered
+the other; &quot;I hope yet to feed
+the eagles with the bodies of the
+Russians and of you Tartars, whose
+purse is bigger than your heart.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, and what luck, Shermad&aacute;n?&quot;
+carelessly enquired Ammal&aacute;t
+Bek.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But poor. The Russians are
+watchful: and we have seldom been
+able to drive the cattle of a regiment,
+or to sell two Russian soldiers at a
+time in the hills. It is difficult to
+transport madder and silk; and of
+Persian tissue, very little is now carried
+on the arb&aacute;s. We should have had
+to quest like wolves again to-day, but
+Allah has had mercy; he has given
+into our hands a rich bek and a
+Russian colonel!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>My heart died within me, as I heard
+these words.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not sell a hawk in the sky:
+sell him,&quot; answered Ammal&aacute;t, &quot;when
+you have him on your glove.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The robber sat down, laid his hand
+on the cock of his gun, and fixed on
+us a piercing look. &quot;Hark'e,
+Ammal&aacute;t!&quot; said he; &quot;is it possible that
+you think to escape me?&mdash;is it possible
+that you will dare to defend yourselves?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Be quiet,&quot; said Ammal&aacute;t; &quot;are
+we fools, to fight two to six? Gold
+is dear to us, but dearer is our life.
+We have fallen into your hands, so
+there is nothing to be done, unless
+you extort an unreasonable price for
+our ransom. I have, as you know,
+neither father nor mother: and the
+Colonel has yet less&mdash;neither kinsmen
+nor tribe.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you have no father, you have
+your father's inheritance. There is
+no need then to count your relations
+with you: however, I am a man of
+conscience. If you have no ducats, I
+will take your ransom in sheep. But
+about the colonel, don't talk any more
+nonsense. I know for him the soldiers
+would give the last button on
+their uniforms. Why, if for Sh&mdash;&mdash;
+a ransom of ten thousand rubles was
+paid, they will give more for this
+man. However, we shall see, we shall
+see. If you will be quiet.... Why,
+I am not a Jew, or a cannibal&mdash;Pervi&aacute;der
+(the Almighty) forgive me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now that's it, friend: feed us
+well, and I swear and promise by my
+honour, we will never think of harming
+you&mdash;nor of escaping.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I believe, I believe! I am glad
+we have arranged without making any
+noise about it. What a fine fellow you
+have become, Ammal&aacute;t! Your horse
+is not a horse, your gun is not a gun:
+it is a pleasure to look at you; and
+this is true. Let me look at your
+dagger, my friend. Surely this is the
+Koubatch&iacute;n mark upon the blade.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, the Kizli&aacute;r mark,&quot; replied
+Ammal&aacute;t, quietly unbuckling the
+dagger-belt from his waist; &quot;and look
+at the blade. Wonderful! it cuts a
+nail in two like a candle. On this
+side is the maker's name; there&mdash;read
+it yourself: Ali&oacute;usta&mdash;K&oacute;za&mdash;Nishtshek&oacute;i.&quot;
+And while he spoke, he
+twirled the naked blade before the
+eyes of the greedy Lezgh&iacute;n, who
+wished to show that he knew how to
+read, and was decyphering the
+complicated inscription with some
+difficulty. But suddenly the dagger
+gleamed like lightning.... Ammal&aacute;t,
+seizing the opportunity, struck
+Shermad&aacute;n with all his might on the
+head; and so fierce was the blow, that
+the dagger was stopped by the teeth
+of the lower jaw. The corpse fell
+heavily on the grass. Keeping my
+eyes upon Ammal&aacute;t, I followed his
+example, and with my pistol shot the
+robber who was next me, and had hold
+of my horse's bridle. This was to the
+others a signal for flight; the rascals
+vanished; for the death of their Ataman
+dissolved the knot of the leash
+which bound them together. Whilst
+Ammal&aacute;t, after the oriental fashion,
+was stripping the dead of their arms,
+and tying together the reins of the
+abandoned horses, I lectured him on
+his dissembling and making a false
+oath to the robber. He lifted up his
+head with astonishment: &quot;You are a
+strange man, Colonel!&quot; he replied.
+&quot;This rascal has done an infinity of
+harm to the Russians, by secretly
+setting fire to their stacks of hay, or
+seizing and carrying straggling
+soldiers and wood-cutters into slavery.
+Do you know that he would have
+tyrannized over us&mdash;or even tortured us,
+to make us write more movingly to
+our kinsmen, to induce them to pay
+a larger ransom?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It may be so, Ammal&aacute;t, but to
+lie or to swear an oath, either in jest
+or to escape misfortune, is wrong.
+Why could we not have thrown
+ourselves directly at the robbers, and have
+begun as you finished?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, Colonel, we could not. If I
+had not entered into conversation
+with the Ataman, we should have
+been riddled with balls at the first
+movement. Moreover, I know that
+pack right well: they are brave only
+in the presence of their Ataman, and
+it was with him it was necessary to
+begin!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I shook my head. The Asiatic
+cunning, though it had saved my life,
+could not please me. What confidence
+can I have in people accustomed
+to sport with their honour and their
+soul? We were about to mount our
+horses, when we heard a groan from
+the mountaineer who had been wounded
+by me. He came to himself, raised
+his head, and piteously besought us
+not to leave him to be devoured by the
+beasts of the forest. We both
+hastened to assist the poor wretch; and
+what was Ammal&aacute;t's astonishment
+when he recognized in him one of the
+no&uacute;kers of Sultan Akhmet Khan of
+Av&aacute;r. To the question how he
+happened to be one of a gang of robbers,
+he replied: &quot;Shair&aacute;n tempted me:
+the Khan sent me into Kem&eacute;k, a
+neighbouring village, with a letter to
+the famous Hak&iacute;m (Doctor) Ibrahim,
+for a certain herb, which they say
+removes every ailment, as easily as if
+it were brushed away with the hand.
+To my sorrow, Shermad&aacute;n met me in
+the way! He teazed me, saying,
+'Come with me, and let us rob on the
+road. An Armenian is coming from
+Kouba with money.' My young heart
+could not resist this ... oh,
+Allah-il-Allah! He hath taken my soul
+from me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They sent you for physic, you
+say,&quot; replied Ammal&aacute;t: &quot;why, who
+is sick with you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Our Khan&oacute;um Seltanetta is dying:
+here is the writing to the leech
+about her illness:&quot; with these words
+he gave Ammal&aacute;t a silver tube, in
+which was a small piece of paper rolled
+up. Ammal&aacute;t turned as pale as death;
+his hands shook&mdash;his eyes sank under
+his eyebrows when he had read the
+note: with a broken voice he uttered
+detached words. &quot;Three nights&mdash;and
+she sleeps not, eats not&mdash;delirious!--her
+life is in danger&mdash;save her! O
+God of righteousness&mdash;and I am idling
+here&mdash;leading a life of holidays&mdash;and
+my soul's soul is ready to quit the
+earth, and leave me a rotten corse!
+Oh that all her sufferings could fall on
+my head! and that I could lie in her
+coffin, if that would restore her to
+health. Sweetest and loveliest! thou
+art fading, rose of Av&aacute;r, and destiny
+has stretched out her talons over thee.
+Colonel,&quot; he cried at length, seizing
+my hand, &quot;grant my only, my solemn
+prayer&mdash;let me but once more look on
+her!&quot;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;On whom, my friend?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;On my Seltanetta&mdash;on the daughter
+of the Khan of Av&aacute;r&mdash;whom I love
+more than my life, than my soul! She
+is ill, she is dying&mdash;perhaps dead by
+this time&mdash;while I am wasting words&mdash;and
+I could not receive into my heart
+her last word&mdash;her last look&mdash;could
+not wipe away the icy tear of death!
+Oh, why do not the ashes of the ruined
+sun fall on my head&mdash;why will not the
+earth bury me in its ruins!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He fell on my breast, choking with
+grief, in a tearless agony, unable to
+pronounce a word.</p>
+
+<p>This was not a time for accusations
+of insincerity, much less to set forth
+the reasons which rendered it
+unadvisable for him to go among the enemies
+of Russia. There are circumstances
+before which all reasons must
+give way, and I felt that Ammal&aacute;t
+was in such circumstances. On my
+own responsibility I resolved to let
+him go. &quot;He that obliges from the
+heart, and speedily, twice obliges,&quot; is
+my favourite proverb, and best maxim.
+I pressed in my embrace the unhappy
+Tartar, and we mingled our tears together.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My friend Ammal&aacute;t,&quot; said I,
+&quot;hasten where your heart calls you.
+God grant that you may carry thither
+health and recovery, and bring back
+peace of mind! A happy journey!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Farewell, my benefactor,&quot; he cried,
+deeply touched, &quot;farewell, and
+perhaps for ever! I will not return to
+life, if Allah takes from me my Seltanetta.
+May God keep you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He took the wounded Av&aacute;retz to the
+Hak&iacute;m Ibrahim, received the medicinal
+herb according to the Khan's prescription,
+and in an hour Ammal&aacute;t
+Bek, with four no&uacute;kers, rode out of
+Derb&eacute;nd.</p>
+
+<p>And so the riddle is guessed&mdash;he
+loves. This is unfortunate, but what
+is yet worse, he is beloved in return.
+I fancy, my love, that I see your
+astonishment. &quot;Can that be a misfortune
+to another, which to you is happiness?&quot;
+you ask. A grain of patience,
+my soul's angel! The Khan,
+the father of Seltanetta, is the irreconcilable
+foe of Russia, and the more so
+because, having been distinguished by
+the favour of the Czar, he has turned
+a traitor; consequently a marriage is
+possible only on condition of Ammal&aacute;t's
+betraying the Russians, or in case
+of the Khan's submission and pardon&mdash;both
+cases being far from probable.
+I myself have experienced misery and
+hopelessness in love; I have shed many
+tears on my lonely pillow; often have
+I thirsted for the shade of the grave,
+to cool my anguished heart! Can I,
+then, help, pitying this youth, the
+object of my disinterested regard, and
+lamenting his hopeless love? But this
+will not build a bridge to good-fortune;
+and I therefore think, that if
+he had not the ill-luck to be beloved
+in return, he would by degrees forget
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But,&quot; you say, (and methinks I
+hear your silvery voice, and am
+revelling in your angel's smile,) &quot;but
+circumstances may change for them, as
+they have changed for us. Is it
+possible that misfortune alone has the
+privilege of being eternal in the world?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I do not dispute this, my beloved,
+but I confess with a sigh that I am
+in doubt. I even fear for them and
+for ourselves. Destiny smiles before
+us, hope chaunts sweet music&mdash;but
+destiny is a sea&mdash;hope but a sea-syren;
+deceitful is the calm of the
+one, fatal are the promises of the
+other. All appears to aid our union&mdash;but
+are we yet together? I know
+not why, lovely Mary, but a chill
+penetrates my breast, amid the warm
+fountains of future bliss, and the idea
+of our meeting has lost its distinctness.
+But all this will pass away, all will
+change into happiness, when I press
+your hand to my lips, your heart to
+mine. The rainbow shines yet brighter
+on the dark field of the cloud, and the
+happiest moments of life are but the
+anticipations of sorrow.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;">
+<h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Ammal&aacute;t knocked up two horses,
+and left two of his no&uacute;kers on the
+road, so that at the end of the second
+day he was not far from Khounz&aacute;kh.
+At each stride his impatience grew
+stronger, and with each stride increased
+his fear of not finding his beloved
+amongst the living. A fit of trembling
+came over him when from the rocks
+the tops of the Khan's tower arose
+before him. His eyes grew dark.
+&quot;Shall I meet there life or death?&quot;
+he whispered to himself, and arousing
+a desperate courage, he urged his
+horse to a gallop.</p>
+
+<p>He came up with a horseman
+completely armed: another horseman
+rode out of Khounz&aacute;kh to meeting,
+and hardly did they perceive one another
+when they put their horses to
+full speed, rode up to each other, leaped
+down upon the earth, and suddenly
+drawing their swords, threw themselves
+with fury upon each other without
+uttering a word, as if blows were
+the customary salutation of travellers.
+Ammal&aacute;t Bek, whose passage they intercepted
+along the narrow path between
+the rocks, gazed with astonishment
+on the combat of the two adversaries.
+It was short. The horseman
+who was approaching the town
+fell on the stones, bedewing them with
+blood from a gash which laid open his
+skull; and the victor, coolly wiping his
+blade, addressed himself to Ammal&aacute;t:
+&quot;Your coming is opportune: I am
+glad that destiny has brought you in
+time to witness our combat. God, and
+not I, killed the offender; and now
+his kinsmen will not say that I killed
+my enemy stealthily from behind a
+rock, and will not raise upon my head
+the feud of blood.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Whence arose your quarrel with
+him?&quot; asked Ammal&aacute;t: &quot;why did
+you conclude it with such a terrible
+revenge?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This Khar&aacute;m-Z&aacute;da,&quot; answered
+the horseman, &quot;could not agree with
+me about the division of some stolen
+sheep, and in spite he killed them all
+so that nobody should have them ... and
+he dared to slander my wife. He
+had better have insulted my father's
+grave, or my mother's good name,
+than have touched the reputation of
+my wife! I once flew at him with my
+dagger, but they parted us: we agreed
+to fight at our first encounter, and
+Allah has judged between us! The
+Bek is doubtless riding to Khounz&aacute;kh&mdash;surely
+on a vizit to the Khan?&quot;
+added the horseman.</p>
+
+<p>Ammal&aacute;t, forcing his horse to leap
+over the dead body which lay across
+the road, replied in the affirmative.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You go not at a fit time, Bek&mdash;not
+at all at a fit time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>All Ammal&aacute;t's blood rushed to his
+head. &quot;Why, has any misfortune
+happened in the Khan's house?&quot; he
+enquired, reining in his horse, which
+he had just before lashed with the
+whip to force him faster to Khounz&aacute;kh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not exactly a misfortune, his
+daughter Seltanetta was severely ill,
+and now&quot;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is dead?&quot; cried Ammal&aacute;t, turning
+pale.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps she is dead&mdash;at least dying.
+As I rode past the Khan's gate,
+there arose a bustling, crying, and
+yelling of women in the court, as if
+the Russians were storming Khounz&aacute;kh.
+Go and see&mdash;do me the favour&quot;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>But Ammal&aacute;t heard no more, he
+dashed away from the astounded Ouzd&eacute;n;
+the dust rolled like smoke from
+the road, which seemed to be set on
+fire by the sparks from the horse's
+hoofs. Headlong he galloped through
+the winding streets, flew up the hill,
+bounded from his horse in the midst
+of the Khan's court-yard, and raced
+breathlessly through the passages to
+Seltanetta's apartment, overthrowing
+and jostling no&uacute;kers and maidens,
+and at last, without remarking the
+Khan or his wife, pushed himself to
+the bed of the sufferer, and fell, almost
+senseless, on his knees beside it.</p>
+
+<p>The sudden and noisy arrival of
+Ammal&aacute;t aroused the sad society present.
+Seltanetta, whose existence
+death was already overpowering,
+seemed as if awakening from the deep
+forgetfulness of fever; her cheeks
+flushed with a transient colour, like
+that on the leaves of autumn before
+they fall: in her clouded eye beamed
+the last spark of the soul. She lad
+been for several hours in a complete
+insensibility; she was speechless,
+motionless, hopeless. A murmur of
+anger from the bystanders, and a loud
+exclamation from the stupefied Ammal&aacute;t,
+seemed to recall the departing
+spirit of the sick, she started up&mdash;her
+eyes sparkled.... &quot;Is it thou&mdash;is
+it thou?&quot; she cried, stretching, forth
+her arms to him: &quot;praise be to Allah!
+now I am contented, now I am
+happy,&quot; she added, sinking back on
+the pillow. Her lips wreathed into a
+smile, her eyelids closed, and again
+she sank into her former insensibility.</p>
+
+<p>The agonized Asiatic paid no attention
+to the questions of the Khan,
+or the reproaches of the Kh&aacute;nsha:
+no person, no object distracted his
+attention from Seltanetta&mdash;nothing
+could arouse him from his deep despair.
+They could hardly lead him
+by force from the sick chamber; he
+clung to the threshold, he wept bitterly,
+at one moment praying for the
+life of Seltanetta, at another accusing
+heaven of her illness! Terrible, yet
+moving, was the grief of the fiery
+Asiatic.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, the appearance of Ammal&aacute;t
+had produced a salutary influence
+on the sick girl. What the rude
+physicians of the mountains were unable
+to accomplish, was effected by
+his arrival. The vital energy, which
+had been almost extinguished, needed
+some agitation to revivify its action;
+but for this she must have perished,
+not from the disease, which had been
+already subdued, but from languor&mdash;as
+a lamp, not blown out by the wind,
+but failing for lack of air. Youth at
+length gained the victory; the crisis
+was past, and life again arose in the
+heart of the sufferer. After a long
+and quiet slumber, she awoke unusually
+strengthened and refreshed.
+&quot;I feel myself as light, mother,&quot; she
+cried, looking gaily around her, &quot;as
+if I were made wholly of air. Ah,
+how sweet it is to recover from illness;
+it seems as if the walls were
+smiling upon me. Yet, I have been
+very ill&mdash;long ill. I have suffered
+much; but, thanks to Allah! I am now
+only weak, and that will soon pass
+away. I feel health rolling, like drops
+of pearl, through my veins. All the
+past seems to me a sort of dark vision.
+I fancied that I was sinking into a
+cold sea, and that I was parched with
+thirst: far away, methought, there
+hovered two little stars; the darkness
+thickened and thickened; I sank
+deeper, deeper yet. All at once it
+seemed as if some one called me by
+my name, and with a mighty hand
+dragged me from that icy, shoreless
+sea. Ammal&aacute;t's face glanced before
+me, almost like a reality; the little
+stars broke into a lightning-flash,
+which writhed like a serpent to my
+heart: I remember no more!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>On the following day Ammal&aacute;t
+was allowed to see the convalescent.
+Sultan Akhmet Khan, seeing that it
+was impossible to obtain a coherent
+answer from him while suspense tortured
+his heart, that heart which boiled
+with passion, yielded to his incessant
+entreaties. &quot;Let all rejoice
+when I rejoice,&quot; he said, as he led his
+guest into his daughter's room. This
+had been previously announced to
+Seltanetta, but her agitation, nevertheless,
+was very great, when her
+eyes met those of Ammal&aacute;t&mdash;Ammal&aacute;t,
+so deeply loved, so long and fruitlessly
+expected. Neither of the lovers
+could pronounce a word, but the ardent
+language of their looks expressed
+a long tale, imprinted in burning letters
+on the tablet of their hearts. On
+the pale cheek of each other they read
+the traces of sorrow, the tears of separation,
+the characters of sleeplessness
+and grief, of fear and of jealousy.
+Entrancing is the blooming loveliness
+of an adored mistress; but her paleness,
+her languor, that is bewitching,
+enchanting, victorious! What heart
+of iron would not be melted by that
+tearful glance, which, without a reproach,
+says so tenderly to you, &quot;I
+am happy, but I have suffered by thee
+and for thy sake?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Tears dropped from Ammal&aacute;t's
+eyes; but remembering at length that
+he was not alone, he mastered himself,
+and lifted up his head to speak;
+but his voice refused to pour itself in
+words, and with difficulty he faltered
+out, &quot;We have not seen each other
+for a long time, Seltanetta!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And we were wellnigh parted
+for ever,&quot; murmured Seltanetta.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For ever!&quot; cried Ammal&aacute;t, with
+a half reproachful voice. &quot;And can
+you think, can you believe this? Is
+there not, then, another life, in which
+sorrow is unknown, and separation
+from our kinsmen and the beloved?
+If I were to lose the talisman of my
+life, with what scorn would I not cast
+away the rusty ponderous armour of
+existence! Why should I wrestle
+with destiny?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pity, then, that I did not die!&quot;
+answered Seltanetta, sportively. &quot;You
+describe so temptingly the other side
+of the grave, that one would be eager
+to leap into it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, no! Live, live long, for
+happiness, for&mdash;love!&quot; Ammal&aacute;t
+would have added, but he reddened,
+and was silent.</p>
+
+<p>Little by little the roses of health
+spread over the cheeks of the maiden,
+now happy in the presence of her
+lover. All returned into its customary
+order. The Khan was never
+weary of questioning Ammal&aacute;t about
+the battles, the campaigns, the tactics
+of the Russians; the Kh&aacute;nsha
+tired him with enquiries about the
+dress and customs of their women,
+and could not omit to call upon Allah
+as often as she heard that they go
+without veils. But with Seltanetta
+he enjoyed conversations and tales, to
+his, as well as her, heart's content.
+The merest trifle which had the slightest
+connexion with the other, could
+not be passed over without a minute
+description, without abundant repetitions
+and exclamations. Love, like
+Midas, transforms every thing it
+touches into gold, and, alas! often
+perishes, like Midas, for want of finding
+some material nourishment.</p>
+
+<p>But, as the strength of Seltanetta
+was gradually re-established, with the
+reappearing bloom of health on Ammal&aacute;t's
+brow, there often appeared
+the shadow of grief. Sometimes, in
+the middle of a lively conversation,
+he would suddenly stop, droop his
+head, and his bright eyes would be
+dimmed with a filling of tears; heavy
+sighs would seem to rend his breast;
+he would start up, his eyes sparkling
+with fury; he would grasp his dagger
+with a bitter smile, and then, as if
+vanquished by an invisible hand, he
+would fall into a deep reverie, from
+whence not even the caresses of his
+adored Seltanetta could recall him.</p>
+
+<p>Once, at such a moment, Seltanetta,
+leaning enraptured on his shoulder,
+whispered, &quot;Asis, (beloved,) you are
+sad&mdash;you are weary of me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, slander not him who loves
+thee more than heaven!&quot; replied
+Ammal&aacute;t; &quot;but I have felt the hell
+of separation; and can I think of it
+without agony? Easier, a hundred
+times easier, to part from life than
+from thee, my dark-eyed love!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are thinking of it, therefore
+you desire it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not poison my wounds by
+doubting, Seltanetta. Till now you
+have known only how to bloom like a
+rose&mdash;to flutter like a butterfly; till
+now your will was your only duty.
+But I am a man, a friend; fate has
+forged for me an indestructible chain&mdash;the
+chain of gratitude for kindness&mdash;it
+drags me to Derb&eacute;nd.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Debt! duty! gratitude!&quot; cried
+Seltanetta, mournfully shaking her
+head. &quot;How many gold-embroidered
+words have you invented to cover, as
+with a shawl, your unwillingness to
+remain here. What! Did you not
+give your heart to love before it was
+pledged to friendship? You had no
+right to give away what belonged to
+another. Oh, forget your Verkh&oacute;ffsky,
+forget your Russian friends and the
+beauty of Derb&eacute;nd. Forget war and
+murder-purchased glory. I hate blood
+since I saw you covered with it. I
+cannot think without shuddering, that
+each drop of it costs tears that cannot
+be dried, of a sister, a mother, or a
+fair bride. What do you need, in
+order to live peacefully and quietly
+among our mountains! Here none
+can come to disturb with arms the
+happiness of the heart. The rain
+pierces not our roof; our bread is not
+of purchased corn; my father has
+many horses, he has arms, and much
+precious gold; in my soul there is
+much love for you. Say, then, my
+beloved, you will not go away, you
+will remain with us!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, Seltanetta, I cannot, must
+not, remain here. To pass my life
+with you alone&mdash;for you to end it&mdash;this
+is my first prayer, my last desire,
+but its accomplishment depends on
+your father. A sacred tie binds me
+to the Russians; and while the Khan
+remains unreconciled with them, an
+open marriage with you would be
+impossible&mdash;the obstacle would not be
+the Russians, but the Khan&quot;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know my father,&quot; sorrowfully
+replied Seltanetta; &quot;for some
+time past his hatred of the infidels
+has so strengthened itself, that he
+hesitates not to sacrifice to it his
+daughter and his friend. He is particularly
+enraged with the Colonel for
+killing his favourite no&uacute;ker, who was
+sent for medicine to the Hak&iacute;m Ibrahim.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have more than once begun to
+speak to Akhmet Khan about my
+hopes; but his eternal reply has
+been&mdash;'Swear to be the enemy of the
+Russians, and then I will hear you
+out.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We must then bid adieu to hope.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why to hope, Seltanetta? Why
+not say only&mdash;farewell, Av&aacute;r!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Seltanetta bent upon him her expressive
+eyes. &quot;I don't understand
+you,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Love me more than any thing in
+the world&mdash;more than your father and
+mother, and your fair land, and then
+you will understand me, Seltanetta!
+Live without you I cannot, and they
+will not let me live with you. If you
+love me, let us fly!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fly! the Khan's daughter fly
+like a slave&mdash;a criminal! This is
+dreadful&mdash;this is terrible!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Speak not so. If the sacrifice is
+unusual, my love also is unusual.
+Command me to give my life a thousand
+times, and I will throw it down
+like a copper poull.<a name="footnotetag8" id="footnotetag8"></a><a href="#footnote8"><sup>8</sup></a> I will cast my
+soul into hell for you&mdash;not only my
+life. You remind me that you are
+the daughter of the Khan; remember,
+too, that my grandfather wore, that
+my uncle wears, the crown of a
+Shamkh&aacute;l! But it is not by this
+dignity, but by my heart, that I feel
+I am worthy of you; and if there be
+shame in being happy despite of the
+malice of mankind and the caprice of
+fate, that shame will fall on my head
+and not on yours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you forget my father's vengeance.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There will come a time when he
+himself will forget it. When he sees
+that the thing is done, he will cast
+aside his inflexibility; his heart is not
+stone; and even were it stone, tears
+of repentance will wear it away&mdash;our
+caresses will soften him. Happiness
+will cover us with her dove's wings,
+and we shall proudly say, 'We ourselves
+have caught her!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My beloved, I have lived not long
+upon earth, but something at my
+heart tells me that by falsehood we can
+never catch her. Let us wait: let us
+see what Allah will give! Perhaps,
+without this step, our union may be
+accomplished.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Seltanetta, Allah has given me
+this idea: it is his will. Have pity
+on me, I beseech you. Let us fly,
+unless you wish that our marriage-hour
+should strike above my grave!
+I have pledged my honour to return
+to Derb&eacute;nd; and I must keep that
+pledge, I must keep it soon: but to
+depart without the hope of seeing you,
+with the dread of hearing that you are
+the wife of another&mdash;this would be
+dreadful, this would be insupportable!
+If not from love, then from pity, share
+my destiny. Do not rob me of paradise!
+Do not drive me to madness!
+You know not whither disappointed
+passion can carry me. I may forget
+hospitality and kindred, tear asunder
+all human ties, trample under my feet
+all that is holy, mingle my blood with
+that of those who are dearest to me,
+force villany to shake with terror
+when my name is heard, and angels to
+weep to see my deeds!--Seltanetta,
+save me from the curse of others,
+from my own contempt&mdash;save me from
+myself! My no&uacute;kers are fearless&mdash;my
+horses like the wind; the night is
+dark, let us fly to benevolent Russia,
+till the storm be over. For the last
+time I implore you. Life and death,
+my renown and my soul, hang upon
+your word. Yes or no?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Torn now by her maiden fear, and
+her respect for the customs of her
+forefathers, now by the passion and
+eloquence of her lover, the innocent
+Seltanetta wavered, like a light cork,
+upon the tempestuous billows of contending
+emotions. At length she
+arose: with a proud and steady air
+she wiped away the tears which, glistened
+on her eyelashes, like the amber-gum
+on the thorns of the larch-tree,
+and said, &quot;Ammal&aacute;t! tempt me not!
+The flame of love will not dazzle, the
+smoke of love will not suffocate, my
+conscience. I shall ever know what
+is good and what is bad; and I well
+know how shameful it is, how base, to
+desert a father's house, to afflict loving
+and beloved parents! I know all this&mdash;and
+now, measure the price of my
+sacrifice. I fly with you&mdash;I am yours!
+It is not your tongue which has convinced&mdash;it
+is my own heart which has
+vanquished me! Allah has destined
+me to see and love you: let, then, our
+hearts be united for ever&mdash;and indissolubly,
+though their bond be a crown
+of thorns! Now all is over! Your
+destiny is mine!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>If heaven had clasped Ammal&aacute;t in
+its infinite wings, and pressed him to
+the heart of the universe&mdash;to the sun&mdash;even
+then his ecstacy would have
+been less strong than at this divine
+moment. He poured forth the most
+incoherent cries and exclamations of
+gratitude. When the first transports
+were over, the lovers arranged all the
+details of their flight. Seltanetta consented
+to lower herself by her bed-coverings
+from her chamber, to the
+steep bank of the Ouz&eacute;n. Ammal&aacute;t
+was to ride out in the evening with his
+no&uacute;kers from Khounz&aacute;kh, as if on a
+hawking party; he was to return to
+the Khan's house by circuitous roads
+at nightfall, and there receive his fair
+fellow-traveller in his arms. Then
+they were to take horses in silence,
+and then&mdash;let enemies keep out of
+their road!</p>
+
+<p>A kiss sealed the treaty; and the
+lovers separated with fear and hope in
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>Ammal&aacute;t Bek, having prepared his
+brave no&uacute;kers for battle or flight, looked
+impatiently at the sun, which seemed
+loth to descend from the warm sky
+to the chilly glaciers of the Caucasus.
+Like a bridegroom he pined for night,
+like an importunate guest he followed
+with his eyes the luminary of day.
+How slowly it moved&mdash;it crept to its
+setting! An interminable space seemed
+to intervene between hope and enjoyment.
+Unreasonable youth! What
+is your pledge of success? Who will
+assure you that your footsteps are not
+watched&mdash;your words not caught in
+their flight? Perhaps with the sun,
+which you upbraid, your hope will
+set.</p>
+
+<p>About the fourth hour after noon,
+the time of the Mozlem's dinner, the
+Sultan Akhmet Khan was unusually
+savage and gloomy. His eyes gleamed
+suspiciously from under his frowning
+brows; he fixed them for a long space,
+now on his daughter, now on his
+young guest. Sometimes his features
+assumed a mocking expression, but it
+again vanished in the blush of anger.
+His questions were biting, his conversation
+was interrupted; and all this
+awakened in the soul of Seltanetta
+repentance&mdash;in the heart of Ammal&aacute;t
+apprehension. On the other hand,
+the Kh&aacute;nsha, as if dreading a separation
+from her lovely daughter, was so
+affectionate and anxious, that this unmerited
+tenderness wrung tears from
+the gentle-hearted Seltanetta, and her
+glance, stealthily thrown at Ammal&aacute;t,
+was to him a piercing reproach.</p>
+
+<p>Hardly, after dinner, had they concluded
+the customary ceremony of
+washing the hands, when the Khan
+called Ammal&aacute;t into the spacious
+court-yard. There caparisoned horses
+awaited them, and a crowd of no&uacute;kers
+were already in the saddle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let us ride out to try the mettle
+of my new hawks,&quot; said the Khan to
+Ammal&aacute;t; &quot;the evening is fine, the
+heat is diminishing, and we shall yet
+have time, ere twilight, to shoot a few
+birds.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With his hawk on his fist, the
+Khan rode silently by the side of Ammal&aacute;t.
+An Avar&eacute;tz was climbing up
+to a steep cliff on the left, by means
+of a spiked pole, fixing it into the
+crevices, and then, supporting himself
+on a prong, he lifted himself higher.
+To his waist was attached a cap containing
+wheat; a long crossbow hung
+upon his shoulders. The Khan stopped,
+pointed him out to Ammal&aacute;t, and
+said meaningly, &quot;Look at yonder old
+man, Ammal&aacute;t Bek! He seeks, at
+the risk of his life, a foot of ground
+on the naked rock, to sow a handful
+of wheat. With the sweat of his brow
+he cultivates it, and often pays with
+his life for the defence of his herd
+from men and beasts. Poor is his
+native land; but why does he love
+this land? Ask him to change it for
+your fruitful fields, your rich flocks.
+He will say, 'Here I do what I
+please; here I bow to no one; these
+snows, these peaks of ice, defend my
+liberty.' And this freedom the Russians
+would take from him: of these
+Russians you have become the slave,
+Ammal&aacute;t.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Khan, you know that it is not
+Russian bravery, but Russian generosity,
+that has vanquished me. Their
+slave I am not, but their companion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A thousand times the worse, the
+more disgraceful for you. The heir
+of the Shamkh&aacute;l pines for a Russian
+epaulette, and glories in being the dependent
+of a colonel!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Moderate your words, Sultan
+Akhmet. To Verkh&oacute;ffsky I owe more
+than life: the tie of friendship unites
+us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can there exist a holy tie between
+us and the Giaour? To injure them,
+to destroy them, when possible, to
+deceive them when this cannot be
+done, is the commandment of the Kor&aacute;n,
+and the duty of every true believer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Khan! let us cease to play with
+the bones of Mahomet, and to menace
+others with what we do not believe.
+You are not a mo&oacute;lla, I am no fakir.
+I have my own notions of the duty of
+an honest man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Really, Ammal&aacute;t Bek? It were
+well, however, if you were to have
+this oftener in your heart than on
+your tongue. For the last time, allow
+me to ask you, will you hearken to the
+counsels of a friend whom you quitted
+for the Giaour? Will you remain
+with us for good?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My life I would lay down for the
+happiness you so generously offer;
+but I have given my promise to return,
+and I will keep it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is this decided?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Irrevocably so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well then, the sooner the better.
+I have learned to know you. <i>Me</i> you
+know of old. Insincerity and flattery
+between us are in vain. I will not
+conceal from you, that I always wished
+to see you my son-in-law. I rejoiced
+that Seltanetta had pleased you;
+your captivity put off my plans for a
+time. Your long absence&mdash;the rumours
+of your conversion&mdash;grieved
+me. At length you appeared among
+us, and found every thing as before;
+but you did not bring to us your former
+heart. I hoped you would fall
+back into your former course; I was
+painfully mistaken. It is a pity; but
+there is nothing to be done. I do not
+wish to have for my son-in-law a servant
+of the Russians.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Akhmet Khan, I once&quot;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let me finish. Your agitated
+arrival, your ravings at the door of
+the sick Seltanetta, betrayed to every
+body your attachment, and our mutual
+intentions. Through all the mountains,
+you have been talked of as the
+affianced bridegroom of my daughter:
+but now the tie is broken, it is time to
+destroy the rumours; for the honour
+of my family&mdash;for the tranquillity of
+my daughter&mdash;you must leave us&mdash;and
+immediately. This is absolutely
+necessary and indispensable. Ammal&aacute;t,
+we part friends, but here we
+will meet only as kinsmen, not otherwise.
+May Allah turn your heart,
+and restore you to us as an inseparable
+friend. Till then, farewell!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With these words the Khan turned
+his horse, and rode away at full gallop
+to his retinue. If on the stupefied
+Ammal&aacute;t the thunderbolt of heaven
+had fallen, he could not have been
+more astounded than by this unexpected
+explanation. Already had the
+dust raised by the horse's hoofs of the
+retiring Khan been laid at rest; but he
+still stood immovable on the hill now
+darkening in the shadow of sunset.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;">
+<h3>CHAPTER IX.</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Colonel Verkh&oacute;ffsky, engaged in
+reducing to submission the rebellious
+Daghest&aacute;netzes, was encamped with
+his regiment at the village of Ki&aacute;fir-Ka&uacute;mik.
+The tent of Ammal&aacute;t Bek
+was erected next to his own, and in
+it Saphir-Ali, lazily stretched on the
+carpet, was drinking the wine of the
+Don, notwithstanding the prohibition
+of the Prophet. Ammal&aacute;t Bek, thin,
+pale, and pensive, was resting his head
+against the tent-pole, smoking a pipe.
+Three months had passed since the
+time when he was banished from his
+paradise; and he was now roving with
+a detachment, within sight of the
+mountains to which his heart flew,
+but whither his foot durst not step.
+Grief had worn out his strength;
+vexation had poured its vial on his
+once serene character. He had
+dragged a sacrifice to his attachment
+to the Russians, and it seemed
+as if he reproached every Russian
+with it. Discontent was visible in
+every word, in every glance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A fine thing wine!&quot; said Saphir
+Ali, carefully wiping the glasses;
+&quot;surely Mahomet must have met with
+sour dregs in Arav&eacute;te, when he forbade
+the juice of the grape to true
+believers! Why, really these drops
+are as sweet as if the angels themselves,
+in their joy, had wept their
+tears into bottles. Ho! quaff another
+glass, Ammal&aacute;t; your heart will float
+on the wine more lightly than a bubble.
+Do you know what Hafiz has sung
+about it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And do you know? Pray, do not
+annoy me with your prate, Saphir Ali:
+not even under the name of Sadi and
+Hafiz.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, what harm is there? If
+even this prate is my own, it is not an
+earring: it will not remain hanging
+in your ear. When you begin your
+story about your goddess Seltanetta,
+I look at you as at the juggler, who
+eats fire, and winds endless ribbons
+from his cheeks. Love makes you
+talk nonsense, and the Donskoi (wine
+of the Don) makes me do the same.
+So we are quits. Now, then, to the
+health of the Russians!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What has made you like the Russians?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say rather&mdash;why have you ceased
+to love them?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because I have examined them
+nearer. Really they are no better
+than our Tartars. They are just as
+eager for profit, just as ready to blame
+others, and not with a view of improving
+their fellow-creatures, but to excuse
+themselves: and as to their laziness&mdash;don't
+let us speak of it. They
+have ruled here for a long time, and
+what good have they done; what firm
+laws have they established; what useful
+customs have they introduced; what
+have they taught us; what have they
+created here, or what have they constructed
+worthy of notice? Verkh&oacute;ffsky
+has opened my eyes to the faults of my
+countrymen, but at the same time to
+the defects of the Russians, to whom
+it is more unpardonable; because
+they know what is right, have grown
+up among good examples, and here,
+as if they have forgotten their mission,
+and their active nature, they sink, little
+by little, into the insignificance of
+the beasts.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope you do not include Verkh&oacute;ffsky
+in this number.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not he alone, but some others,
+deserve to be placed in a separate circle.
+But then, are there many such?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Even the angels in heaven are
+numbered, Ammal&aacute;t Bek: and Verkh&oacute;ffsky
+absolutely is a man for whose
+justice and kindness we ought to thank
+heaven. Is there a single Tartar who
+can speak ill of him? Is there a soldier
+who would not give his soul for
+him? Abdul-Hamet, more wine!
+Now then, to the health of Verkh&oacute;ffsky!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Spare me! I will not drink to
+Mahomet himself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If your heart is not as black as
+the eyes of Seltanetta, you will drink,
+even were it in the presence of the
+red-bearded Yakho&uacute;nts of the Shakh&eacute;eds<a name="footnotetag9" id="footnotetag9"></a><a href="#footnote9"><sup>9</sup></a>
+of Derb&eacute;nt: even if all the
+Im&aacute;ms and Shieks not only licked their
+lips but bit their nails out of spite to
+you for such a sacrilege.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will not drink, I tell you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hark ye, Ammal&aacute;t: I am ready
+to let the devil get drunk on my
+blood for your sake, and you won't
+drink a glass of wine for mine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is to say, that I will not
+drink because I do not wish&mdash;and I
+don't wish, because even without wine
+my blood boils in me like fermenting
+booz&aacute;.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A bad excuse! It is not the first
+time that we have drunk, nor the first
+time that our blood boils. Speak
+plainly at once: you are angry with
+the Colonel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very angry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;May I know for what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For much. For some time past
+he has begun to drop poison into the
+honey of his friendship: and at last
+these drops have filled and overflowed
+the cup. I cannot bear such lukewarm
+friends! He is liberal with his
+advice, not sparing with his lectures;
+that is, in every thing that costs him
+neither risk nor trouble.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I understand, I understand! I
+suppose he would not let you go to
+Av&aacute;r!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you bore my heart in your bosom
+you would understand how I felt
+when I received such a refusal. He
+lured me on with that hope, and then
+all at once repulsed my most earnest
+prayer&mdash;dashed into dust, like a crystal
+kali&aacute;n, my fondest hopes....
+Akhmet Khan was surely softened,
+when he sent word that he wished to
+see me; and I cannot fly to him, or
+hurry to Seltanetta.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Put yourself, brother, in his place,
+and then say whether you yourself
+would not have acted in the same way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, not so! I should have said
+plainly from the very beginning,
+'Ammal&aacute;t, do not expect any help
+from me.' I even now ask him not
+for help. I only beg him not to hinder
+me. Yet no! He, hiding from me
+the sun of all my joy, assures me that
+he does this from interest in me&mdash;that
+this will hereafter bring me fortune.
+Is not this a fine anodyne?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, my friend! If this is really
+the case, the sleeping-draught is given
+to you as to a person on whom they
+wish to perform an operation. You
+are thinking only of your love, and
+Verkh&oacute;ffsky has to keep your honour
+and his own without spot; and you
+are both surrounded by ill-wishers.
+Believe me, either thus or otherwise,
+it is he alone who can cure you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who asks him to cure me? This
+divine malady of love is my only joy:
+and to deprive me of it is to tear out
+my heart, because it cannot beat at
+the sound of a drum!&quot;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>At this moment a strange Tartar
+entered the tent, looked suspiciously
+round, and bending down his head,
+laid his slippers before Ammal&aacute;t&mdash;according
+to Asiatic custom, this signified
+that he requested a private conversation.
+Ammal&aacute;t understood him,
+made a sign with his head, and both
+went out into the open air. The night
+was dark, the fires were going out,
+and the chain of sentinels extended
+far before them. &quot;Here we are alone,&quot;
+said Ammal&aacute;t Bek to the Tartar:
+&quot;who art thou, and what dost thou
+want?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My name is Samit: I am an inhabitant
+of Derb&eacute;nd, of the sect of
+Souni: and now am at present serving
+in the detachment of Mussulman
+cavalry. My commission is of greater
+consequence to you than to me....
+<i>The eagle loves the mountains</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Ammal&aacute;t shuddered, and looked
+suspiciously at the messenger. This
+was a watchword, the key of which
+Sultan Akhmet had previously written
+to him. &quot;How can he but love the
+mountains?&quot; ... he replied; &quot;In
+the mountains there are many lambs
+for the eagles, and <i>much silver for
+men</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>And much steel for the valiant</i>,&quot; (yigheeds.)</p>
+
+<p>Ammal&aacute;t grasped the messenger
+by the hand. &quot;How is Sultan Akhmet
+Khan?&quot; he enquired hurriedly:
+&quot;What news bring you from him&mdash;how
+long is it since you have seen his
+family?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not to answer, but to question,
+am I come.... Will you follow me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where? for what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know who has sent me.
+That is enough. If you trust not
+him, trust not me. Therein is your
+will and my advantage. Instead of
+running my head into a noose to-night,
+I can return to-morrow to the
+Khan, and tell him that Ammal&aacute;t
+dares not leave the camp.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Tartar gained his point: the
+touchy Ammal&aacute;t took fire. &quot;Saphir
+Ali!&quot; he cried loudly.</p>
+
+<p>Saphir Ali started up, and ran out of
+the tent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Order horses to be brought for
+yourself and me, even if unsaddled;
+and at the same time send word to
+the Colonel, that I have ridden out to
+examine the field behind the line, to
+see if some rascal is not stealing in
+between the sentries. My gun and
+shashka in a twinkling!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The horses were led up, the Tartar
+leaped on his own, which was tied up
+not far off, and all three rode off to
+the chain. They gave the word and
+the countersign, and they passed by
+the videttes to the left, along the
+bank of the swift Azen.</p>
+
+<p>Saphir Ali, who had very unwillingly
+left his bottle, grumbled about
+the darkness, the underwood, the
+ditches, and rode swearing by Ammal&aacute;t's
+side; but seeing that nobody
+began the conversation, he resolved
+to commence it himself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My ashes fall on the head of this
+guide! The devil knows where he is
+leading us, and where he will take us.
+Perhaps he is going to sell us to the
+Lezgh&iacute;ns for a rich ransom. I never
+trust these squinting fellows!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I trust but little even to those
+who have straight eyes,&quot; answered
+Ammal&aacute;t; &quot;but this squinting fellow
+is sent from a friend: he will not betray
+us!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And the very first moment he
+thinks of any thing like it, at his first
+movement I will slice him through
+like a melon. Ho! friend,&quot; cried
+Saphir Ali, to the guide; &quot;in the
+name of the king of the genii, it
+seems you have made a compact with
+the thorns to tear the embroidery from
+my tschoukh&aacute;. Could you not find
+a wider road? I am really neither a
+pheasant nor a fox.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The guide stopped. &quot;To say the
+truth, I have led a delicate fellow like
+you too far!&quot; he answered. &quot;Stay
+here and take care of the horses,
+whilst Ammal&aacute;t and I will go where
+it is necessary.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is it possible you will go into the
+woods with such a cut-throat looking
+rascal, without me?&quot; whispered Saphir
+Ali to Ammal&aacute;t.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is, you are afraid to remain
+here <i>without me</i>!&quot; replied Ammal&aacute;t,
+dismounting from his horse, and giving
+him the reins: &quot;Do not annoy
+yourself, my dear fellow. I leave
+you in the agreeable society of wolves
+and jackals. Hark how they are singing!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pray to God that I may not have
+to deliver your bones from these singers,&quot;
+said Saphir Ali. They separated.
+Samit led Ammal&aacute;t among the
+bushes, over the river, and having
+passed about half a verst among stones,
+began to descend. At the risk of
+their necks they clambered along
+the rocks, clinging by the roots of
+the sweet-briar, and at length, after
+a difficult journey, descended into the
+narrow mouth of a small cavern parallel
+with the water. It had been excavated
+by the washing of the stream,
+erewhile rapid, but now dried up.
+Long stalactites of lime and crystal
+glittered in the light of a fire piled in
+the middle. In the back-ground lay
+Sultan Akhmet Khan on a bo&uacute;rka,
+and seemed to be waiting patiently
+till Ammal&aacute;t should recover himself
+amid the thick smoke which rolled in
+masses through the cave. A cocked
+gun lay across his knees; the tuft in
+his cap fluttered in the wind which
+blew from the crevices. He rose politely
+as Ammal&aacute;t hurried to salute
+him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am glad to see you,&quot; he said,
+pressing the hands of his guest; &quot;and
+I do not hide the feeling which I
+ought not to cherish. However, it is
+not for an empty interview that I have
+put my foot into the trap, and troubled
+you: sit down, Ammal&aacute;t, and let us
+speak about an important affair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To me, Sultan Akhmet Khan?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To us both. With your father
+I have eaten bread and salt. There
+was a time when I counted you likewise
+as my friend.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But counted!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No! you were my friend, and
+would ever have remained so, if the
+deceiver, Verkh&oacute;ffsky, had not stepped
+between us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Khan, you know him not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not only I, but you yourself
+shall soon know him. But let us
+begin with what regards Seltanetta.
+You know she cannot ever remain
+unmarried. This would be a disgrace
+to my house: and let me tell you candidly,
+that she has already been demanded
+in marriage.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Ammal&aacute;t's heart seemed torn asunder.
+For some time he could not
+recover himself. At length he tremblingly
+asked, &quot;Who is this bold
+lover?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The second son of the Shamkh&aacute;l,
+Abdoul Mo&uacute;sselin. Next after you,
+he has, from his high blood, the best
+right, of all our mountaineers, to Seltanetta's
+hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Next to me&mdash;after me!&quot; exclaimed
+the passionate Bek, boiling with
+anger: &quot;Am I, then, buried? Is
+then my memory vanished among my
+friends?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Neither the memory, nor friendship
+itself is dead in my heart; but be
+just, Ammal&aacute;t; as just as I am frank.
+Forget that you are the judge of your
+own cause, and decide what we are
+to do. You will not abandon the
+Russians, and I cannot make peace
+with them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do but wish&mdash;do but speak the
+word, and all will be forgotten, all
+will be forgiven you. This I will
+answer for with my head, and with
+the honour of Verkh&oacute;ffsky, who has
+more than once promised me his mediation.
+For your own good, for the
+welfare of Av&aacute;r, for your daughter's
+happiness, for my bliss, I implore
+you, yield to peace, and all will be
+forgotten&mdash;all that once belonged to
+you will be restored.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How boldly you answer, rash
+youth, for another's pardon, for another's
+life! Are you sure of your
+own life, your own liberty?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who should desire my poor life?
+To whom should be dear the liberty
+which I do not prize myself?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To whom? Think you that the
+pillow does not move under the Shamkh&aacute;l's
+head, when the thought rises
+in his brain, that you, the true heir
+of the Shamkhal&aacute;t of Tarki, are
+in favour with the Russian Government?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I never reckoned on its friendship,
+nor feared its enmity.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fear it not, but do not despise it.
+Do you know that an express, sent
+from Tarki to Yerm&oacute;loff, arrived a
+moment too late, to request him to
+show no mercy, but to execute you as
+a traitor? The Shamkh&aacute;l was before
+ready to betray you with a kiss, if he
+could; but now, that you have sent
+back his blind daughter to him, he no
+longer conceals his hate.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who will dare to touch me, under
+Verkh&oacute;ffsky's protection?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hark ye, Ammal&aacute;t; I will tell
+you a fable:&mdash;A sheep went into a
+kitchen to escape the wolves, and rejoiced
+in his luck, flattered by the
+caresses of the cooks. At the end of
+three days he was in the pot. Ammal&aacute;t,
+this is your story. 'Tis time
+to open your eyes. The man whom
+you considered your first friend has
+been the first to betray you. You are
+surrounded, entangled by treachery.
+My chief motive in meeting you was
+my desire to warn you. When Seltanetta
+was asked in marriage, I was
+given to understand from the Shamkh&aacute;l,
+that through him I could more
+readily make my peace with the Russians,
+than through the powerless
+Ammal&aacute;t&mdash;that you would soon be
+removed in some way or other, and
+that there was nothing to be feared
+from your rivalry. I suspected still
+more, and learned more than I suspected.
+To-day I stopped the Shamkh&aacute;l's
+no&uacute;ker, to whom the negotiations
+with Verkh&oacute;ffsky were entrusted,
+and extracted from him, by torture,
+that the Shamkh&aacute;l offers a thousand
+ducats to get rid of you. Verkh&oacute;ffsky
+hesitates, and wishes only to send you
+to Siberia for ever. The affair is not
+yet decided; but to-morrow the detachment
+retires to their quarters, and
+they have resolved to meet at your
+house in Bouin&aacute;ki, to bargain about
+your blood. They will forge denunciations
+and charges&mdash;they will poison
+you at your own table, and cover you
+with chains of iron, promising you
+mountains of gold.&quot; It was painful
+to see Ammal&aacute;t during this dreadful
+speech. Every word, like red-hot
+iron, plunged into his heart; all within
+him that was noble, grand, or consoling,
+took fire at once, and turned into
+ashes. Every thing in which he had
+so long and so trustingly confided,
+fell to pieces, and shrivelled up in the
+flame of indignation. Several times
+he tried to speak, but the words died
+away in a sickly gasp; and at last
+the wild beast which Verkh&oacute;ffsky had
+tamed, which Ammal&aacute;t had lulled to
+sleep, burst from his chain: a flood of
+curses and menaces poured from the lips
+of the furious Bek. &quot;Revenge, revenge!&quot;
+he cried, &quot;merciless revenge,
+and woe to the hypocrites!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is the first word worthy of you,&quot;
+said the Khan, concealing the joy of
+success; &quot;long enough have you crept
+like a serpent, laying your head under
+the feet of the Russians! 'Tis time to
+soar like an eagle to the clouds; to
+look down from on high upon the
+enemy who cannot reach you with
+their arrows. Repay treachery with
+treachery, death with death!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then death and ruin be to the
+Shamkh&aacute;l, the robber of my liberty;
+and ruin be to Abdoul Mo&uacute;sselin, who
+dared to stretch forth his hand to my
+treasure!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Shamkh&aacute;l? His son&mdash;his
+family? Are they worthy of your
+first exploits? They are all but little
+loved by the Tarkov&eacute;tzes; and if we
+attack the Shamkh&aacute;l, they will give
+up his whole family with their own
+hands. No, Ammal&aacute;t, you must aim
+your first blow next to you; you must
+destroy your chief enemy; you must
+kill Verkh&oacute;ffsky.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Verkh&oacute;ffsky!&quot; exclaimed Ammal&aacute;t,
+stepping back.... &quot;Yes!.... he
+is my enemy; but he was my
+friend. He saved me from a shameful
+death.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And has now sold you to a shameful
+life!.... A noble friend! And
+then you have yourself saved him from
+the tusks of the wild-boar&mdash;a death
+worthy of a swine-eater! The first
+debt is paid, the second remains due:
+for the destiny which he is so deceitfully
+preparing for you&quot;....</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I feel ... this ought to be ... but
+what will good men say? What
+will my conscience say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is for a man to tremble before
+old women's tales, and before a
+whimpering child&mdash;conscience&mdash;when
+honour and revenge are at stake? I
+see Ammal&aacute;t, that without me you
+will decide nothing; you will not
+even decide to marry Seltanetta. Listen
+to me. Would you be a son-in-law
+worthy of me, the first condition
+is Verkh&oacute;ffsky's death. His head shall
+be a marriage-gift for your bride,
+whom you love, and who loves you.
+Not revenge only, but the plainest
+reasoning requires the death of the
+Colonel. Without him, all Daghest&aacute;n
+will remain several days without
+a chief, and stupefied with horror. In
+this interval, we come flying upon the
+Russians who are dispersed in their
+quarters. I mount with twenty thousand
+Avar&eacute;tzes and Akoush&eacute;tzes: and
+we fall from the mountains like a cloud
+of snow upon Tarki. Then Ammal&aacute;t,
+Shamkh&aacute;l of Daghest&aacute;n, will embrace
+me as his friend, as his father-in-law.
+These are my plans, this is
+your destiny. Choose which you
+please; either an eternal banishment,
+or a daring blow, which promises you
+power and happiness; but know, that
+next time we shall meet either as kinsmen,
+or as irreconcilable foes!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Khan disappeared. Long stood
+Ammal&aacute;t, agitated, devoured by new
+and terrible feelings. At length Samit
+reminded him that it was time to
+return to the camp. Ignorant himself
+how and where he had found his way
+to the shore, he followed his mysterious
+guide, found his horse, and without
+answering a word to the thousand
+questions of Saphir Ali, rode up to his
+tent. There, all the tortures of the
+soul's hell awaited him. Heavy is the
+first night of sorrow, but still more
+terrible the first bloody thoughts of
+crime.</p>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+
+<a name="bw329s3" id="bw329s3"></a><h2>REYNOLDS'S DISCOURSES. CONCLUSION.</h2>
+
+<p>We omit any notice of the other
+written works of Sir Joshua&mdash;his
+&quot;Journey to Flanders and Holland,&quot;
+his Notes to Mason's verse translation
+of Du Fresnoy's Latin poem, &quot;Art
+of Painting,&quot; and his contributions to
+the &quot;Idler.&quot; The former is chiefly a
+notice of pictures, and of value to
+those who may visit the galleries
+where most of them may be found;
+and in some degree his remarks will
+attach a value to those dispersed; the
+best part of the &quot;Journey,&quot; perhaps,
+is his critical discrimination of the
+style and genius of Rubens. The
+marrow of his Notes to Du Fresnoy's
+poem, and indeed of his papers
+in the &quot;Idler,&quot; has been transferred
+to his Discourses, which, as
+they terminate his literary labours,
+contain all that he considered important
+in a discussion on taste and art.
+The notes to Du Fresnoy may, however,
+be consulted by the practical
+painter with advantage, as here and
+there some technical directions may
+be found, which, if of doubtful utility
+in practice, will at least demand
+thought and reasoning upon this not
+unimportant part of the art. To
+doubt is to reflect; judgment results,
+and from this, as a sure source, genius
+creates. There are likewise some
+memoranda useful to artists to be read
+in Northcote's &quot;Life.&quot; The influence
+of these Discourses upon art in this
+country has been much less than
+might have been expected from so
+able an exposition of its principles.
+They breathe throughout an admiration
+of what is great, give a high aim
+to the student, and point to the path
+he should pursue to attain it: while
+it must be acknowledged our artists
+as a body have wandered in another
+direction. The Discourses speak to
+cultivated minds only. They will
+scarcely be available to those who
+have habituated their minds to lower
+views of art, and have, by a fascinating
+practice, acquired an inordinate
+love for its minor beauties. It is true
+their tendency is to teach, to <i>cultivate</i>:
+but in art there is too often as much
+to unlearn as to learn, and the <i>unlearning</i>
+is the more irksome task;
+prejudice, self-gratulation, have removed
+the humility which is the first
+step in the ladder of advancement.
+With the public at large, the Discourses
+have done more; and rather
+by the reflection from that improvement
+in the public taste, than from
+any direct appeal to artists, our exhibitions
+have gained somewhat in refinement.
+And if there is, perhaps,
+less vigour now, than in the time of
+Sir Joshua, Wilson, and Gainsborough,
+those fathers of the English School,
+we are less seldom disgusted with the
+coarseness, both of subject and manner,
+that prevailed in some of their
+contemporaries and immediate successors.
+In no branch of art is this improvement
+more shown than in scenes
+of familiar life&mdash;which meant, indeed
+&quot;Low Life.&quot; Vulgarity has given
+place to a more &quot;elegant familiar.&quot;
+This has necessarily brought into play
+a nicer attention to mechanical excellence,
+and indeed to all the minor
+beauties of the art. We almost fear
+too much has been done this way, because
+it has been too exclusively pursued,
+and led astray the public taste
+to rest satisfied with, and unadvisedly
+to require, the less important perfections.
+From that great style which
+it may be said it was the sole object
+of the Discourses to recommend, we
+are further off than ever. Even in
+portrait, there is far less of the historical,
+than Sir Joshua himself introduced
+into that department&mdash;an adoption
+which he has so ably defended by
+his arguments. But nothing can be
+more unlike the true historical, as defined
+in the precepts of art, than the
+modern representation of national (in
+that sense, historical) events. The
+precepts of the President have been
+unread or disregarded by the patronized
+historical painters of our day.
+It would seem to be thought a greater
+achievement to identify on canvass the
+millinery that is worn, than the characters
+of the wearers, silk stockings,
+and satins, and faces, are all of the
+same common aim of similitude; arrangement,
+attitude, and peculiarly
+inanimate expression, display of finery,
+with the actual robes, as generally
+announced in the advertisement, render
+such pictures counterparts, or
+perhaps inferior counterfeits to Mrs
+Jarley's wax-work. And, like the wax-work,
+they are paraded from town to
+town, to show the people how much
+the tailor and mantua-maker have to
+do in state affairs; and that the greatest
+of empires is governed by very
+ordinary-looking personages. Even
+the Venetian painters, called by way
+of distinction the &quot;Ornamental
+School,&quot; deemed it necessary to avoid
+prettinesses and pettinesses, and by
+consummate skill in artistical arrangement
+in composition, in chiaro-scuro
+and colour, to give a certain greatness
+to the representations of their national
+events. There is not, whatever
+other faults they may have, this
+of poverty, in the public pictures of
+Venice; they are at least of a magnificent
+ambition: they are far removed
+from the littleness of a show.
+We are utterly gone out of the way
+of the first principles of art in our
+national historical pictures. Yet was
+the great historical the whole subject
+of the Discourses&mdash;it was to be the
+only worthy aim of the student. If
+the advice and precepts of Sir Joshua
+Reynolds have, then, been so entirely
+disregarded, it may be asked what
+benefit he has conferred upon the
+world by his Discourses. We answer,
+great. He has shown what
+should be the aim of art, and has
+therefore raised it in the estimation
+of the cultivated. His works are
+part of our standard literature; they
+are in the hands of readers, of scholars;
+they materially help in the formation
+of a taste by which literature
+is to be judged and relished. Even
+those who never acquire any very
+competent knowledge of, or love for
+pictures, do acquire a respect for art,
+connect it with classical poetry&mdash;the
+highest poetry, with Homer, with the
+Greek drama, with all they have read
+of the venerated works of Phidias,
+Praxiteles, and Apelles; and having
+no too nice discrimination, are credulous
+of, or anticipate by remembering
+what has been done and valued&mdash;the
+honour of the profession. We assert
+that, by bringing the precepts of art
+within the pale of our accepted literature,
+Sir Joshua Reynolds has given
+to art a better position. Would that
+there were no counteracting circumstances
+which still keep it from reaching
+its proper rank! Some there are,
+which materially degrade it, amongst
+which is the attempt to force patronage;
+the whole system of Art Unions,
+and of Schools of Design, the &quot;in form&acirc;
+pauperis&quot; petitioning and advertising,
+and the rearing innumerable artists,
+ill-educated in all but drawing, and
+mere degrading still, the binding art,
+as it were, apprenticed to manufacture
+in such Schools of Design; connecting,
+in more than idea, the drawer of
+patterns with the painter of pictures.
+Hence has arisen, and must necessarily
+arise, an inundation of mediocrity,
+the aim of the painter being to reach
+some low-prize mark, an unnatural
+competition, inferior minds brought
+into the profession, a sort of painting-made-easy
+school, and pictures, like
+other articles of manufacture, cheap
+and bad. We should say decidedly,
+that the best consideration for art, and
+the best patronage too, that we would
+give to it, would be to establish it in
+our universities of Cambridge and
+Oxford. In those venerated places to
+found professorships, that a more sure
+love and more sure taste for it may be
+imbedded with every other good and
+classical love and taste in the early
+minds of the youth of England's pride,
+of future patrons; and where painters
+themselves may graduate, and associate
+with all noble and cultivated minds,
+and be as much honoured in their profession
+as any in those usually called
+&quot;learned.&quot; But to return to Sir Joshua.
+He conferred upon his profession not
+more benefit by his writings and paintings,
+than by his manners and conduct.
+To say that they were irreproachable
+would be to say little&mdash;they were such
+as to render him an object of love and
+respect. He adorned a society at that
+time remarkable for men of wit and
+wisdom. He knew that refinement
+was necessary for his profession, and
+he studiously cultivated it&mdash;so studiously,
+that he brought a portion of his
+own into that society from which he
+had gathered much. He abhorred
+what was low in thought, in manners,
+and in art. And thus he tutored his
+genius, which was great rather from
+the cultivation of his judgment, by
+incessantly exercising his good sense
+upon the task before him, than from
+any innate very vigorous power. He
+thought prudence the best guide of
+life, and his mind was not of an eccentric
+daring, to rush heedlessly beyond
+the bounds of discretion. And
+this was no small proof of his good
+sense; when the prejudice of the age
+in which he lived was prone to consider
+eccentricity as a mark of genius; and
+genius itself, inconsistently with the
+very term of a silly admiration, an
+<i>inspiration</i>, that necessarily brought
+with it carelessness and profligacy.
+By his polished manners, his manly
+virtues, and his prudential views,
+which mainly formed his taste, and
+enabled him to disseminate taste, Sir
+Joshua rescued art from this degrading
+prejudice, which, while it flattered
+vanity and excused vice, made the objects
+of the flattery contemptible and
+inexcusable. If genius be a gift, it
+is one that passes through the mind,
+and takes its colour; the love of all
+that is pure, and good, and great, can
+alone invest genius with that habit of
+thought which, applied to practice,
+makes the perfect painter. Castiglione
+considered painting the proper acquirement
+of the perfect gentleman&mdash;Sir
+Joshua Reynolds thought that to be in
+mind and manners the &quot;gentlemen,&quot;
+was as necessary to perfect the painter.
+The friend of Johnson and Burke,
+and of all persons of that brilliant
+age, distinguished by abilities and
+worth, was no common man. In
+raising himself, he was ever mindful
+to raise the art to which he had
+devoted himself, in general estimation.</p>
+
+<p>We have noticed a charge against
+the writer of the Discourses, that
+he did not pursue that great style
+which he so earnestly recommended.
+Besides that this is not quite true&mdash;for
+he unquestionably did adopt so much
+of the great manner as his subjects
+would, generally speaking, allow&mdash;there
+was a sufficient reason for the
+tone he adopted, that it was one useful
+and honourable, and none can deny
+that it was suited to his genius. He
+was doubtless conscious of his own
+peculiar powers, and contemplated the
+degree of excellence which he attained.
+He felt that he could advance
+that department of his profession, and
+surely no unpardonable prudential
+views led him to the adoption of it. It
+was the one, perhaps, best suited to his
+abilities; and there is nothing in his
+works which might lead us to suspect
+that he would have succeeded so well
+in any other. The characteristic of
+his mind was a nice observation.
+It was not in its native strength
+creative. We doubt if Sir Joshua
+Reynolds ever attempted a perfectly
+original creation&mdash;if he ever designed
+without having some imitation in
+view. We mean not to say, that in
+the process he did not take slight
+advantages of accidents, and, if the
+expression may be used, by a second
+sort of creation, make his work in the
+end perfectly his own. But we should
+suppose that his first conceptions for
+his pictures, (of course, we speak
+principally of those not strictly portraits,)
+came to him through his admiration
+of some of the great originals,
+which he had so deeply studied.
+In almost every work by his hand,
+there is strongly marked his good
+sense&mdash;almost a prudent forbearance.
+He ever seemed too cautious not to
+dare beyond his tried strength, more
+especially in designing a subject of
+several figures. His true genius as
+alone conspicuous in those where
+much of the portrait was admissible;
+and such was his &quot;Tragic Muse,&quot; a
+strictly historical picture: was it
+equally discernible in his &quot;Nativity&quot;
+for the window in New College Chapel?
+We think not. There is nothing
+in his &quot;Nativity&quot; that has not
+been better done by others; yet, as a
+whole, it is good; and if the subject
+demands a more creative power, and
+a higher daring than was habitual to
+him, we are yet charmed with the
+good sense throughout; and while we
+look, are indisposed to criticise. We
+have already remarked how much Sir
+Joshua was indebted to a picture by
+Domenichino for the &quot;Tragic Muse.&quot;
+Every one knows that he borrowed
+the &quot;Nativity&quot; from the &quot;Notte&quot; of
+Correggio, and perhaps in detail from
+other and inferior masters. His
+&quot;Ugolino&quot; was a portrait, or a study,
+in the commencement; it owes its
+excellence to its retaining this character
+in its completion. If we were to point
+to failures, in single figures, (historical,)
+we should mention his &quot;Puck&quot;
+and his &quot;Infant Hercules.&quot; The
+latter we only know from the print.
+Here he certainly had an opportunity
+of displaying the great style of Michael
+Angelo; it was beyond his
+daring; the Hercules is a sturdy
+child, and that is all, we see not the
+<i>ex pede Herculem</i>. We can imagine
+the colouring, especially of the serpents
+and back-ground, to have been
+impressive. The picture is in the
+possession of the Emperor of Russia.
+The &quot;Puck&quot; is a somewhat mischievous
+boy&mdash;too substantially, perhaps
+heavily, given for the fanciful
+creation. The mushroom on which
+he is perched is unfortunate in shape
+and colour; it is too near the semblance
+of a bullock's heart. His
+&quot;Cardinal Beaufort,&quot; powerful in
+expression, has been, we think, captiously
+reprehended for the introduction
+of the demon. The mind's eye
+has the privilege of poetry to imagine
+the presence; the personation is therefore
+legitimate to the sister art. The
+National Gallery is not fortunate
+enough to possess any important picture
+of the master in the historical style.
+The portraits there are good.
+There was, we have been given to
+understand, an opportunity of purchasing
+for the National Gallery the
+portrait of himself, which Sir Joshua
+presented to his native town of Plympton
+as his substitute, having been
+elected mayor of the town&mdash;an honour
+that was according to the expectation
+of the electors thus repaid. The
+Municipal Reform brought into office
+in the town of Plympton, as elsewhere,
+a set of men who neither valued art
+nor the fame of their eminent townsman.
+Men who would convert the
+very mace of office into cash, could
+not be expected to keep a portrait;
+so it was sold by auction, and for a mere
+trifle. It was offered to the
+nation; and by those whose business
+it was to cater for the nation, pronounced
+a copy. The history of its
+sale did not accompany the picture;
+when that was known, as it is said,
+a very large sum was offered, and refused.
+It is but justice to the committee
+to remind them of the fact,
+that Sir Joshua himself, as he tells us,
+very minutely examined a picture
+which he pronounced to be his own,
+and which was nevertheless a copy.
+Unquestionably his genius was for
+portrait; it suited his strictly observant
+character; and he had this great
+requisite for a portrait-painter, having
+great sense himself, he was able to
+make his heads intellectual. His
+female portraits are extremely lovely;
+he knew well how to represent intellect,
+enthusiasm, and feeling. These
+qualities he possessed himself. We
+have observed, in the commencement
+of these remarks upon the Discourses,
+that painters do not usually paint
+beyond themselves, either power or
+feeling&mdash;beyond their own grasp and
+sentiments; it was the habitual good
+sense and refinement of moral feeling
+that made Sir Joshua Reynolds so
+admirable a portrait-painter. He has
+been, and we doubt not justly, celebrated
+as a colourist. Unfortunately,
+we are not now so capable of judging,
+excepting in a few instances, of this his
+excellence. Some few years ago, his
+pictures, to a considerable amount in
+number, were exhibited at the British
+Institution. We are forced to confess
+that they generally looked too
+brown&mdash;many of them dingy, many
+loaded with colour, that, when put
+on, was probably rich and transparent:
+we concluded that they had
+changed. Though Sir Joshua, as
+Northcote in his very amusing Memoirs
+of the President assures us,
+would not allow those under him to
+try experiments, and carefully locked
+up his own, that he might more effectually
+discourage the attempt&mdash;considering
+that, in students, it was beginning
+at the wrong end&mdash;yet was
+he himself a great experimentalist.
+He frequently used wax and varnish;
+the decomposition of the latter (mastic)
+would sufficiently account for the
+appearance those pictures wore. We
+see others that have very much faded;
+some that are said to be faded may
+rather have been injured by cleaners;
+the colouring when put on with
+much varnish not bearing the process
+of cleaning, may have been removed,
+and left only the dead and crude
+work. It has been remarked, that
+his pictures have more especially suffered
+under the hands of restorers.
+It must be very difficult for a portrait-painter,
+much employed, and called
+upon to paint a portrait, where short
+time and few sittings are the conditions,
+to paint a lasting work. He is
+obliged to hasten the drying of the
+paint, or to use injurious substances,
+which answer the purpose only for a
+short present. Sir Joshua, too, was
+tempted to use orpiment largely in
+some pictures, which has sadly changed.
+An instance may be seen in the &quot;Holy
+Family&quot; in our National Gallery&mdash;the
+colour of the flesh of the St John is
+ruined from this cause. It is, however,
+one of his worst pictures, and
+could not have been originally designed
+for a &quot;holy family.&quot; The
+Mater is quite a youthful peasant
+girl: we should not regret it if it were
+totally gone. Were Sir Joshua living,
+and could he see it in its present state,
+he would be sure to paint over it, and
+possibly convert it into another subject.
+We do not doubt, however, that
+Sir Joshua deserved the reputation he
+obtained as a colourist in his day. We
+attribute the brown, the horny asphaltum
+look they have, to change. It is
+unquestionably exceedingly mortifying
+to see, while the specimens of the
+Venetian and Flemish colourists are
+at this day so pure and fresh, though
+painted centuries before our schools,
+our comparatively recent productions
+so obscured and otherwise injured. Tingry,
+excellent authority, the Genevan
+chemical professor, laments the practice
+of the English painters of mixing varnish
+with their colours, which, he says,
+shows that they prefer a temporary
+brilliancy to lasting beauty; for that it
+is impossible, that with this practice,
+pictures should either retain their
+brilliancy or even be kept from decay.
+We do not remember to have seen a
+single historical picture of Sir Joshua's
+that has not suffered; happily there
+are yet many of his portraits fresh,
+vigorous, and beautiful in colouring.
+It should seem, that he thought it
+worth while to speculate upon those
+of least value to his reputation.</p>
+
+<p>Portrait-painting, at the commencement
+of Sir Joshua's career, was certainly
+in a very low condition. A general
+receipt for face-making, with
+the greatest facility seemed to have
+been current throughout the country.
+Attitudes and looks were according to
+a pattern; and, accordingly, there was
+so great a family resemblance, however
+unconnected the sitters, that it
+might seem to have been intended to
+promote a brotherly and sisterly bond
+of union among all the descendants of
+Adam. Portrait-painting, which had
+in this country been so good, was in
+fact, with here and there an exception,
+and generally an exception not
+duly estimated, in a degraded state:
+the art in this respect, as in others,
+had become vulgarized. From this
+universal family-likeness recipe, Reynolds
+came suddenly, and at once successfully,
+before the world, with individual
+nature, and variety of character,
+and portraits that had the merit
+of being pictures as well as portraits.
+He led to a complete revolution in this
+department, so that if he had rivals&mdash;and
+he certainly had one in Gainsborough&mdash;they
+were of his own making.
+The change is mostly perceptible in
+female portraits. They assumed grace
+and beauty. Our grandmothers and
+great-grandmothers were strangely
+vilified in their unpleasing likenesses.
+The somewhat loose satin evening-dress,
+with the shepherdess's crook,
+was absurd enough; and no very great
+improvement upon the earlier taste of
+complimenting portraits with the personation
+of the heathen deities. The
+poetical pastoral, however, very soon
+descended to the real pastoral; and,
+as if to make people what they were
+not was considered enough of the historical
+of portrait, even this took.
+We suspect Gainsborough was the
+first to sin in this degradation line,
+by no means the better one for being
+the furthest from the divinities. He
+had painted some rustic figures very
+admirably, and made such subjects a
+fashion; but why they should ever be
+so, we could never understand; or
+why royalty should not be represented
+as royalty, gentry as gentry; to represent
+them otherwise, appears as
+absurd as if our Landseer should attempt
+a greyhound in the character
+of a Newfoundland dog. A picture
+of Gainsborough's was exhibited, a
+year or two ago, in the British Institution,
+Pall-Mall, which we were
+astonished to hear was most highly
+valued; for it was a weak, washy,
+dauby, ill-coloured performance, and
+the design as bad as well could be.
+It was a scene before a cottage-door,
+with the children of George the Third
+as peasant children, in village dirt
+and mire. The picture had no merit
+to recommend it; if we remember
+rightly, it had been painted over, or
+in some way obscured, and unfortunately
+brought to light. Although
+Sir Joshua Reynolds generally introduced
+a new grace into his portraits,
+and mostly so without deviating from
+the character as he found it, dispensing
+indeed with the old affectation,
+we fear he cannot altogether be acquitted
+from the charge of deviating
+from the true propriety of portrait.
+Ladies as Miranda, as Hebe, and even
+as Thais, no very moral compliment,
+are examples&mdash;some there are of the
+lower pastoral. Mrs Macklin and her
+daughter were represented at a spinning-wheel,
+and Miss Potts as a
+gleaner. There is one of somewhat
+higher pretensions, but equally a deviation
+from propriety, in his portraits
+of the Honourable Mistresses Townshend,
+Beresford, and Gardiner. They
+are decorating the statue of Hymen;
+the grace of one figure is too theatrical,
+the others have but little. The
+one kneeling on the ground, and collecting
+the flowers, is, in one respect,
+disagreeable&mdash;the light of the sky,
+too much of the same hue and tone as
+the face, is but little separated from
+it&mdash;in fact, only by the dark hair;
+while all below the face and bosom is
+a too heavy dark mass. Portrait-painters
+are very apt to fail whenever
+they colour their back-grounds to the
+heads of a warm and light sky-colour;
+the force of the complexion is very
+apt to be lost, and the portrait is sure
+to lose its importance. The &quot;General
+on Horseback,&quot; in our National Gallery,
+(Ligonier,) a fine picture, is in
+no small degree hurt by the absence
+of a little greyer tone in the part of
+the sky about the head. By far the
+best portraits by Sir Joshua&mdash;and, fortunately,
+they are the greater part&mdash;are
+those in real character. His very
+genius was for unaffected simplicity;
+attitudinizing recipes could never have
+been adopted by him with satisfaction
+to himself. Some of his slight, more
+sketchy portraits, as yet unexperimented
+upon by his powerful, frequently
+rather too powerful, colouring,
+his deep browns and yellows, are
+unrivalled. Such is his Kitty Fisher,
+not long since exhibited in the British
+Gallery, Pall-Mall. There the character
+is not overpowered by the
+effect.</p>
+
+<p>Gainsborough was the only painter
+of his day that could, with any pretension,
+vie with Sir Joshua Reynolds
+in portrait. In some respects they
+had similar excellences. Both were
+alike, by natural taste, averse to affectation,
+and both were colourists. As
+a colourist, Gainsborough, as his pictures
+are now, may be even preferred
+to Reynolds. They seem to have
+been painted off more at once, and
+have therefore a greater freshness;
+his flesh tints are truly surprising,
+most true to life. He probably painted
+with a more simple palette. The
+pains and labour which Sir Joshua
+bestowed, and which were perhaps
+very surprising when his pictures
+were fresh from the easel, have lost
+much of their virtue. The great difference
+between these great cotemporaries
+lay in their power of character.
+Gainsborough was as true as
+could be to nature, where the character
+was not of the very highest order.
+Plain, downright common sense he
+would hit off wonderfully, as in his
+portrait of Ralphe Schomberg&mdash;a
+picture, we are sorry to find, removed
+from the National Gallery. The
+world's every-day men were for his
+pencil. He did not so much excel in
+women. The bent of Sir Joshua's
+mind was to elevate, to dignify, to intellectualize.
+Enthusiasm, sentiment,
+purity, and all the varied poetry of
+feminine beauty, received their kindred
+hues and most exquisite expression
+under his hand. Whatever was
+dignified in man, or lovely in woman,
+was portrayed with its appropriate
+grace and strength. Sir Joshua was,
+in fact, himself the higher character;
+ever endeavouring to improve and
+cultivate his own mind, to raise it by
+a dignified aim in his art and in his
+life, and gathering the beauty of sentiment
+to himself from its best source&mdash;the
+practice of social and every
+amiable charity&mdash;he was sure to transfer
+to the canvass something characteristic
+of himself. Gainsborough
+was, in his way, a gentle enthusiast,
+altogether of an humbler ambition.
+Even in his landscapes, he showed
+that he saw little in nature but what
+the vulgar see; he had little idea that
+what is commonly seen are the materials
+of a better creation. Gainsborough
+was unrivalled in his portraiture
+of common truth, Reynolds in
+poetical truth. Gainsborough spoke
+in character in one of his letters,
+wherein he said, that he &quot;was well
+read in the volume of nature, and that
+was learning sufficient for him.&quot; It
+is said that he was proud&mdash;perhaps
+his pride was shown in this remark&mdash;but
+it was not a pride allied with
+greatness. The pride of Reynolds
+was quite of another stamp; it did not
+disagree with his soundest judgment;
+his estimate of himself was more true,
+and it showed itself in modesty. That
+such men should meet and associate
+but little, is not surprising. That
+Reynolds withdrew in &quot;cold and
+carefully meted out courtesy,&quot; is not
+surprising, though the expressions
+quoted are written to disparage Reynolds.
+The man of fixed purpose may
+appear cold when he does not assimilate
+with the man of caprice, (as was
+Gainsborough,) in whose company
+there is nothing to call forth a congeniality,
+a sympathy; and it is probable
+that Gainsborough felt as little
+disposed as Sir Joshua, to preserve, or
+even to seek, an intimacy. Their
+final parting at the deathbed of Gainsborough
+was most honourable to them
+both; and the merit of seeking it was
+entirely Gainsborough's. It is singular
+that any facts should be so perverted,
+as to justify an insinuation
+that Reynolds, whose whole life exhibited
+the continued acts of a kind
+heart, was a cautious and cold calculator.
+Good sense has ever a reserve
+of manner, the result of a habit of
+thinking&mdash;and in one of a high aim,
+it is apt to acquire almost a stateliness;
+but even such stateliness is not inconsistent
+with modesty and with feeling;
+it is, in fact, the carriage of the
+mind, seen in the manner and the
+person. We make these remarks
+under a disgust produced by the singularly
+illiberal Life of Reynolds
+by Allan Cunningham; we think we
+should not err in saying, that it is
+maliciously written. We were reading
+this Life, and made many indignant
+remarks as we read, when the
+death of the author was announced
+in the newspapers. We had determined,
+as far as our power might extend,
+to rescue the name and fame of
+Reynolds from the mischief which so
+popular a writer as Allan Cunningham
+was likely to inflict. Death has
+its sanctity, and we hesitated; indeed,
+in regret for the loss of a man of talent,
+we felt for a time little disposed
+to think of the ill he may have done;
+nor was, on mature consideration, the
+regret less, that he could not, by our
+means, be called to review his own
+work&mdash;his &quot;Lives of the British
+Painters&quot;&mdash;in a more candid spirit
+than that in which they appear to have
+been written. It is to be lamented
+that he did not revise it. Its illiberality
+and untruth render it very unfit
+for a &quot;Family Library,&quot; for which it
+was composed. Yet it must be confessed,
+that such regret was rather
+one of momentary feeling, than accompanied
+with any thing like conviction,
+or even hope, that our endeavour
+would have been successful.
+There was no one better acquainted
+with the life of one of the painters in
+his work than ourselves. His Life,
+too, was written in a most illiberal
+spirit, though purposely in praise of
+the artist. But it was as untrue as it
+was illiberal. In a paper in <i>Blackwood</i>,
+some years ago, we noticed some
+of the errors and mistatements. This,
+we happen to know, was seen by the
+author of the &quot;Lives;&quot; for we were,
+in consequence, applied to upon the
+subject; and there being an intention
+expressed to bring out a new edition,
+we were invited to correct what was
+wrong. We did not hesitate, and
+wrote some two or three letters for
+the purpose, and entertained but little
+doubt of their having been favourably
+received, and that they would be used,
+until we were surprised by a communication,
+that the author &quot;was
+much obliged, but was perfectly satisfied
+with his own account.&quot; That is,
+that he was much <i>obliged</i> for an endeavour
+to mislead him by falsehood.
+For both accounts could not
+be true. There were, then, but small
+grounds to hope that Allan Cunningham
+would have so revised his
+work, as to have done justice to Sir
+Joshua Reynolds. Besides, after
+all, &quot;respect for the dead&quot; moves
+both ways. The question is between
+the recently dead and the long since
+dead. In the literary world, and in
+the world of art, both yet live; and
+the author of the Life has this advantage,
+that thousands read the &quot;Family
+Library,&quot; whilst but few, comparatively
+speaking, make themselves
+acquainted with Sir Joshua Reynolds
+and his works. We revere this founder
+of our English school, and feel it due
+to the art we love, to condemn the
+ungenerous and sarcastic spirit of
+The Life, by Allan Cunningham.
+And if the dead could have any interest
+in and guidance of things on earth,
+we can imagine no work that would
+be more pleasing to them, than the
+removal of even the slightest evils
+they may have inflicted; thus making
+restitution for them. It is very evident
+throughout the &quot;Lives,&quot; that the
+author has a prejudice against, an absolute
+dislike to, Sir Joshua Reynolds.
+We stay not to account for it. There
+are men of some opinions who, whether
+from pride, or other feeling, have
+an antipathy to courtly manners, and
+what is called higher society: jealous
+and suspicious lest they should not
+owe, and seen to owe, every thing to
+themselves, there is a constant and irritable
+desire to set aside, with a feigned,
+oftener than a real, contempt, the
+influence and the homage the world
+pays to superiority of rank, station,
+and education. They would wish to
+have nothing above themselves. How
+far such may have been the case with
+the writer of the &quot;Lives,&quot; we know
+not, totally unacquainted as we have
+ever been, but by his writings. In
+them there appears very strongly
+marked this vulgar feeling. He has stepped
+out of his way in other lives, such
+as those of Wilson and Gainsborough,
+to attack Sir Joshua by surmises and
+insinuations of meanness, blurring the
+fair character of his best acts. The
+generous doings of the President were
+too notorious not to be admitted, but
+generally a sinister or selfish motive
+is insinuated. His courtesy was unpleasing,
+while extreme coarseness
+met with a ready apologist. In the
+several Lives of Sir Joshua Reynolds,
+there does not appear the slightest
+ground upon which to found a charge
+of meanness of character: it is inconceivable
+how such should have ever
+been insinuated, while Northcote's
+&quot;Life&quot; of him was in existence, and
+Northcote must have known him well.
+He was most liberal in expenditure,
+as became his station, and the dignity
+which he was ambitiously desirous of
+conferring upon the art over which
+he presided. To artists and others in
+their distresses he was most generous:
+numerous, indeed, are the recorded
+instances; those unrecorded may be
+infinitely more numerous, for generosity
+was with him a habit. In the
+teeth of Mr Cunningham's insinuations
+we will extract from Northcote some
+passages upon this point. &quot;At that
+time, indeed, Johnson was under many
+pecuniary obligations, as well as literary
+ones, to Sir Joshua, whose generous
+kindness would never permit his
+friends to <i>ask</i> a pecuniary favour, his
+purse and heart being always open.&quot;
+That his heart as well as his purse was
+open, the following anecdote more
+than indicates. We are tempted to
+give it unaltered, as we find it in the
+words of Northcote:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;Sir Joshua, as his usual custom, looked
+over the daily morning paper at his
+breakfast time; and on one of those perusals,
+whilst reading an account of the
+Old Bailey sessions, to his great astonishment,
+saw that a prisoner had been tried
+and condemned to death for a robbery
+committed on the person of one of his own
+servants, a negro, who had been with him
+for some time. He immediately rung the
+bell for the servants, in order to make his
+enquiries, and was soon convinced of the
+truth of the matter related in the newspaper.
+This black man had lived in his
+service as footman for several years, and
+has been portrayed in several pictures,
+particularly in one of the Marquis of
+Granby, where he holds the horse of that
+general. Sir Joshua reprimanded this
+black servant for his conduct, and especially
+for not having informed him of this
+curious adventure; when the man said he
+had concealed it only to avoid the blame
+he should have incurred had he told it.
+He then related the following circumstances
+of the business, saying, that Mrs
+Anna Williams (the old blind lady
+lived at the house of Dr Johnson) had
+some time previous dined at Sir Joshua's
+with Miss Reynolds; that in the evening
+she went home to Bolt Court, Fleet Street,
+in a hackney coach, and that he had been
+sent to attend her to her house. On his
+return he had met with companions who
+had detained him till so late an hour, that
+when he came to Sir Joshua's house, he
+found the doors were shut, and all the servants
+gone to rest. In this dilemma he
+wandered in the street till he came to a
+watch-house, in which he took shelter for
+the remainder of the night, among the variety
+of miserable companions to be found
+in such places; and amidst this assembly
+of the wretched, the black man fell sound
+asleep, when a poor thief, who had been
+taken into custody by the constable of the
+night, perceiving, as the man slept, that
+he had a watch and money in his pocket,
+(which was seen on his thigh,) watched
+his opportunity and stole the watch, and
+with a penknife cut through the pocket,
+and so possessed himself of the money.
+When the black awaked from his nap, he
+soon discovered what had been done, to his
+cost, and immediately gave the alarm, and
+a strict search was made through the company;
+when the various articles which the
+black had lost were found in the possession
+of the unfortunate wretch who had
+stolen them. He was accordingly secured,
+and next morning carried before the justice,
+and committed to take his trial at the
+Old Bailey, (the black being bound over
+to prosecute,) and, as we have seen, was
+at his trial cast and condemned to death.
+Sir Joshua, much affected by this recital,
+immediately sent his principal servant,
+Ralph Kirkly, to make all enquiries into
+the state of the criminal, and, if necessary,
+to relieve his wants in whatever way could
+be done. When Kirkly came to the prison he
+was soon admitted to the cell of the prisoner,
+where he beheld the most wretched spectacle
+that imagination can conceive&mdash;a
+poor forlorn criminal, without a friend on
+earth who could relieve or assist him, and
+reduced almost to a skeleton by famine
+and filth, waiting till the dreadful morning
+should arrive when he was to be made an
+end of by a violent death. Sir Joshua
+now ordered fresh clothing to be sent to
+him, and also that the black servant should
+carry him every day a sufficient supply of
+food from his own table; and at that time
+Mr E. Burke being very luckily in office,
+he applied to him, and by their joint interest
+they got his sentence changed to
+transportation; when, after being furnished
+with all necessaries, he was sent out of
+the kingdom.&quot;&mdash;P. 119.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In this year Sir Joshua raised his
+price to fifty guineas for a head size,
+which he continued during the remainder
+of his life. His rapidly accumulating fortune
+was not, however, for his own sole
+enjoyment; he still felt the luxury of doing
+good, and had many objects of bounty
+pointed out to him by his friend Johnson,
+who, in one of his letters, in this year, to
+Mrs Piozzi, enquires 'will the master give
+me any thing for my poor neighbours? I
+have had from Sir Joshua and Mr Strahan.'&quot;&mdash;P. 264.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sir Joshua, indeed, seems to have
+been applied to by his friends on all occasions;
+and by none oftener than by Dr
+Johnson, particularly for charitable purposes.
+Of this there is an instance, in a
+note of Johnson's preserved in his Life, too
+honourable to him to be here omitted.</p>
+
+<p>'To Sir Joshua Reynolds.</p>
+
+<p>'Dear Sir&mdash;It was not before yesterday
+that I received your splendid benefaction.
+To a hand so liberal in distributing,
+I hope nobody will envy the power of acquiring.&mdash;I
+am, dear sir, your obliged
+and most humble servant,</p>
+
+<p>'SAM. JOHNSON.'</p>
+
+<p>'June 23, 1781.'&quot;&mdash;P. 278.</p></div>
+
+<p>The following anecdote is delightful:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;Whilst at Antwerp, Sir Joshua had taken
+particular notice of a young man of
+the name of De Gree, who had exhibited
+some considerable talents as a painter:
+his father was a tailor; and he himself had
+been intended for some clerical office, but,
+as it is said by a late writer, having formed
+a different opinion of his religion than
+was intended, from the books put into his
+hand by an Abb&eacute; who was his patron, it
+was discovered that he would not do for a
+priest, and the Abb&eacute;, therefore, articled
+him to Gerrards of Antwerp. Sir Joshua
+received him, on his arrival in England,
+with much kindness, and even recommended
+him most strongly to pursue his profession
+in the metropolis; but De Gree
+was unwilling to consent to this, as he had
+been previously engaged by Mrs Latouche
+to proceed to Ireland. Even here Sir
+Joshua's friendly attentions did not cease,
+for he actually made the poor artist a present
+of fifty guineas to fit him for his Hibernian
+excursion; the whole of which,
+however, the careful son sent over to
+Antwerp for the use of his aged parents.&quot;&mdash;P. 284.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is also recorded, as an instance of
+his prizing extraordinary merit, that when
+Gainsborough asked him but sixty guineas
+for his celebrated Girl and Pigs, yet being
+conscious in his own mind that it was worth
+more, he liberally paid him down one
+hundred guineas for the picture. I also find
+it mentioned on record, that a painter of
+considerable merit, having unfortunately
+made an injudicious matrimonial choice, was
+along with that and its consequences as
+well as an increasing family, in a few years
+reduced so very low, that he could not
+venture out without danger of being arrested&mdash;a
+circumstance which, in a great
+measure, put it out of his power to dispose
+of his pictures to advantage. Sir Joshua
+having accidentally heard of his situation,
+immediately hurried to his residence to
+enquire into the truth of it, when the unfortunate
+man told him all the melancholy
+particulars of his lot, adding, that forty
+pounds would enable him to compound
+with his creditors. After some further
+conversation, Sir Joshua took his leave,
+telling the distressed man he would do
+something for him; and when he was bidding
+him adieu at the door, he took him
+by the hand, and after squeezing it in a
+friendly way hurried off with that kind of
+triumph in his heart the exalted of human
+kind only know by experience whilst the
+astonished artist found that he had left in his
+hand a bank-note for one hundred pounds.&quot;</p></div>
+
+<p>Of such traits of benevolence certainly
+many other instances may be
+recorded, but I shall only mention
+two; &quot;the one is the purchasing a picture
+of Zoffani, who was without a
+patron, and selling it to the Earl of
+Carlisle for twenty guineas above the
+price given for it; and he sent the
+advanced price immediately to Zoffani,
+saying 'he thought he had sold the
+picture at first below its real value.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The other is&mdash;&quot;the clergyman who
+succeeded Sir Joshua's father as master
+of the grammar-school at Plympton,
+at his decease left a widow, who,
+after the death of her husband, opened
+a boarding school for the education of
+young ladies. The governess who
+taught in this school had but few
+friends in situations to enable them to
+do her much service, and her sole dependence
+was on her small stipend
+from the school: hence she was unable
+to make a sufficiently reputable appearance
+in apparel at their accustomed
+little balls. The daughter of
+the schoolmistress, her only child,
+and at that time a very young girl,
+felt for the poor governess, and the
+pitiable insufficiency in the article of
+finery; but being unable to help her
+from her own resources, devised within
+herself a means by which it might be
+done otherwise. Having heard of the
+great fame of Sir Joshua Reynolds,
+his character for generosity, and charity,
+and recollecting that he had
+formerly belonged to the Plympton
+school, she, without mentioning a syllable
+to any of her companions, addressed
+a letter to Sir Joshua, whom
+she had never even seen, in which she
+represented to him the forlorn state
+of the poor governess's wardrobe,
+and begged the gift of a silk gown for
+her. Very shortly after, they received
+a box containing silks of different patterns,
+sufficient for two dresses, to the
+infinite astonishment of the simple governess,
+who was totally unable to
+account for this piece of good fortune,
+as the compassionate girl was afraid
+to let her know the means she had
+taken in order to procure the welcome
+present.&quot;&mdash;P. 307.</p>
+
+<p>Mr Duyes, the artist, says&mdash;&quot;malice
+has charged him with avarice,
+probably from his not having been
+prodigal, like too many of his profession;
+his offer to me proves the contrary.
+At the time that I made the
+drawings of the King at St Paul's after
+his illness, Reynolds complimented
+me handsomely on seeing them, and
+afterwards observed, that the labour
+bestowed must have been such, that I
+could not be remunerated from selling
+them; but if I would publish them
+myself, he would lend me the money
+necessary, and engage to get me a
+handsome subscription among the nobility.&quot;&mdash;P. 35l.</p>
+
+<p>We will here mention an anecdote
+which we believe has never been published;
+we heard it from our excellent
+friend, and enthusiastic admirer
+of all that taste, good sense, and good
+feeling should admire and love, in
+art or out of it&mdash;now far advanced in
+years, and, like Sir Joshua, blind, but
+full of enjoyment and conversation
+fresh as ever upon art, for he remembers
+and hears, beloved by all who
+know him, G. Cumberland, Esq., author
+of &quot;Outlines,&quot; &amp;c. &amp;c. He it was
+who recommended Collins, the miniature-painter,
+to Sir Joshua. Now
+poor Collins was one of the most nervous
+of men, morbidly distrustful of
+himself and his powers. Our friend
+showed us a portrait of Collins, painted
+by himself, the very picture of most
+sensitive nervousness. Well&mdash;Collins
+waited upon Sir Joshua, who gave him
+a picture to copy for him in miniature.
+Collins took it, and trembled, and
+looked all diffidence as he examined
+Sir Joshua's original. However, he
+took it home with him, and after some
+time came to Cumberland in great
+agitation, expressing a conviction
+that he never could copy it, that he
+had destroyed three attempts, and
+this, said he, is the best I can do, and
+I will destroy it. This Cumberland
+would not allow, and took possession
+of it, and an admirable performance
+it is. Soon another was done, and
+Collins took it to Sir Joshua, with
+many timid expressions and apologies
+for his inability, that he feared displeasure
+for having undertaken a work
+above him. Sir Joshua looked at it,
+declared it to be, as it was, a most excellent
+copy, and gave him more to
+do in the same way&mdash;telling him to
+go to his scrutoire, open a drawer,
+and he would find some guineas,
+and to take out twenty to pay himself.
+&quot;Twenty guineas!&quot; said Collins,
+&quot;I should not have thought
+of receiving more than three!&quot; This
+kindness and liberality set up poor
+Collins with a better stock of self-confidence,
+and he made his way to
+celebrity in his line, and to fortune.</p>
+
+<p>Is it in human nature, that the man
+of whom such anecdotes are told, and
+truly told, could be guilty of a mean
+unworthy action? Perhaps the reader
+will be curious to see how the
+writer of the &quot;British Painters,&quot; who,
+from the recent date of his publication,
+must have known all these incidents,
+excepting the last, has converted
+some of them, by insinuating
+sarcasm, into charges that blurr their
+virtue. We should say that he has
+omitted, where he could omit&mdash;where
+he could not, he is compelled to contradict
+himself; for it is impossible that
+the insinuations, and the facts, and
+occasional acknowledgments, should
+be together true of one and the same
+man. We shall offer some specimens
+of this <i>illiberal style</i>:&mdash;A neighbour of
+Reynolds's first advised him to settle
+in London. His success there made
+him remember this friendly advice&mdash;(the
+neighbour's name was Cranch.)
+We quote now from Cunningham.
+&quot;The timely counsel of his neighbour
+Cranch would have long afterwards
+been rewarded with the present
+of a silver cup, had not accident interfered.
+'Death,' says Northcote,
+'prevented this act of gratitude. I
+have seen the cup at Sir Joshua's
+table.' The painter had the honour
+of the intention and the use of the
+cup&mdash;a twofold advantage, of which he
+was not insensible.&quot;&mdash;<i>Lives of British
+Painters</i>, Vol. i, p. 220.&mdash;&quot;Of lounging
+visitors he had great abhorrence,
+and, as he reckoned up the fruits of
+his labours, 'Those idle people,' said
+this disciple of the grand historical
+school of Raphael and Angelo&mdash;'those
+idle people do not consider that my
+time is worth five guineas an hour.'
+This calculation incidentally informs
+us, that it was Reynolds's practice, in
+the height of his reputation and success,
+to paint a portrait in four hours.&quot;&mdash;P. 251.
+In <i>this</i> Life, he could depreciate
+art, (in a manner we are persuaded
+he could not feel,) because it
+lowered the estimation of the painter
+whom he disliked. &quot;One of the biographers
+of Reynolds imputes the
+reflections contained in the conclusion
+of this letter, 'to that envy, which
+perhaps even Johnson felt, when comparing
+his own annual gains with
+those of his more fortunate friend.'
+They are rather to be attributed to
+the sense and taste of Johnson, who
+could not but feel the utter worthlessness
+of the far greater part of the
+productions with which the walls of
+the Exhibition-room were covered.
+Artists are very willing to claim for
+their profession and its productions
+rather more than the world seems disposed
+to concede. It is very natural
+that this should be so; but it is also
+natural, that man of Johnson's taste
+should be conscious of the dignity of
+his own pursuits, and agree with the
+vast majority of mankind in ranking
+a Homer, a Virgil, a Milton, or a
+Shakspeare, immeasurably above all
+the artists that ever painted or carved.
+Johnson, in a conversation with Boswell,
+defined painting to be an art which
+could illustrate, but could not inform.&quot;&mdash;P. 255.
+Does he so speak
+of this art in any other Life; and
+is not this view false and ill-natured?
+Were not Raffaelle, Michael Angelo,
+Correggio, Titian, Piombo, epic
+poets?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Johnson was a frequent and a
+welcome guest. Though the sage was
+not seldom sarcastic and overbearing,
+he was endured and caressed, because
+he poured out the riches of his conversation
+more lavishly than Reynolds
+did his wines.&quot; He was compelled,
+a sentence or two after, to add,
+&quot;It was honourable to that distinguished
+artist, that he perceived the
+worth of such men, and felt the honour
+which their society shed upon
+him; but it stopped not here, he often
+aided them with his purse, nor <i>insisted</i>
+upon repayment.&quot;&mdash;P. 258. We
+have marked &quot;insisted&quot;&mdash;it implies repayment
+was expected, if not enforced;
+and it might have been said, that a
+mutual &quot;honour&quot; was conferred.
+Speaking of Northcote's and Malone's
+account of Sir Joshua's &quot;social
+and well-furnished table,&quot; he adds,
+&quot;these accounts, however, in as far
+as regards the splendour of the entertainments,
+must be received with some
+abatement. The eye of a youthful
+pupil was a little blinded by enthusiasm.
+That of Malone was rendered
+friendly, by many acts of hospitality,
+and a handsome legacy; while literary
+men and artists, who came to
+speak of books and paintings, cared
+little for the most part about the delicacy
+of the entertainment, provided
+it were wholesome.&quot; Here he quotes
+at length, no very good-natured account
+of the dinners given by Courteney.&mdash;P.
+273. Even his sister, poor
+Miss Reynolds, whom Johnson loved
+and respected, must have her share of
+the writer's sarcasm. &quot;Miss
+Reynolds seems to have been as indifferent
+about the good order of her
+domestics, and the appearance of her
+dishes at table, as her brother was
+about the distribution of his wine and
+venison. Plenty was the splendour,
+and freedom was the elegance, which
+Malone and Boswell found in the entertainments
+of the artist.&quot;&mdash;P. 275.
+If Reynolds was sparing of his wine,
+the word &quot;plenty&quot; was most inappropriate.
+Even the remark of Dunning,
+Lord Ashburton, is perverted from its
+evident meaning, and as explained by
+Northcote, and the perversion casts a
+slur upon Sir Joshua's guests; yet is
+it well known who they were. &quot;Well,
+Sir Joshua,&quot; he said, &quot;and who have
+you got to dine with you to-day?&mdash;the
+last time I dined in your house,
+the company was of such a sort, that
+by &mdash;&mdash;, I believe all the rest of the
+world enjoyed peace for that
+afternoon.&quot;&mdash;P. 276. This is a gross
+idea, and unworthy a gentle mind.
+&quot;By an opinion so critically sagacious,
+and an apology for portrait-painting,
+which appeals so effectually
+to the kindly side of human nature,
+Johnson repaid a hundred dinners.&quot;&mdash;P.
+276. The liberality to De Gree
+is shortly told.&mdash;P. 298. &quot;I have
+said that the President was frugal in
+his communications respecting the
+sources from whence he drew his own
+practice&mdash;he forgets his caution in one
+of these notes.&quot;&mdash;P. 303. We must
+couple this with some previous remarks;
+it is well known that Sir
+Joshua, as Northcote tells us, carefully
+locked up his experiments, and
+for more reasons than one: first, he
+was dissatisfied, as these were but
+experiments; secondly, he considered
+experimenting would draw away
+pupils from the rudiments of the art.
+Surely nothing but illiberal dislike
+would have perverted the plain meaning
+of the act. &quot;The secret of Sir
+Joshua's own preparations was
+carefully kept&mdash;he permitted not even the
+most favoured of his pupils to acquire
+the knowledge of his colours&mdash;he had
+all securely locked, and allowed no
+one to enter where these treasures
+were deposited. What was the use
+of all this secrecy? Those who stole
+the mystery of his colours, could not
+use it, unless they stole his skill and
+talent also. A man who, like Reynolds,
+chooses to take upon himself
+the double office of public and private
+instructor of students in painting,
+ought not surely to retain a secret in
+the art, which he considers of real
+value.&quot;&mdash;P. 287. He was, in fact,
+too honest to mislead; and that he
+did not think the right discovery made,
+the author must have known; for
+Northcote says&mdash;&quot;when I was a student
+at the Royal Academy, I was accidentally
+repeating to Sir Joshua
+the instructions on colouring I had
+heard there given by an eminent painter,
+who then attended as visitor. Sir
+Joshua replied, that this painter was
+undoubtedly a very sensible man, but
+by no means a good colourist; adding,
+that there was not a man then
+on earth who had the least notion of
+colouring. 'We all of us,' said he,
+'have it equally to seek for and find
+out&mdash;as, at present, it is totally lost to
+the art.'&quot;&mdash;&quot;In his economy he was
+close and saving; while he poured out
+his wines and spread out his tables to
+the titled or the learned, he stinted
+his domestics to the commonest fare,
+and rewarded their faithfulness by
+very moderate wages. One of his
+servants, who survived till lately, described
+him as a master who exacted
+obedience in trifles&mdash;was prudent in
+the matter of pins&mdash;a saver of bits of
+thread&mdash;a man hard and parsimonious,
+who never thought he had enough of
+labour out of his dependents, and
+always suspected that he overpaid them.
+To this may be added the public opinion,
+which pictured him close, cautious,
+and sordid. On the other side, we
+have the open testimony of Burke,
+Malone, Boswell, and Johnson, who
+all represent him as generous,
+open-hearted, and humane. The servants
+and the friends both spoke, we doubt
+not, according to their own experience
+of the man. Privations in early
+life rendered strict economy
+necessary; and in spite of many acts of
+kindness, his mind, on the whole,
+failed to expand with his fortune. He
+continued the same system of saving
+when he was master of sixty thousand
+pounds, as when he owned but sixpence.
+He loved reputation dearly,
+and it would have been well for his
+fame, if, over and above leaving legacies
+to such friends as Burke and
+Malone, he had opened his heart to
+humbler people. A little would have
+gone a long way&mdash;a kindly word and
+a guinea prudently given.&quot;&mdash;P. 319.
+Opened his heart to humbler people!
+was the author of this libel upon a
+generous character, ignorant of his
+charity to humbler people, which
+Johnson certified? Why did he not
+narrate the robbery of the black
+servant, and his kindness to the
+humblest and the most wretched? What
+was fifty guineas to poor De Gree?
+Who were the humbler people to
+whom he denied his bounty? And is
+the fair fame, the honest reputation&mdash;the
+honourable reputation, we
+should say&mdash;of such a man as Sir
+Joshua Reynolds&mdash;such as he has
+been proved to be&mdash;such as not only
+such men as Burke and Johnson knew
+him, but such as his pupil and inmate
+Northcote knew him&mdash;to be vilified by
+a low-minded biography, the dirty
+ingredients of which are raked up from
+lying mouths, or, at least, incapable
+of judging of such a character&mdash;from
+the lips of servants, whose idle tales of
+masters who discard them, it is the
+common usage of the decent, not to
+say well-bred world, to pay no attention
+to&mdash;not to listen to&mdash;and whom
+none hear but the vulgar-curious, or
+the slanderous? But if a servant's
+evidence must be taken, the fact of
+the exhibition of Sir Joshua's works
+for his servant Kirkly should have
+been enough&mdash;to say nothing here of
+his black servant. But the story of
+Kirkly is mentioned&mdash;and how
+mentioned? To rake up a malevolent or
+a thoughtless squib of the day, to
+make it appear that Sir Joshua shared
+in the gains of an exhibition ostensibly
+given to his servant. The joke
+is noticed by Northcote, and the
+exhibition, thus:&mdash;&quot;The private exhibition
+of 1791, in the Haymarket, has
+been already mentioned, and some
+notice taken of it by a wicked wit,
+who, at the time, wished to insinuate
+that Sir Joshua was a partaker in the
+profits. But this was not the truth;
+neither do I believe there were any
+profits to share. However, these lines
+from Hudibras were inserted in a
+morning paper, together with some
+observations on the exhibition of
+pictures collected by the knight&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p>'A squire he had whose name was Ralph</p>
+<p>Who in the adventure went his half,'</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>thus gaily making a sacrifice of truth
+to a joke.&quot; It is very evident that this
+was a mere newspaper squib, and
+suggested by the &quot;knight and his
+squire Ralph;&quot; but Cunningham so
+gives it as &quot;the opinion of many,&quot;
+and with rather more than a suspicion
+of its truth. &quot;Sir Joshua made an
+exhibition of them in the Haymarket,
+for the advantage of his faithful
+servant Ralph Kirkly; but our painter's
+well-known love of gain excited public
+suspicion; he was considered by
+many as a partaker in the profits, and
+reproached by the application of two
+lines from Hudibras.&quot;&mdash;P. 117. But
+this report from a servant is evidently
+no servant's report at all, as far as the
+words go: they are redolent throughout
+of the peculiar satire of the author
+of the &quot;Lives,&quot; who so loves point
+and antithesis, who tells us Sir Joshua
+&quot;poured&quot; out his wines, (the
+distribution of which he had otherwise
+spoken of,) that the <i>stint</i> to the
+servants may have its fullest opposition.
+And again, as to the humbler, does he
+not contradict himself? He prefaces
+the fact that Sir Joshua gave a
+hundred guineas to Gainsborough, who
+asked sixty, for his &quot;Girl and Pigs,&quot;
+thus&mdash;&quot;Reynolds was commonly
+humane and tolerant; he could indeed
+afford, both in fame and purse, to
+commend and aid the timid and
+needy.&quot;&mdash;P. 304. This is qualifying
+vilely a generous action, while it
+contradicts his assertion of being sparing
+of &quot;a kindly word and a guinea.&quot; Nor
+are the occasional criticisms on
+passages in the &quot;Discourses&quot; in a better
+spirit, nor are they exempt from a
+vulgar taste as to views of art; their
+sole object is, apparently, to depreciate
+Reynolds; and though a selection of
+individual sentences might be picked
+out, as in defence, of an entirely
+laudatory character, they are contradicted
+by others, and especially by the
+sarcastic tone of the Life, taken as
+a whole. But it is not only in the
+Life of Reynolds that this attempt
+is made to depreciate him. In his
+&quot;Lives&quot; of Wilson and Gainsborough,
+he steps out of his way to throw his
+abominable sarcasm upon Reynolds.
+One of many passages in Wilson's
+Life says, &quot;It is reported that
+Reynolds relaxed his hostility at last, and,
+becoming generous when it was too
+late, obtained an order from a nobleman
+for two landscapes at a proper price.&quot;
+So he insinuates an unworthy hypocrisy,
+while lauding the bluntness of
+Wilson. &quot;Such was the blunt
+honesty of his (Wilson's) nature, that,
+when drawings were shown him which
+he disliked, he disdained, or was
+unable to give a courtly answer, and
+made many of the students his
+enemies. Reynolds had the sagacity to
+escape from such difficulties, by looking
+at the drawings and saying
+'Pretty, pretty,' which vanity invariably
+explained into a compliment.&quot;&mdash;P. 207.
+After having thus spoken
+shamefully of Sir Joshua Reynolds in
+the body of his work, he reiterates all
+in a note, confirming all as his not
+hasty but deliberate opinion, having
+&quot;now again gone over the narrative
+very carefully, and found it impossible,
+without violating the truth, to
+make any alteration of importance as
+to its facts;&quot; and though he has
+omitted so much which might have
+been given to the honour of Reynolds,
+he is &quot;unconscious of having omitted
+any enquiry likely to lead him aright.&quot;&mdash;P. 320.
+He may have made the
+enquiry without using the information&mdash;a
+practice not inconsistent in
+such a biographer. For instance,
+when he assumes, that in the portrait
+of Beattie, the figures of Scepticism,
+Sophistry, and Infidelity, represent
+Hume, Voltaire, and Gibbon;
+remarking, that they have survived the
+&quot;insult of Reynolds.&quot; An enquiry
+from Northcote ought to have led him
+to conclude otherwise, for Northcote,
+who had the best means of knowing,
+says, &quot;Because one of those figures
+was a lean figure, (alluding to the
+subordinate ones introduced,) and the
+other a fat one, people of lively
+imaginations pleased themselves with
+finding in them the portraits of
+Voltaire and Hume. But Sir Joshua, I
+have reason to believe, had no such
+thought when he painted those figures.&quot;
+We have done with this disgusting
+Life. We would preserve to art
+and the virtue-loving part of mankind
+the great <i>integrity</i> of the character of
+Sir Joshua Reynolds. Documents and
+testimonies are sufficient to establish
+as much entire worth as falls to the
+lot and adornment of the best; and to
+bring this conviction, that, for the
+justice, candour, liberality, kindness,
+and generosity, which he showed in
+his dealings with all, even his
+professional rivals, if he had not had the
+extraordinary merit of being the greatest
+British painter, he deserved, and
+will deserve, the respect of mankind;
+and to have had his many and great
+virtues recorded in a far other manner
+than in that among the &quot;Lives of
+the British Painters.&quot; His pictures
+may have faded, and may decay; but
+his precepts will still live, and tend to
+the establishment and continuance of
+art built upon the soundest principles;
+and the virtues of the man will ever
+give a grace to the profession which
+he adorned, and, for the benefit of art,
+contribute mainly to his own fame.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nihil enim est opere aut manu
+factum, quod aliquando non conficiat
+et consumat Vetustas; at vero h&aelig;c
+tua justitia et lenitas animi florescet
+quotidie magis, ita ut quantum operibus
+tuis dinturnitas detrahet, tantum
+afferet laudibus.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He had,&quot; says Burke, &quot;from the
+beginning of his malady, a distinct
+view of his dissolution; and he
+contemplated it with that entire composure,
+which nothing but the innocence,
+integrity, and usefulness of his life,
+and an unaffected submission to the
+will of Providence, could bestow.&quot;</p>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+
+<a name="bw329s4" id="bw329s4"></a><h2>LEAP-YEAR.&mdash;A TALE.</h2>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>In the summer of 1838, in the pleasant
+little county of Huntingdon, and
+under the shade of some noble elms
+which form the pride of Lipscombe
+Park, two young men might have
+been seen reclining. The thick, and
+towering, and far-spreading branches
+under which they lay, effectually
+protected them from a July sun, which
+threw its scorching brilliancy over
+the whole landscape before them.
+They seemed to enjoy to the full that
+delightful <i>retired openness</i> which an
+English park affords, and that easy
+effortless communion which only old
+companionship can give. They were,
+in fact, fellow collegians. The one,
+Reginald Darcy by name, was a ward
+of Mr Sherwood, the wealthy
+proprietor of Lipscombe Park; the other,
+his friend, Charles Griffith, was passing
+a few days with him in this agreeable
+retreat. They had spent the
+greater part of the morning strolling
+through the park, making short
+journeys from one clump of trees to
+another, and traversing just so much of
+the open sunny space which lay
+exposed to all the &quot;bright severity of
+noon,&quot; as gave fresh value to the shade,
+and renewed the luxury of repose.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Only observe,&quot; said Darcy, breaking
+silence, after a long pause, and
+without any apparent link of
+connexion between their last topic of
+conversation and the sage reflection he
+was about to launch&mdash;&quot;only
+observe,&quot; and, as he raised himself upon
+his elbow, something very like a sigh
+escaped from him, &quot;how complete, in
+our modern system of life, is the
+ascendency of woman over us! Every art
+is hers&mdash;is devoted to her service.
+Poetry, music, painting, sculpture&mdash;all
+seem to have no theme but
+woman. It is her loveliness, her power
+over us, that is paraded and chanted
+on every side. Poets have been always
+mad on the beauty of woman, but
+never so mad as now; we must not
+only submit to be sense-enthralled,
+the very innermost spirit of a man is
+to be deliberately resigned to the
+tyranny of a smooth brow and a soft
+eye. Music, which grows rampant
+with passion, speaks in all its tones of
+woman: as long as the strain lasts
+we are in a frenzy of love, though it
+is not very clear with whom, and
+happily the delirium ends the moment
+the strings of the violin have ceased
+to vibrate. What subject has the
+painter worth a rush but the beauty
+of woman? We gaze for ever on the
+charming face which smiles on us
+from his canvass; we may gaze with
+perfect license&mdash;that veil which has
+just been lifted to the brow, it will
+never be dropt again&mdash;but we do not
+gaze with perfect impunity; we turn
+from the lovely shadow with knees how
+prone to bend! And as to the sculptor,
+on condition that he hold to the pure
+colourless marble, is he not permitted
+to reveal the sacred charms of Venus
+herself? Every art is hers. Go to
+the theatre, and whether it be tragedy,
+or comedy, or opera, or dance,
+the attraction of woman is the very life
+of all that is transacted there. Shut
+yourself up at home with the poem or
+the novel, and lo! to love, and to be
+loved, by one fair creature, is all that
+the world has to dignify with the name
+of happiness. It is too much. The
+heart aches and sickens with an
+unclaimed affection, kindled to no
+purpose. Every where the eye, the ear,
+the imagination, is provoked, bewildered,
+haunted by the magic of this
+universal syren.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what is worse,&quot; continued
+our profound philosopher&mdash;and here
+he rose from his elbow, and supported
+himself at arm's length from the
+ground, one hand resting on the turf,
+the other at liberty, if required, for
+oratorical action&mdash;&quot;what is worse,
+this place which woman occupies in
+<i>art</i> is but a fair reflection of that
+which she fills in real life. Just
+heavens! what a perpetual wonder it is,
+this living, breathing beauty! Throw
+all your metaphors to the winds&mdash;your
+poetic raptures&mdash;your ideals&mdash;your
+romance of position and of
+circumstance: look at a fair, amiable,
+cultivated woman, as you meet her in
+the actual, commonplace scenes of
+life: she is literally, prosaically
+speaking, the last consummate result of
+the creative power of nature, and the
+gathered refinements of centuries of
+human civilization. The world can
+show nothing comparable to that light,
+graceful figure of the girl just blooming
+into perfect womanhood. Imagination
+cannot go beyond it. There
+is all the marvel, if you think of it,
+in that slight figure, as she treads
+across the carpet of a modern drawing-room,
+that has ever been expressed
+in, or given origin to, the nymphs,
+goddesses, and angels that the fancy of
+man has teemed with. I declare that
+a pious heathen would as soon insult
+the august statue of Minerva herself,
+as would any civilized being treat
+that slender form with the least show
+of rudeness and indignity. A Chartist,
+indeed, or a Leveller, would do it;
+but it would pain him&mdash;he would be
+a martyr to his principles. Verily
+we are slaves to the fair miracle!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said his companion, who
+had all this time been leisurely pulling
+to pieces some wild flowers he had
+gathered in the course of the morning's
+ramble, &quot;what does it all end
+in? What, at last, but the old story&mdash;love
+and a marriage?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Love often where there is no possibility
+of marriage,&quot; replied Darcy,
+starting up altogether from his recumbent
+posture, and pacing to and fro under
+the shadow of the tree. &quot;The full
+heart, how often does it swell only to
+feel the pressure of the iron bond of
+poverty! This very sentiment, which
+our cultivation refines, fosters, makes
+supreme, is encountered by that harsh
+and cruel evil which grows also with
+the growth of civilization&mdash;poverty&mdash;civilized
+poverty. Oh, 'tis a frightful
+thing, this well-born, well-bred poverty!
+There is a pauper state,
+which, loathsome as it is to look upon,
+yet brings with it a callousness to
+endure all inflictions, and a recklessness
+that can seize with avidity whatever
+coarse fragments of pleasure the
+day or the hour may afford. But this
+poverty applies itself to nerves strung
+for the subtlest happiness. No torpor
+here; no moments of rash and unscrupulous
+gratification&mdash;unreflected
+on, unrepented of&mdash;which being often
+repeated make, in the end, a large
+sum of human life; but the heart incessantly
+demands a genuine and enduring
+happiness, and is incessantly
+denied. It is a poverty which even
+helps to keep alive the susceptibility
+it tortures; for the man who has
+never loved, or been the object of affection,
+whose heart has been fed only
+by an untaught imagination, feels a
+passion&mdash;feels a regret&mdash;it may be
+far more than commensurate with
+that envied reality which life possesses
+and withholds from him. No!
+there is nothing in the circle of human
+existence more fearful to contemplate
+than this perpetual divorce&mdash;irrevocable,
+yet pronounced anew each instant
+of our lives&mdash;between the soul and its
+best affections. And&mdash;look you!--this
+misery passes along the world under
+the mask of easy indifference, and
+wears a smiling face, and submits to
+be rallied by the wit, and assumes itself
+the air of vulgar jocularity. Oh,
+this penury that goes well clad, and
+is warmly housed, and makes a mock
+of its own anguish&mdash;I'd rather die on
+the wheel, or be starved to death in a
+dungeon!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My excellent friend!&quot; cried Griffith,
+startled from his quiescent posture,
+and tranquil occupation, by the
+growing excitement of his companion,
+&quot;what has possessed you? Is it the
+daughter of our worthy host&mdash;is it
+Emily Sherwood, the nymph who
+haunts these woods&mdash;who has given
+birth to this marvellous train of reflection?
+to this rhapsody on the omnipresence
+of woman, which I certainly
+had never discovered, and on the
+misery of a snug bachelor's income,
+which to me is still more incomprehensible?
+I confess, however, it
+would be difficult to find a better specimen
+of this fearfully fascinating sex.&quot;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pshaw!&quot; interrupted Darcy, &quot;what
+is the heiress of Lipscombe Park to
+me?&mdash;a girl who might claim alliance
+with the wealthiest and noblest of the
+land&mdash;to me, who have just that rag
+of property, enough to keep from open
+shame one miserable biped? Can a
+man never make a general reflection
+upon one of the most general of all
+topics, without being met by a personal
+allusion? I thought you had
+been superior, Griffith, to this dull
+and hackneyed retort.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, well; be not wroth&quot;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I <i>am</i>. There is something
+so odious in this trite and universal
+banter. Besides, to have it intimated,
+even in jest, that I would take advantage
+of my position in this family to
+pay my ridiculous addresses to Miss
+Sherwood&mdash;I do declare, Griffith, I
+never will again to you, or any other
+man, touch upon this subject, but in
+the same strain of unmeaning levity
+one is compelled to listen to, and imitate,
+in the society of coxcombs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At all events,&quot; said Griffith,
+&quot;give me leave to say that <i>I</i> admire
+Miss Sherwood, and that I shall think
+it a crying shame if so beautiful and
+intelligent a girl is suffered to fall into
+the clutches of this stupid baronet who
+is laying siege to her&mdash;this pompous,
+empty-headed Sir Frederic Beaumantle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sir Frederic Beaumantle,&quot; said
+Darcy, with some remains of humour,
+&quot;may be all you describe him, but he
+is very rich, and, mark me, he will
+win the lady. Old Sherwood suspects
+him for a fool, but his extensive estates
+are unincumbered&mdash;he will approve his
+suit. His daughter makes him a constant
+laughing-stock, she is perpetually
+ridiculing his presumption and his vanity;
+but she will end by marrying
+the rich baronet. It will be in the
+usual course of things; society will
+expect it; and it is so safe, so prudent,
+to do what society expects. Let
+wealth wed with wealth. It is quite
+right. I would never advise any man
+to marry a woman much richer than
+himself, so as to be indebted to her
+for his position in society. It is useless
+to say, or to feel, that her
+wealth was not the object of your suit. You
+may carry it how you will&mdash;what says
+the song?</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p>'<i>She</i> never will forget;</p>
+<p>The gold she gave was not thy <i>gain</i>,</p>
+<p>But it must be thy <i>debt</i>.'</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&quot;But come, our host is punctual to
+his dinner hour, and if we journey
+back at the same pace we have travelled
+here, we shall not have much
+time upon our hands.&quot; And accordingly
+the two friends set themselves in
+motion to return to the house.</p>
+
+<p>Our readers have, of course, discovered
+that, in spite of his disclaimer,
+Reginald Darcy <i>was</i> in love with
+Emily Sherwood. He was, indeed,
+very far gone, and had suffered great
+extremities; but his pride had kept
+pace with his passion. Left an orphan
+at an early age, and placed by
+the will of his father under the guardianship
+of Mr Sherwood, Darcy had
+found in the residence of that gentleman
+a home during the holidays when
+a schoolboy, and during the vacations
+when a collegian. Having lately taken
+his degree at Cambridge, with
+high honours, which had been strenuously
+contended for, and purchased by
+severe labour, he was now recruiting
+his health, and enjoying a season of
+well-earned leisure under his guardian's
+roof. As Mr Sherwood was old
+and gouty, and confined much to his
+room, it fell on him to escort Emily
+in her rides or walks. She whom he
+had known, and been so often delighted
+with, as his little playmate, had grown
+into the young and lovely woman.
+Briefly, our Darcy was a lost man&mdash;gone&mdash;head
+and heart. But then&mdash;she
+was the only daughter of Mr
+Sherwood, she was a wealthy heiress&mdash;he
+was comparatively poor. Her
+father had been to him the kindest of
+guardians: ought he to repay that
+kindness by destroying, perhaps, his
+proudest schemes? Ought he, a man
+of fitting and becoming pride, to put
+himself in the equivocal position which
+the poor suitor of a wealthy heiress must
+inevitably occupy? &quot;He invites me,&quot;
+he would say to himself, &quot;he presses
+me to stay here, week after week,
+and month after month, because the
+idea that I should seek to carry away
+his daughter never enters into his
+head. And she&mdash;she is so frank, so
+gay, so amiable, and almost fond, because
+she has never recognized, with
+the companion of her childhood, the
+possibility of such a thing as marriage.
+There is but one part for me&mdash;silence,
+strict, unbroken silence!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Charles Griffith was not far from
+the truth, when he said that it would
+be difficult to find a better specimen
+of her fascinating sex than the daughter
+of their host. But it was not her
+beauty, remarkable as this was&mdash;it
+was not her brightest of blue eyes, nor
+her fairest of complexions, nor those
+rich luxuriant tresses&mdash;that formed the
+greatest charm in Emily Sherwood.
+It was the delightful combination she
+displayed of a cheerful vivacious temper
+with generous and ardent feelings.
+She was as light and playful as one of
+the fawns in her own park, but her
+heart responded also to every noble
+and disinterested sentiment; and the
+poet who sought a listener for some
+lofty or tender strain, would have
+found the spirit that he wanted in the
+gay and mirth-loving Emily Sherwood.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Darcy! he would sit, or walk,
+by her side, talking of this or that, no
+matter what, always happy in her presence,
+passing the most delicious hours,
+but not venturing to betray, by word
+or look, how very content he was.
+For these hours of stolen happiness
+he knew how severe a penalty he must
+pay: he knew and braved it. And
+in our poor judgment he was right.
+Let the secret, stealthy, unrequited
+lover enjoy to the full the presence,
+the smiles, the bland and cheerful society
+of her whom his heart is silently
+worshipping. Even this shall in future
+hours be a sweet remembrance.
+By and by, it is true, there will come
+a season of poignant affliction. But
+better all this than one uniform, perpetual
+torpor. He will have felt that
+mortal man <i>may</i> breathe the air of
+happiness; he will have learned something
+of the human heart that lies
+within him.</p>
+
+<p>But all this love&mdash;was it seen&mdash;was
+it returned&mdash;by her who had inspired
+it? Both, both. He thought, wise
+youth! that while he was swallowing
+draught after draught of this delicious
+poison, no one perceived the deep intoxication
+he was revelling in. Just
+as wisely some veritable toper, by putting
+on a grave and demure countenance,
+cheats himself into the belief
+that he conceals from every eye that
+delectable and irresistible confusion
+in which his brain is swimming. His
+love was seen. How could it be otherwise?
+That instantaneous, that complete
+delight which he felt when she
+joined him in his rambles, or came to
+sit with him in the library, could not
+be disguised nor mistaken. He was
+a scholar, a reader and lover of books,
+but let the book be what it might
+which he held in his hand, it was abandoned,
+closed, pitched aside, the moment
+she entered. There was no
+stolen glance at the page left still
+open; nor was the place kept marked
+by the tenacious finger and thumb.
+If her voice were heard on the terrace,
+or in the garden&mdash;if her laugh&mdash;so
+light, merry, and musical, reached his
+ear&mdash;there was no question or debate
+whether he should go or stay, but
+down the stairs, or through the avenues
+of the garden&mdash;he sprung&mdash;he
+ran;&mdash;only a little before he came in
+sight he would assume something of
+the gravity becoming in a senior
+wrangler, or try to look as if he came
+there by chance. His love was seen,
+and not with indifference. But what
+could the damsel do? How presume
+to know of an attachment until in due
+form certified thereof? If a youth
+will adhere to an obstinate silence,
+what, we repeat, can a damsel do but
+leave him to his fate, and listen to
+some other, who, if he loves less, at least
+knows how to avow his love?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;">
+<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>We left the two friends proceeding
+towards the mansion; we enter before
+them, and introduce our readers
+into the drawing-room. Here, in a
+spacious and shaded apartment, made
+cool, as well by the massive walls of
+the noble edifice as by the open and
+protected windows, whose broad balcony
+was blooming with the most
+beautiful and fragrant of plants, sat
+Emily Sherwood. She was not, however,
+alone. At the same round table,
+which was covered with vases of
+flowers, and with books as gay as
+flowers, was seated another young
+lady, Miss Julia Danvers, a friend
+who had arrived in the course of the
+morning on a visit to Lipscombe Park.
+The young ladies seemed to have been
+in deep consultation.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can never thank you sufficiently,&quot;
+said Miss Danvers, &quot;for your
+kindness in this affair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Indeed but you can very soon
+thank me much more than sufficiently,&quot;
+replied her more lively companion,
+&quot;for there are few things in the world
+I dislike so much as thanks. And yet
+there is one cause of thankfulness you
+have, and know not of. Here have I
+listened to your troubles, as you call
+them, for more than two hours, and
+never once told you any of my own.
+Troubles! you are, in my estimation,
+a very happy, enviable girl.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you think it then so great a
+happiness to be obliged to take refuge
+from an absurd selfish stepmother, in
+order to get by stealth one's own lawful
+way?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One's own way is always lawful,
+my dear. No tautology. But you
+<i>have</i> it&mdash;while I&quot;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, what is the matter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Julia, dear&mdash;now do not laugh&mdash;I
+have a lover that <i>won't speak</i>. I have
+another, or one who calls himself such,
+who has spoken, or whose wealth, I
+fear, has spoken, to some purpose&mdash;to
+my father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you would open the mouth
+of the dumb, and stop the mouth
+of the foolish?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Exactly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who are they? And first, to proceed
+by due climax, who is he whose
+mouth is to be closed?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A baronet of these parts, Sir
+Frederic Beaumantle. A vain, vain,
+vain man. It would be a waste of
+good words to spend another epithet
+upon him, for he is all vanity. All
+his virtues, all his vices, all his actions,
+good, bad, and indifferent, are nothing
+but vanity. He praises you from vanity,
+abuses you from vanity, loves and
+hates you from vanity. He is vain of
+his person, of his wealth, of his birth,
+of his title, vain of all he has, and all
+he has not. He sets so great a value
+on his innumerable and superlative
+good qualities, that he really has not
+been able (until he met with your
+humble servant) to find any individual
+of our sex on whom he could, conscientiously,
+bestow so great a treasure
+as his own right hand must inevitably
+give away. This has been the only
+reason&mdash;he tells me so himself&mdash;why
+he has remained so long unmarried;
+for he has rounded the arch, and is
+going down the bridge. To take his
+own account of this delicate matter, he
+is fluctuating, with an uneasy motion,
+to and fro, between forty and forty-five.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Old enough, I doubt not, to be
+your father. How can he venture on
+such a frolicsome young thing as
+you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I asked him that question myself
+one day; and he told me, with a
+most complacent smile, that I should
+be the perfect compendium of matrimony&mdash;he
+should have wife and child
+in one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The old coxcomb! And yet
+there was a sort of providence in
+that.&mdash;Now, who is he whose mouth
+is to be opened?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh&mdash;he!--can't you guess?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your cousin Reginald, as you
+used to call him&mdash;though cousin
+I believe he is none&mdash;this learned
+wrangler?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The same. Trust me, he loves
+me to the bottom of his heart; but
+because his little cousin is a great
+heiress, he thinks it fit to be very
+proud, and gives me over&mdash;many
+thanks to him&mdash;to this rich baronet.
+But here he comes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke, Darcy and Griffith
+entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We have been canvassing,&quot; said
+Emily, after the usual forms of introduction
+had been gone through, &quot;the
+merits of our friend, Sir Frederic
+Beaumantle. By the way, Reginald,
+he dines here to-day, and so will another
+gentleman, whom I shall be
+happy to introduce to you, Captain
+Garland, an esteemed friend of mine
+and Miss Danvers'.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sir Frederic seems,&quot; said Griffith,
+by way merely of taking part
+in the conversation, &quot;at all events, a
+very good-natured man. I have seen
+him but once, and he has already
+promised to use all his influence in my
+behalf, in whatever profession I may
+embark. If medicine, I am to have
+half-a-dozen dowagers, always ailing
+and never ill, put under my charge
+the moment I can add M.D. to my
+name; not to speak of certain mysterious
+hints of an introduction at
+court, and an appointment of physician
+extraordinary to Her Majesty.
+I suppose I may depend upon Sir
+Frederic's promises?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, certainly,&quot; said Miss Sherwood,
+&quot;you may depend upon Sir
+Frederic Beaumantle's promises; they
+will never fail; they are inexhaustible.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The fool!&quot; said Darcy with impatience,
+&quot;I could forgive him any
+thing but that ridiculous ostentation
+he has of patronizing men, who, but
+they have more politeness than himself,
+would throw back his promises
+with open derision.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Reginald,&quot; said Miss Sherwood,
+&quot;is always forgiving Sir Frederic
+every fault but one. But then that
+one fault changes every day. Last
+time he would pardon him every
+thing except the fulsome eulogy he is
+in the habit of bestowing upon his
+friends, even to their faces. You
+must know, Mr Griffith, that Sir
+Frederic is a most liberal chapman in
+this commodity of praise: he will
+give any man a bushel-full of compliments
+who will send him back the
+measure only half filled. Nay, if
+there are but a few cherries clinging
+to the wicker-work he is not wholly
+dissatisfied.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What he gives he knows is trash,&quot;
+said Darcy; &quot;what he receives he
+always flatters himself to be true coin.
+But indeed Sir Frederic is somewhat
+more just in his dealings than you,
+perhaps, imagine. If he bestows excessive
+laudation on a friend in one
+company, he takes it all back again
+in the very next he enters.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And still his amiability shines
+through all; for he abuses the absent
+friend only to gratify the self-love
+of those who are present.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The door opened as Miss Sherwood
+gave this <i>coup-de-grace</i> to the character
+of the baronet, and Sir Frederic
+Beaumantle was announced,
+and immediately afterwards, Captain
+Garland.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sherwood, somewhat to the
+surprise of Darcy, who was not aware
+that any such intimacy subsisted between
+them, received Captain Garland
+with all the cordiality of an old
+acquaintance. On the other hand she
+introduced the baronet to Miss Danvers
+with that slightly emphatic manner
+which intimates that the parties
+may entertain a &quot;high consideration&quot;
+for each other.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are too good a herald, Sir
+Frederic,&quot; she said, &quot;not to know
+the Danverses of Dorsetshire.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall be proud,&quot; replied the
+baronet, &quot;to make the acquaintance
+of Miss Danvers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She has come to my poor castle,&quot;
+continued Miss Sherwood, &quot;like the
+distressed princess in the Faery Queen,
+and I must look out for some red-cross
+knight to be her champion,
+and redress her wrongs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is not the first time,&quot; said the
+lady thus introduced, &quot;that I have
+heard of the name of Sir Frederic
+Beaumantle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I dare say not, I dare say not,&quot;
+answered the gratified baronet.
+&quot;Mine, I may venture to say, is an
+historic name. Did you ever peruse,
+Miss Danvers, a work entitled 'The
+History of the County of Huntingdon?'
+You would find in it many
+curious particulars relating to the
+Beaumantles, and one anecdote especially,
+drawn, I may say, from the archives
+of our family, which throws
+a new light upon the reign and character
+of Charles II. It is a very
+able performance is this 'History of
+the County of Huntingdon;' it is written
+by a modest and ingenious person
+of my acquaintance, and I felt great
+pleasure in lending him my poor assistance
+in the compilation of it. My
+name is mentioned in the preface.
+Perhaps,&quot; he added with a significant
+smile, &quot;it might have claimed a still
+more conspicuous place; but I hold
+it more becoming in persons of rank
+to be the patrons than the competitors
+of men of letters.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should think,&quot; said Miss Danvers
+very quietly, &quot;it were the more
+prudent plan for them to adopt. But
+what is this anecdote you allude
+to?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;An ancestor of mine&mdash;But I am
+afraid,&quot; said the baronet, casting a deprecatory
+look at Miss Sherwood,
+&quot;that some here have read it, or
+heard me repeat it before.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, pray proceed,&quot; said the
+young lady appealed to.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;An ancestor of mine,&quot; resumed
+the baronet, &quot;on being presented at
+the Court of Charles II., soon after
+the Restoration, attracted the attention
+of that merry monarch and his
+witty courtiers, by the antique fashion
+of his cloak. 'Beaumantle! Beaumantle!'
+said the king, 'who gave
+thee that name?' My ancestor, who
+was a grave man, and well brought up,
+answered, 'Sire, my godfathers
+and my godmothers at my baptism.'
+'Well responded!' said the king with
+a smile; 'and they gave thee thy
+raiment also, as it seems.' These last
+words were added in a lower voice,
+and did not reach the ear of my ancestor,
+but they were reported to him
+immediately afterwards, and have been
+treasured up in our family ever since.
+I thought it my duty to make it known
+to the world as an historical fact,
+strikingly illustrative of a very important
+period in our annals.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, your name,&quot; said Miss
+Danvers, &quot;appears to be historical in
+more senses than one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope soon&mdash;but I would not wish
+this to go beyond the present company,&quot;
+said Sir Frederic, and he looked
+round the circle with a countenance
+of the most imposing solemnity&mdash;&quot;I
+hope soon that you will hear of it
+being elevated to the peerage&mdash;that
+is, when Sir Robert Peel comes into
+power.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know Sir Robert, then?&quot;
+said Griffith, with perfect simplicity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Public men,&quot; said Sir Frederic,
+&quot;are sufficiently introduced by public
+report. Besides, Mr Griffith&mdash;we
+baronets!--we constitute a sort of
+brotherhood. I have employed all my
+influence in the county, and I may
+safely say it is not little, to raise the
+character and estimation of Sir Robert,
+and I have no doubt that he will
+gladly testify his acknowledgment of
+my services by this trifling return.
+And as it is well known that my
+estates&quot;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>But the baronet was interrupted in
+mid career by the announcement of
+dinner.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sherwood took the arm of
+Captain Garland, and directed Sir
+Frederic to lead down Miss Danvers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will excuse my father,&quot; she
+said, as they descended, &quot;for not
+meeting us in the drawing-room. His
+gout makes him a lame pedestrian.
+We shall find him already seated at
+the table.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At the dinner-table the same
+arrangement was preserved. Miss
+Sherwood had placed Captain Garland
+by her side, and conversed almost
+exclusively with him; while the Baronet
+was kept in play by the sedulous
+flattery of Miss Danvers.</p>
+
+<p>After a few days, it became evident
+to all the household at Lipscombe
+Park that a new claimant for the hand
+of Miss Sherwood had appeared in
+the person of Captain Garland. The
+captain did not reside in the house,
+but, on the pretence of a very strong
+passion for trout-fishing, he had taken
+up his quarters in apartments within
+a most convenient distance of the
+scene of operations. It was not forgotten
+that, at the very time he made
+his appearance, Miss Danvers also
+arrived at the Park, and between these
+parties there was suspected to be some
+secret understanding. It seemed as
+if our military suitor had resolved to
+assail the fort from within as well
+as from without, and therefore had
+brought down with him this fair ally.
+Nothing better than such a fair ally.
+She could not only chant his praises
+when absent, (and there is much in
+that,) but she could so man&oelig;uvre as
+to procure for the captain many a
+<i>t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te</i>, which otherwise would not
+fall to his share. Especially, (and
+this task she appeared to accomplish
+most adroitly,) she could engage to
+herself the attentions of his professed
+and redoubtable rival, Sir Frederic
+Beaumantle. In fifty ways she could
+assist in betraying the citadel from
+within, whilst he stood storming at
+the gates, in open and most magnanimous
+warfare. Darcy was not slower
+than others to suspect the stratagem,
+and he thought he saw symptoms of
+its success. His friend Griffith had
+now left him; he had no dispassionate
+observer to consult, and his own desponding
+passion led him to conclude
+whatever was most unfavourable to
+himself. Certainly there was a confidential
+manner between Miss Sherwood
+and these close allies, which
+seemed to justify the suspicion alluded
+to. More than once, when he had
+joined Miss Sherwood and the captain,
+the unpleasant discovery had been
+forced upon him, by the sudden pause
+in their conversation, that he was the
+<i>one too many</i>.</p>
+
+<p>But jealousy? Oh, no! What had
+<i>he</i> to do with jealousy? For his part,
+he was quite delighted with this new
+attachment&mdash;quite delighted; it would
+set at rest for ever the painful controversy
+so often agitated in his own
+breast. Nevertheless, it must be confessed
+that he felt the rivalry of Captain
+Garland in a very different manner
+from that of Sir Frederic Beaumantle.
+The baronet, by virtue of
+his wealth alone, would obtain success;
+and he felt a sort of bitter satisfaction
+in yielding Emily to her opulent suitor.
+She might marry, but she could
+not love him; she might be thinking
+of another, perhaps of her cousin
+Reginald, even while she gave her
+hand to him at the altar. But if the
+gallant captain, whose handsome person,
+and frank and gentlemanly manners,
+formed his chief recommendation,
+were to be the happy man, then
+must her affections have been won,
+and Emily was lost to him utterly.
+And then&mdash;with the usual logic of the
+passions, and forgetting the part of
+silence and disguise that he had played&mdash;he
+taxed her with levity and unkindness
+in so soon preferring the
+captain to himself. That Emily should
+so soon have linked herself with a
+comparative stranger! It was not
+what he should have expected. &quot;At
+all events,&quot; he would thus conclude
+his soliloquy, &quot;I am henceforward
+free&mdash;free from her bondage and from
+all internal struggle. Yes! I am
+free!&quot; he exclaimed, as he paced his
+room triumphantly. The light voice
+of Emily was heard calling on him to
+accompany her in a walk. He started,
+he flew. His freedom, we suppose,
+gave him wings, for he was at her side
+in a moment.</p>
+
+<p>Reginald had intended, on the first
+opportunity, to rally his cousin upon
+her sudden attachment to the captain,
+but his tongue absolutely refused the
+office. He could not utter a word of
+banter on the subject. His heart was
+too full.</p>
+
+<p>On this occasion, as they returned
+from their walk through the park, there
+happened one of those incidents which
+have so often, at least in novels and
+story-books, brought about the happiness
+of lovers, but which in the present
+instance served only to bring into
+play the most painful feelings of both
+parties.</p>
+
+<p>A prize-fight had taken place in the
+neighbourhood, and one of the numerous
+visitors of that truly noble exhibition,
+who, in order to do honour to
+the day, had deprived Smithfield market
+of the light of his countenance,
+was returning across the park from
+the scene of combat, accompanied by
+his bull-dog. The dog, who doubtless
+knew that his master was a trespasser,
+and considered it the better
+policy to assume at once the offensive,
+flew at the party whom he saw
+approaching. Emily was a little in
+advance. Darcy rushed forward to
+plant himself between her and this
+ferocious assailant. He had no weapon
+of defence of any kind, and, to
+say truth, he had at that moment no
+idea of defending himself, or any distinct
+notion whatever of combating
+his antagonist. The only reflection
+that occurred to his mind was, that if
+the animal satiated its fury upon him,
+his companion would be safe. A strong
+leg and a stout boot might have done
+something; Darcy, stooping down,
+put the fleshy part of his own arm
+fairly into the bulldog's jaws; assured
+that, at all events, it could not
+bite two persons at the same time, and
+that, if its teeth were buried in his
+own arm, they could not be engaged
+in lacerating Emily Sherwood. It is
+the well-known nature of the bull-dog
+to fasten where it once bites, and
+the brute pinned Darcy to the ground,
+until its owner, arriving on the spot,
+extricated him from his very painful
+position.</p>
+
+<p>In this encounter, our senior wrangler
+probably showed himself very
+unskilful and deficient in the combat
+with wild beasts, but no conduct
+could have displayed a more engrossing
+anxiety for the safety of his fair
+companion. Most men would have
+been willing to reap advantage from
+the grateful sentiment which such a
+conduct must inspire; Darcy, on the
+contrary, seemed to have no other
+wish than to disclaim all title to such
+a sentiment. He would not endure
+that the incident should be spoken of
+with the least gravity or seriousness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I pray you,&quot; said he, &quot;do not
+mention this silly business again.
+What I did, every living man who
+had found himself by your side would
+have done, and most men in a far
+more dexterous manner. And, indeed,
+if instead of yourself, the merest
+stranger&mdash;the poorest creature in the
+parish, man, woman, or child, had
+been in your predicament, I think I
+should have done the same.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know you would, Reginald. I
+believe,&quot; said Emily, &quot;that if the
+merest idiot had been threatened with
+the danger that threatened me, you
+would have interposed, and received
+the attack yourself. And it is because
+I believe this of you, Reginald&quot;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Something apparently impeded her
+utterance, for the sentence was left
+unfinished.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For this wound,&quot; resumed Darcy,
+after a pause, and observing that
+Emily's eye was resting on his arm,
+&quot;it is really nothing more than a just
+penalty for my own want of address
+in this notable combat. You should
+have had the captain with you,&quot; he
+added; &quot;he would have defended
+you quite as zealously, and with ten
+times the skill.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Emily made no answer; and they
+walked on in silence till they entered
+the Hall. Reginald felt that he had
+been ungracious; but he knew not
+how to retrieve his position. Just before
+they parted, Emily resuming, in
+some measure, her natural and cheerful
+manner, turned to her companion,
+and said&mdash;&quot;Years ago, when you were
+cousin Reginald, and condescended to
+be my playfellow, the greatest services
+you rendered were to throw me
+occasionally out of the swing, or
+frighten me till I screamed by putting
+my pony into a most unmerciful trot;
+but you were always so kind in the
+<i>making up</i>, that I liked you the better
+afterwards. Now, when you preserve
+me, at your own hazard, from a very
+serious injury&mdash;you do it in so surly a
+manner&mdash;I wish the dog had bitten
+me!&quot; And with this she left him and
+tripped up stairs.</p>
+
+<p>If Darcy could have followed her
+into her own room, he would have
+seen her throw herself into an armchair,
+and burst into a flood of tears.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;">
+<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Miss Danvers, it has been said,
+(from whatever motive her conduct
+proceeded, whether from any interest
+of her own, or merely a desire to serve
+the interest of her friend, Captain
+Garland,) showed a disposition to engross
+the attentions of Sir Frederic
+Beaumantle as often as he made his
+appearance at Lipscombe Park. Now,
+as that lady was undoubtedly of good
+family, and possessed of considerable
+fortune, the baronet was not a little
+flattered by the interest which a person
+who had these excellent qualifications
+for a judge, manifestly took in
+his conversation. In an equal degree
+was his dignity offended at the preference
+shown by Miss Sherwood for
+Captain Garland, a man, as he said, but
+of yesterday, and not in any one point
+of view to be put in comparison with
+himself. He almost resolved to
+punish her levity by withdrawing his
+suit. The graver manner, and somewhat
+more mature age of Miss Danvers
+were also qualities which he was
+obliged to confess were somewhat in
+her favour.</p>
+
+<p>The result of all this was, that one
+fine morning Sir Frederic Beaumantle
+might have been seen walking to
+and fro in his own park, with a
+troubled step, bearing in his hand a
+letter&mdash;most elaborately penned&mdash;carefully
+written out&mdash;sealed&mdash;but not directed.
+It was an explicit declaration
+of his love, a solemn offer of his hand;
+it was only not quite determined to
+whom it should be sent. As the letter
+contained very little that referred
+to the lady, and consisted almost entirely
+of an account, not at all disparaging,
+of himself and his own good
+qualities, it was easy for him to proceed
+thus far upon his delicate negotiation,
+although the main question&mdash;to
+whom the letter was to be addressed&mdash;was
+not yet decided. This letter
+had indeed been a <i>labour of love</i>. It
+was as little written for Miss Sherwood
+as for Miss Danvers. It was
+composed for the occasion whenever
+that might arise; and for these ten
+years past it had been lying in his
+desk, receiving from time to time
+fresh touches and emendations. The
+necessity of making use of this epistle,
+which had now attained a state of
+painful perfection, we venture to say
+had some share in impelling him into
+matrimony. To some one it must
+be sent, or how could it appear to any
+advantage in those &quot;Memoirs of Sir
+Frederic Beaumantle,&quot; which, some
+future day, were to console the world
+for his decease, and the prospect of
+which (for he saw them already in
+beautiful hot-pressed quarto) almost
+consoled himself for the necessity of
+dying? The <i>intended</i> love-letter!--this
+would have an air of ridicule,
+while the real declaration of Sir Frederic
+Beaumantle, which would not
+only adorn the Memoirs above mentioned,
+but would ultimately form a
+part of the &quot;History of the County of
+Huntingdon.&quot; We hope ourselves, by
+the way, to have the honour of editing
+those Memoirs, should we be so
+unfortunate as to survive Sir Frederic.</p>
+
+<p>But we must leave our baronet with
+his letter in his hand, gazing profoundly
+and anxiously on the blank
+left for the superscription, and must
+follow the perplexities of Reginald
+Darcy.</p>
+
+<p>That good understanding which
+apparently existed between Emily
+and Captain Garland seemed rather
+to increase than to diminish after the
+little adventure we recorded in the
+last chapter. It appeared that Miss
+Sherwood had taken Darcy at his
+word, and resolved not to think any
+the more kindly of him for his conduct
+on that occasion. The captain was
+plainly in the ascendant. It even
+appeared, from certain arrangements
+that were in stealthy preparation, that
+the happiness of the gallant lover
+would not long be delayed. Messages
+of a very suspicious purport had passed
+between the Park and the vicarage.
+The clerk of the parish had been seen
+several times at Lipscombe. There
+was something in the wind, as the
+sagacious housekeeper observed; surely
+her young <i>missus</i> was not going to
+be married on the sly to the captain!
+The same thought, however, occurred
+to Darcy. Was it to escape the suit
+of Sir Frederic Beaumantle, which had
+been in some measure countenanced
+by her father, that she had recourse
+to this stratagem?&mdash;hardly worthy of
+her, and quite unnecessary, as she
+possessed sufficient influence with her
+father to obtain his consent to any
+proposal she herself was likely to approve.
+Had not the state of his own
+feelings made him too interested a
+party to act as counsellor or mediator,
+he would at once have questioned
+Emily on the subject. As it was, his
+lips were closed. She herself, too,
+seemed resolved to make no communication
+to him. The captain, a man
+of frank and open nature, was far
+more disposed to reveal his secret: he
+was once on the point of speaking to
+Darcy about his &quot;approaching marriage;&quot;
+but Emily, laying her finger
+on her lip, suddenly imposed silence
+on him.</p>
+
+<p>One morning, as Darcy entered
+the breakfast-room, it was evident
+that something unusual was about to
+take place. The carriage, at this
+early hour, was drawn up to the door,
+and the two young ladies, both dressed
+in bridal white, were stepping into
+it. Before it drove off Miss Sherwood
+beckoned to Darcy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have not invited you,&quot; she said,
+&quot;to the ceremony, because Captain
+Garland has wished it to be as private
+as possible. But we shall expect your
+company at breakfast, for which you
+must even have the patience to wait
+till we return.&quot; Without giving any
+opportunity for reply, she drew up
+the glass, and the carriage rolled off.</p>
+
+<p>However Darcy might have hitherto
+borne himself up by a gloomy sense
+of duty, by pride, and a bitter&mdash;oh,
+what bitter resignation!--when the
+blow came, it utterly prostrated him.
+&quot;She is gone!--lost!--Fool that I
+have been!--What was this man more
+than I?&quot; Stung with such reflections
+as these, which were uttered in such
+broken sentences, he rapidly retreated
+to the library, where he knew he should
+be undisturbed. He threw himself
+into a chair, and planting his elbows
+on the table, pressed his doubled fists,
+with convulsive agony, to his brows.
+All his fortitude had forsaken him:
+he wept outright.</p>
+
+<p>From this posture he was at length
+aroused by a gentle pressure on his
+shoulder, and a voice calling him by
+his name. He raised his head: it
+was Emily Sherwood, enquiring of
+him, quite calmly, why he was not at
+the breakfast-table. There she stood,
+radiant with beauty, and in all her
+bridal attire, except that she had
+thrown of her bonnet, and her beautiful
+hair was allowed to be free and
+unconfined. Her hand was still upon
+his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are married, Emily,&quot; he said,
+as well as that horrible stifling sensation
+in the breast would let him speak;
+&quot;you are married, and I must be for
+evermore a banished man. I leave
+you, Emily, and this roof, for ever.
+I pronounce my own sentence of exile,
+for I <i>love</i> you, Emily!--and ever
+shall&mdash;passionately&mdash;tenderly&mdash;love
+you. Surely I may say this now&mdash;now
+that it is a mere cry of anguish,
+and a misery exclusively my own.
+Never, never&mdash;I feel that this is no
+idle raving&mdash;shall I love another&mdash;never
+will this affection leave me&mdash;I
+shall never have a home&mdash;never care
+for another&mdash;or myself&mdash;I am alone&mdash;a
+wanderer&mdash;miserable. Farewell!
+I go&mdash;I know not exactly where&mdash;but
+I leave this place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was preparing to quit the
+room, when Emily, placing herself
+before him, prevented him. &quot;And
+why,&quot; said she, &quot;if you honoured me
+with this affection, why was I not to
+know of it till now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can the heiress of Lipscombe
+Park ask that question?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ungenerous! unjust!&quot; said Emily.
+&quot;Tell me, if one who can himself feel
+and act nobly, denies to another the
+capability of a like disinterested
+conduct&mdash;denies it rashly, pertinaciously,
+without cause given for such a
+judgment&mdash;is he not ungenerous and unjust?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To whom have I acted thus? To
+whom have I been ungenerous or unjust?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To me, Reginald&mdash;to me! I am
+wealthy, and for this reason alone you
+have denied to me, it seems, the possession
+of every worthy sentiment.
+She has gold, you have said, let her
+gold content her, and you withheld
+your love. She will make much boast,
+and create a burdensome obligation,
+if she bestows her superfluous wealth
+upon another: you resolved not to
+give her the opportunity, and you
+withheld your love. She has gold&mdash;she
+has no heart&mdash;no old affections
+that have grown from childhood&mdash;no
+estimate of character: she has wealth&mdash;let
+her gratify its vanity and its
+caprice; and so you withheld your
+love. Yes, she has gold&mdash;let her
+have more of it&mdash;let her wed with
+gold&mdash;with any gilded fool&mdash;she has
+no need of love! This is what you
+have thought, what your conduct has
+implied, and it was ungenerous and
+unjust.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, by heaven! I never thought
+unworthily of you,&quot; exclaimed Darcy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Had you been the wealthy cousin,
+Reginald, of wealth so ample, that an
+addition to it could scarcely bring an
+additional pleasure, would you have
+left your old friend Emily to look out
+for some opulent alliance?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, no! no!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then, why should I?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I may have erred,&quot; said Darcy.
+&quot;I may have thought too meanly of
+myself, or nourished a misplaced
+pride, but I never had a disparaging
+thought of you. It seemed that I was
+right&mdash;that I was fulfilling a severe&mdash;oh,
+how severe a duty! Even now I
+know not that I was wrong&mdash;I know
+only that I am miserable. But,&quot;
+added he in a calmer voice, &quot;I, at all
+events, am the only sufferer. You, at
+least, are happy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not, I think, if marriage is to
+make me so. I am not married, Reginald,&quot;
+she said, amidst a confusion of
+smiles and blushes. &quot;Captain Garland
+was married this morning to
+Miss Julia Danvers, to whom he has
+been long engaged, but a silly selfish
+stepmother&quot;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not married!&quot; cried Darcy, interrupting
+all further explanation.&mdash;&quot;Not
+married! Then you are free&mdash;then
+you are&quot;&mdash;&mdash; But the old
+train of thought rushed back upon his
+mind&mdash;the old objections were as
+strong as ever&mdash;Miss Sherwood was
+still the daughter of his guardian, and
+the heiress of Lipscombe Park. Instead
+of completing the sentence, he
+paused, and muttered something about
+&quot;her father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Emily saw the cloud that had come
+over him. Dropping playfully, and
+most gracefully, upon one knee, she
+took his hand, and looking up archly
+in his face, said, &quot;You love me, coz&mdash;you
+have said it. Coz, will you
+marry me?&mdash;for I love you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Generous, generous girl!&quot; and
+he clasped her to his bosom.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let us go in,&quot; said Emily, in a
+quite altered and tremulous voice,
+&quot;let us join them in the other room.&quot;
+And as she put her arm in his, the
+little pressure said distinctly and triumphantly&mdash;&quot;He
+is mine!--he is mine!&quot;</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+
+<p>We must take a parting glance into
+old Mr Sherwood's room. He is
+seated in his gouty chair; his daughter
+stands by his side. Apparently
+Emily's reasonings have almost prevailed;
+she has almost persuaded the
+old gentleman that Darcy is the very
+son-in-law whom, above all others,
+he ought to desire. For how could
+Emily leave her dear father, and how
+could he domicile himself with any
+other husband she could choose, half
+so well as with his own ward, and his
+old favourite, Reginald?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But Sir Frederic Beaumantle,&quot;
+the old gentleman replied, &quot;what is
+to be said to him? and what a fine
+property he has!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As he was speaking, the door opened,
+and the party from the breakfast
+table, consisting of Captain Garland,
+and his bride, and Reginald, entered
+the room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, as for Sir Frederic Beaumantle,&quot;
+said she who was formerly
+Miss Danvers, and now Mrs Garland,
+&quot;I claim him as mine.&quot; And forthwith
+she displayed the famous declaration
+of the baronet&mdash;addressed to
+herself!</p>
+
+<p>Their mirth had scarcely subsided,
+when the writer of the letter himself
+made his appearance. He had called
+early, for he had concluded, after
+much deliberation, that it was not consistent
+with the ardour and impetuosity
+of love, to wait till the formal
+hour of visiting, in order to receive
+the answer of Miss Danvers.</p>
+
+<p>That answer the lady at once gave
+by presenting Captain Garland to him
+in the character of her husband. At
+the same time, she returned his epistle,
+and, explaining that circumstances
+had compelled the captain and herself
+to marry in a private and secret
+manner, apologized for the mistake into
+which the concealment of their engagement
+had led him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A mistake indeed&mdash;a mistake altogether!&quot;
+exclaimed the baronet,
+catching at a straw as he fell&mdash;&quot;a
+mistake into which this absurd fashion
+of envelopes has led us. The letter
+was never intended, madam, to be enclosed
+to you. It was designed for the hands&quot;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>And he turned to Miss Sherwood,
+who, on her part, took the arm of Reginald
+with a significance of manner
+which proved to him that, for the present
+at least, his declaration of love
+might return into his own desk, there
+to receive still further emendations.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No wonder, Sir Frederic,&quot; said
+Mr Sherwood, compassionating the
+baronet's situation&mdash;&quot;no wonder your
+proposal is not wanted. These young
+ladies have taken their affairs into
+their own hands. It is <i>Leap-Year</i>.
+One of them, at least, (looking to his
+daughter,) has made good use of its
+privilege. The initiative, Sir Frederic,
+is taken from us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The baronet had nothing left but
+to make his politest bow and retire.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Reginald, my dear boy,&quot; continued
+the old gentleman, &quot;give me
+your hand. Emily is right. I don't
+know how I should part with her. I
+will only make this bargain with you,
+Reginald&mdash;that you marry us both.
+You must not turn me out of doors.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Reginald returned the pressure of
+his hand, but he could say nothing.
+Mr Sherwood, however, saw his answer
+in eyes that were filling involuntarily
+with tears.</p>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+
+<a name="bw329s5" id="bw329s5"></a><h2>THE BATTLE OF THE BLOCKS.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE PAVING QUESTION.</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>The subject of greatest metropolitan
+interest which has occurred for
+many years, is the introduction of
+wood paving. As the main battle
+has been fought in London, and nothing
+but a confused report of the
+great object in dispute may have penetrated
+beyond the sound of Bow
+bells, we think it will not be amiss to
+put on record, in the imperishable
+brass and marble of our pages, an
+account of the mighty struggle&mdash;of
+the doughty champions who couched
+the lance and drew the sword in the
+opposing ranks&mdash;and, finally, to what
+side victory seems to incline on this
+beautiful 1st of May in the year
+1843.</p>
+
+<p>Come, then, to our aid, oh ye heavenly
+Muses! who enabled Homer to
+sing in such persuasive words the fates
+of Troy and of its wooden horse; for
+surely a subject which is so deeply
+connected both with wood and horses,
+is not beneath your notice; but perhaps,
+as poetry is gone out of fashion
+at the present time, you will depute
+one of your humbler sisters, rejoicing
+in the name of Prose, to give us a few
+hints in the composition of our great
+history. The name of the first pavier,
+we fear, is unknown, unless we
+could identify him with Triptolemus,
+who was a great improver of Rhodes;
+but it is the fate of all the greatest
+benefactors of their kind to be neglected,
+and in time forgotten. The first
+regularly defined paths were probably
+footways&mdash;the first carriages broad-wheeled.
+No record remains of what
+materials were used for filling up the
+ruts; so it is likely, in those simple
+times when enclosure acts were unknown,
+that the cart was seldom taken
+in the same track. As houses were
+built, and something in the shape of
+streets began to be established, the
+access to them must have been more
+attended to. A mere smoothing of the
+inequalities of the surface over which
+the oxen had to be driven, that brought
+the grain home on the enormous
+<i>plaustra</i> of the husbandman, was the
+first idea of a street, whose very name
+is derived from <i>stratum</i>, levelled.
+As experience advanced, steps would
+be taken to prevent the softness of the
+road from interrupting the draught.
+A narrow rim of stone, just wide
+enough to sustain the wheel, would,
+in all probability, be the next improvement;
+and only when the gentle operations
+of the farm were exchanged
+for war, and the charger had to be
+hurried to the fight, with all the equipments
+necessary for an army, great
+roads were laid open, and covered
+with hard materials to sustain the
+wear and tear of men and animals.
+Roads were found to be no less necessary
+to retain a conquest than to
+make it; and the first true proof of
+the greatness of Rome was found in
+the long lines of military ways, by
+which she maintained her hold upon
+the provinces. You may depend on
+it, that no expense was spared in
+keeping the glorious street that led
+up her Triumphs to the Capitol in excellent
+repair. All the nations of the
+<i>Orbis Antiquus</i> ought to have trembled
+when they saw the beginning of
+the Appian road. It led to Britain
+and Persia, to Carthage and the White
+Sea. The Britons, however, in ancient
+days, seem to have been about the
+stupidest and least enterprising of all
+the savages hitherto discovered. After
+an intercourse of four hundred years
+with the most polished people in the
+world, they continued so miserably
+benighted, that they had not even
+acquired masonic knowledge enough
+to repair a wall. The rampart raised
+by their Roman protectors between
+them and the Picts and Scots, became
+in some places dilapidated. The unfortunate
+natives had no idea how to
+mend the breach, and had to send
+once more for their auxiliaries. If
+such their state in regard to masonry,
+we cannot suppose that their skill in
+road-making was very great; and yet
+we are told that, even on C&aelig;sar's invasion,
+the Britons careered about in
+war-chariots, which implies both good
+roads and some mechanical skill; but
+we think it a little too much in historians
+to ask us to believe BOTH these
+views of the condition of our predecessors
+in the tight little island; for it
+is quite clear that a people who had
+arrived at the art of coach-making,
+could not be so very ignorant as not
+to know how to build a wall. If it
+were not for the letters of Cicero, we
+should not believe a syllable about the
+war-chariots that carried amazement
+into the hearts of the Romans, even
+in Kent or Surrey. But we here boldly
+declare, that if twenty Ciceros were
+to make their affidavits to the fact of
+a set of outer barbarians, like Galgacus
+and his troops, &quot;sweeping their
+fiery lines on rattling wheels&quot; up and
+down the Grampians&mdash;where, at a
+later period, a celebrated shepherd fed
+his flocks&mdash;we should not believe a
+word of their declaration. Tacitus,
+in the same manner, we should prosecute
+for perjury.</p>
+
+<p>The Saxons were a superior race,
+and when the eightsome-reel of the
+heptarchy became the <i>pas-seul</i> of
+the kingdom of England, we doubt
+not that Watling Street was kept in
+passable condition, and that Alfred,
+amidst his other noble institutions,
+invented a highway rate. The fortresses
+and vassal towns of the barons,
+after the Conquest, must have covered
+the country with tolerable cross-roads;
+and even the petty wars of those steel-clad
+marauders must have had a good
+effect in opening new communications.
+For how could Sir Reginald Front-de-B&oelig;uf,
+or Sir Hildebrand Bras-de-Fer,
+carry off the booty of their discomfited
+rival to their own granaries without
+loaded tumbrils, and roads fit to pass
+over?</p>
+
+<p>Nor would it have been wise in rich
+abbots and fat monks to leave their
+monasteries and abbeys inaccessible to
+pious pilgrims, who came to admire
+thigh-bones of martyred virgins and
+skulls of beatified saints, and paid
+very handsomely for the exhibition.
+Finally, trade began, and paviers
+flourished. The first persons of that
+illustrious profession appear, from the
+sound of the name, to have been
+French, unless we take the derivation
+of a cockney friend of ours, who maintains
+that the origin of the word is not
+the French <i>pav&eacute;</i>, but the indigenous
+English pathway. However that may
+be, we are pretty sure that paving was
+known as one of the fine arts in the
+reign of Queen Elizabeth; for, not to
+mention the anecdote of Raleigh and
+his cloak&mdash;which could only happen
+where puddles formed the exception
+and not the rule&mdash;we read of Essex's
+horse stumbling on a paving-stone in
+his mad ride to his house in the Strand.
+We also prove, from Shakspeare's
+line&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;The very stones would rise in mutiny&quot;&mdash;</p></div>
+
+<p>the fact of stones forming the main
+body of the streets in his time; for it
+is absurd to suppose that he was so
+rigid an observer of the unities as to
+pay the slightest respect to the state
+of paving in the time of Julius C&aelig;sar
+at Rome.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually London took the lead in
+improving its ways. It was no longer
+necessary for the fair and young to be
+carried through the mud upon costly
+pillions, on the backs of high-stepping
+Flanders mares. Beauty rolled over
+the stones in four-wheeled carriages,
+and it did not need more than half-a-dozen
+running footmen&mdash;the stoutest
+that could be found&mdash;to put their
+shoulders occasionally to the wheel,
+and help the eight black horses to
+drag the ponderous vehicle through
+the heavier parts of the road. Science
+came to the aid of beauty in these distressing
+circumstances. Springs were
+invented that yielded to every jolt;
+and, with the aid of cushions, rendered
+a visit to Highgate not much more
+fatiguing than we now find the journey
+to Edinburgh. Luxury went on&mdash;wealth
+flowed in&mdash;paviers were
+encouraged&mdash;coach-makers grew great
+men&mdash;and London, which our ancestors
+had left mud, was now stone.
+Year after year the granite quarries
+of Aberdeen poured themselves out
+on the streets of the great city, and a
+million and a half of people drove, and
+rode, and bustled, and bargained, and
+cheated, and throve, in the midst of a
+din that would have silenced the artillery
+of Trafalgar, and a mud which,
+if turned into bricks, would have built
+the tower of Babel. The citizens
+were now in possession of the &quot;fumum
+et opes strepitumque Rom&aelig;;&quot; but
+some of the more quietly disposed,
+though submitting patiently to the
+&quot;fumum,&quot; and by no means displeased
+with the &quot;opes,&quot; thought the &quot;strepitumque&quot;
+could be dispensed with, and
+plans of all kinds were proposed for
+obviating the noise and other inconveniences
+of granite blocks. Some
+proposed straw, rushes, sawdust; ingenuity
+was at a stand-still; and
+London appeared to be condemned to
+a perpetual atmosphere of smoke and
+sound. It is pleasant to look back on
+difficulties, when overcome&mdash;the best
+illustration of which is Columbus's
+egg; for, after convincing the sceptic,
+there can be no manner of doubt that
+he swallowed the yelk and white,
+leaving the shell to the pugnacious
+disputant. In the same way we look
+with a pleasing kind of pity on the
+quandaries of those whom we shall
+call&mdash;with no belief whatever in the
+pre-Adamite theory&mdash;the pre-Macadamites.</p>
+
+<p>A man of talent and enterprise, Mr
+Macadam, proposed a means of getting
+quit of one of the objections to the
+granite causeways. By breaking them
+up into small pieces, and spreading
+them in sufficient quantity, he proved
+that a continuous hard surface would
+be formed, by which the uneasy jerks
+from stone to stone would be avoided,
+and the expense, if not diminished, at
+all events not materially increased.
+When the proposition was fairly
+brought before the public, it met the
+fate of all innovations. Timid people&mdash;the
+very persons, by the by, who
+had been the loudest in their exclamations
+against the ancient causeways&mdash;became
+alarmed the moment
+they saw a chance of getting quit of
+them. As we never know the value
+of a thing till we have lost it, their
+attachment to stone and noise became
+more intense in proportion as the certainty
+of being deprived of them became
+greater. It was proved to the
+satisfaction of all rational men, if Mr
+Macadam's experiment succeeded, and
+a level surface were furnished to the
+streets, that, besides noise, many other
+disadvantages of the rougher mode of
+paving would be avoided. Among
+these the most prominent was slipperiness;
+and it was impossible to be denied,
+that at many seasons of the
+year, not only in frost, when every
+terrestrial pathway must be unsafe;
+but in the dry months of summer, the
+smooth surfaces of the blocks of granite,
+polished and rounded by so many
+wheels, were each like a convex mass
+of ice, and caused unnumbered falls to
+the less adroit of the equestrian portion
+of the king's subjects. One of
+the most zealous advocates of the
+improvement was the present Sir
+Peter Laurie, not then elevated to a
+seat among the Equites, but imbued
+probably with a foreknowledge of his
+knighthood, and therefore anxious for
+the safety of his horse. Sir Peter
+was determined, in all senses of the
+word, to <i>leave no stone unturned</i>; and
+a very small mind, when directed to
+one object with all its force, has more
+effect than a large mind unactuated
+by the same zeal&mdash;as a needle takes a
+sharper point than a sword. Thanks,
+therefore, are due, in a great measure,
+to the activity and eloquence of the
+worthy alderman for the introduction
+of Macadam's system of road-making
+into the city.</p>
+
+<p>Many evils were certainly got rid
+of by this alteration&mdash;the jolting motion
+from stone to stone&mdash;the slipperiness
+and unevenness of the road&mdash;and
+the chance, in case of an accident, of
+contesting the hardness of your skull
+with a mass of stone, which seemed as
+if it were made on purpose for knocking
+out people's brains. For some
+time contentment sat smiling over the
+city. But, as &quot;man never is, but always
+to be, blest,&quot; perfect happiness
+appeared not to be secured even by
+Macadam. Ruts began to be formed&mdash;rain
+fell, and mud was generated at
+a prodigious rate; repairs were needed,
+and the road for a while was rough
+and almost impassable. Then it was
+found out that the change had only
+led to a different <i>kind</i> of noise, instead
+of destroying it altogether; and
+the perpetual grinding of wheels, sawing
+their way through the loose stones
+at the top, or ploughing through the
+wet foundation, was hardly an improvement
+on the music arising from
+the jolts and jerks along the causeway.
+Men's minds got confused in
+the immensity of the uproar, and
+deafness became epidemic. In winter,
+the surface of Macadam formed
+a series of little lakes, resembling on
+a small scale those of Canada; in
+summer, it formed a Sahara of dust,
+prodigiously like the great desert.
+Acres of the finest alluvial clay
+floated past the shops in autumn; in
+spring, clouds of the finest sand were
+wafted among the goods, and penetrated
+to every drawer and wareroom.
+And high over all, throughout all the
+main highways of commerce&mdash;the
+Strand&mdash;Fleet Street&mdash;Oxford Street&mdash;Holborn&mdash;raged
+a storm of sound,
+that made conversation a matter of extreme
+difficulty without such stentorian
+an effort as no ordinary lungs could
+make. As the inhabitants of Abdera
+went about sighing from morning to
+night, &quot;Love! love!&quot; so the persecuted
+dwellers in the great thoroughfares
+wished incessantly for cleanliness!
+smoothness! silence!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Abra was present when they
+named her name,&quot; and, after a few
+gropings after truth&mdash;a few experiments
+that ended in nothing&mdash;a voice
+was heard in the city, that streets
+could be paved with wood. This was
+by no means a discovery in itself; for
+in many parts of the country ingenious
+individuals had laid down wooden
+floors upon their farm-yards; and, in
+other lands, it was a very common
+practice to use no other material for
+their public streets. But, in London,
+it was new; and all that was wanted,
+was science to use the material (at
+first sight so little calculated to bear
+the wear and tear of an enormous
+traffic) in the most eligible manner.
+The first who commenced an actual
+piece of paving was a Mr Skead&mdash;a
+perfectly simple and inartificial system,
+which it was soon seen was
+doomed to be superseded. His blocks
+were nothing but pieces of wood of a
+hexagon shape&mdash;with no cohesion,
+and no foundation&mdash;so that they trusted
+each to its own resources to resist
+the pressure of a wheel, or the blow
+of a horse's hoof; and, as might have
+been foreseen, they became very uneven
+after a short use, and had no
+recommendation except their cheapness
+and their exemption from noise.
+The fibre was vertical, and at first no
+grooves were introduced; they, of
+course, became rounded by wearing
+away at the edge, and as slippery as
+the ancient granite. The Metropolitan
+Company took warning from the
+defects of their predecessor, and
+adopted the patent of a scientific
+French gentleman of the name of
+De Lisle. The combination of the
+blocks is as elaborate as the structure
+of a ship of war, and yet perfectly
+easy, being founded on correct mechanical
+principles, and attaining the
+great objects required&mdash;viz. smoothness,
+durability, and quiet. The
+blocks, which are shaped at such an
+angle that they give the most perfect
+mutual support, are joined to each
+other by oaken dowels, and laid on a
+hard concrete foundation, presenting
+a level surface, over which the impact
+is so equally divided, that the
+whole mass resists the pressure on
+each particular block; and yet, from
+being formed in panels of about a
+yard square, they are laid down or
+lifted up with far greater ease than
+the causeway. Attention was immediately
+attracted to this invention,
+and all efforts have hitherto been vain
+to improve on it. Various projectors
+have appeared&mdash;some with concrete
+foundations, some with the blocks attached
+to each other, not by oak
+dowels, but by being alternately concave
+and convex at the side; but this
+system has the incurable defect of
+wearing off at the edges, where the
+fibre of the wood, of course, is weakest,
+and presents a succession of bald-pated
+surfaces, extremely slippery,
+and incapable of being permanently
+grooved. A specimen of this will be
+often referred to in the course of this
+account, being that which has attained
+such an unenviable degree of notoriety
+in the Poultry. Other inventors
+have shown ingenuity and
+perseverance; but the great representative
+of wooden paving we take
+to be the Metropolitan Company, and
+we proceed to a narrative of the attacks
+it has sustained, and the struggles
+it has gone through.</p>
+
+<p>So long ago as July 1839, the inventor
+explained to a large public
+meeting of noblemen and men of
+science, presided over by the Duke of
+Sussex, the principle of his discovery.
+It consisted in a division of the cube,
+or, as he called it, the stereotomy of
+the cube. After observing, that
+&quot;although the cube was the most regular
+of all solid bodies, and the most
+learned men amongst the Greeks and
+other nations had occupied themselves
+to ascertain and measure its
+proportions, he said it had never
+hitherto been regarded as a body, to
+be anatomized or explored in its internal
+parts. Some years ago, it had
+occurred to a French mathematician
+that the cube was divisible into six
+pyramidical forms; and it therefore
+had struck him, the inventor, that the
+natural formation of that figure was
+by a combination of those forms.
+Having detailed to his audience a
+number of experiments, and shown
+how the results thereby obtained accorded
+with mathematical principles,
+he proceeded to explain the various
+purposes to which diagonal portions
+of the cube might be applied. By
+cutting the body in half, and then dividing
+the half in a diagonal direction,
+he obtained a figure&mdash;namely, a
+quarter of the cube&mdash;in which, he observed,
+the whole strength or power
+of resistance of the entire body resided;
+and he showed the application
+of these sections of the cube to the
+purposes of paving by wood.&quot; Such
+is the first meagre report of the
+broaching of a scientific system of
+paving; and, with the patronage of
+such men of rank and eminence as
+took an interest in the subject, the
+progress was sure and rapid.</p>
+
+<p>In December 1839, about 1100
+square yards were laid down in Whitehall,
+and a triumph was never more
+complete; for since that period it has
+continued as smooth and level as when
+first it displaced the Macadam; it has
+never required repair, and has been a
+small basis of peace and quietness,
+amidst a desert of confusion and turmoil.
+Since that time, about sixty
+thousand yards in various parts of
+London, being about three-fourths of
+all the pavement hitherto introduced,
+attest the public appreciation of the
+Metropolitan Company's system. It
+may be interesting to those who watch
+the progress of great changes, to particularize
+the operations (amounting
+in the aggregate to forty thousand
+yards) that were carried out upon this
+system in 1842:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot">
+St Giles's, Holborn<br>
+Foundling Estate<br>
+Hammersmith Bridge<br>
+St Andrew's, Holborn<br>
+Jermyn Street<br>
+Old Bailey<br>
+Piccadilly<br>
+Newgate Street, eastern end<br>
+Southampton Street<br>
+Lombard Street<br>
+Oxford Street<br>
+Regent Street;<br>
+</div>
+
+<p>besides several noblemen's court-yards,
+such as the Dukes of Somerset and
+Sutherland's, and a great number of
+stables, for which it is found peculiarly
+adapted.</p>
+
+<p>The other projectors have specimens
+principally in the Strand; that
+near the Golden Cross, being by Mr
+Skead; that near Coutts's Bank, Mr
+Saunders; at St Giles's Church, in
+Holborn, Mr Rankin; and in the
+city, at Gracechurch Street, Cornhill,
+and the Poultry, Mr Cary. The
+Poultry is a short space lying between
+Cheapside and the Mansion-house,
+consisting altogether of only 378
+square yards. It lies in a hollow, as
+if on purpose to receive the river of
+mud which rolls its majestic course
+from the causeway on each side. The
+traffic on it, though not fast, is perpetual,
+and the system from the first
+was faulty. In addition to these
+drawbacks, its cleansing was totally
+neglected; and on all these accounts,
+it offered an excellent point of attack
+to any person who determined to signalize
+himself by preaching a crusade
+against wood. Preachers, thank heaven!
+are seldom wanted; and on this
+occasion the part of Peter the Hermit
+was undertaken by Peter the Knight;
+for our old acquaintance, the opponent
+of causeways, the sworn enemy to
+granite, the favourer of Macadam,
+had worn the chain of office; had had
+his ears tickled for a whole year by
+the magic word, my lord, was as
+much of a knight as Sir Amadis de
+Gaul, and much more of an alderman;
+had been a great dispenser of
+justice, and sometimes a dispenser
+with law; had made himself a name,
+before which that of the Curtises and
+Waithmans grew pale; and, above all,
+was at that very moment in want of a
+grievance. Sir Peter Laurie gave
+notice of a motion on the subject of
+the Poultry. People began to think
+something had gone wrong with the
+chickens, or that Sir Robert had laid
+a high duty on foreign eggs. The
+alarm spread into Norfolk, and affected
+the price of turkeys. Bantams fell
+in value, and barn-door fowls were a
+drug. In the midst of all these fears,
+it began to be whispered about, that if
+any chickens were concerned in the
+motion, it was Cary's chickens; and
+that the attack, though nominally on
+the hen-roost, was in reality on the
+wood. It was now the depth of
+winter; snowy showers were succeeded
+by biting frosts; the very smoothness
+of the surface of the wooden
+pavement was against it; for as no
+steps were taken to prevent slipperiness,
+by cleansing or sanding the
+street&mdash;or better still, perhaps, by
+roughing the horses' shoes, many
+tumbles took place on this doomed
+little portion of the road; and some of
+the city police, having probably, in the
+present high state of English morals,
+little else to do, were employed to
+count the falls. Armed with a list of
+these accidents, which grew in exact
+proportion to the number of people
+who saw them&mdash;(for instance, if three
+people separately reported, &quot;a grey
+horse down in the Poultry,&quot; it did
+duty for three grey horses)&mdash;Sir Peter
+opened the business of the day, at a
+meeting of the Commissioners of
+Sewers for the City of London, on the
+14th of February 1843. Mr Alderman
+Gibbs was in the chair. Sir
+Peter, on this occasion, transcended
+his usual efforts; he was inspired with
+the genius of his subject, and was as
+great a specimen of slip-slop as the
+streets themselves. He requested a
+petition to be read, signed by a Mr
+Gray, and a considerable number of
+other jobmasters and livery stable-keepers,
+against wood pavement; and,
+as it formed the text on which he
+spoke, we quote it entire:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;To the Commissioners of Sewers&mdash;
+
+<p>&quot;The humble memorial of your
+memorialists, humbly showeth,&mdash;That
+in consequence of the introduction of
+wood pavements into the City of London,
+in lieu of granite, a very great
+number of accidents have occurred;
+and in drawing a comparison between
+the two from observations made, it is
+found where one accident happened
+on the granite pavement, that ten at
+least took place upon the wood. Your
+memorialists therefore pray, that, in
+consequence of the wood pavement
+being so extremely dangerous to travel
+over, you would be pleased to
+take the matter into your serious consideration,
+and cause it to be removed;
+by doing which you will, in the first
+place, be removing a great and dangerous
+nuisance; and, secondly, you
+will be setting a beneficial and humane
+example to other metropolitan
+districts.&quot;</p></div>
+
+<p>Mr Gray, in addition to the memorial,
+begged fully to corroborate its
+statements, and said that he had himself
+twice been thrown out by the falling
+of his horse on the wood, and had
+broken his shafts both times. As he
+did not allude to his legs and arms, we
+conclude they escaped uninjured; and
+the only effect created by his observation,
+seemed to be a belief that his
+horse was probably addicted to falling,
+and preferred the wood to the rough
+and hard angles of the granite. Immediately
+after the reading of the
+stablemen's memorial, a petition was
+introduced in favour of wood pavement
+from Cornhill, signed by all the
+inhabitants of that wealthy and flourishing
+district, and, on the principles
+of fair play, we transcribe it as a pendant
+to the other:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your petitioners, the undersigned
+inhabitants of the ward of Cornhill
+and Birchen Lane, beg again to bring
+before you their earnest request, that
+that part of Cornhill which is still
+paved with granite, and also Birchen
+Lane, may now be paved with wood.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your petitioners are well aware
+that many complaints have been received
+of the wood paving in the
+Poultry; but they beg to submit to
+you that no reports which have been,
+or which may be made, of the accidents
+which have occurred on that
+small spot, should be considered as
+in any way illustrative of the merits
+of the general question. From its
+minuteness, and its slope at both extremities,
+it is constantly covered with
+slippery mud from the granite at each
+end; and that, together with the sudden
+transition from one sort of paving
+to another, causes the horses continually
+to stumble on that spot. Your
+petitioners therefore submit that no
+place could have been selected for
+experiment so ill adapted to show a
+fair result. Since your petitioners
+laid their former petition before you,
+they have ascertained, by careful examination
+and enquiry, that in places
+where wood paving has been laid
+down continuously to a moderate
+extent&mdash;viz. in Regent Street, Jermyn
+Street, Holborn, Oxford Street, the
+Strand, Coventry Street, and Lombard
+Street&mdash;it has fully effected all
+that was expected from it; it has freed
+the streets from the distracting nuisance
+of incessant noise, has diminished
+mud, increased the value of property,
+and given full satisfaction to the inhabitants.
+Your petitioners, therefore,
+beg to urge upon you most
+strongly a compliance with their request,
+which they feel assured would
+be a further extension of a great public
+good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In addition to the petition, Mr
+Fernie, who presented it, stated &quot;that
+the inhabitants (whom he represented)
+had satisfied themselves of the advantages
+of wood paving before they
+wished its adoption at their own doors.
+That enquiries had been made of the
+inhabitants of streets in the enjoyment
+of wood paving, and they all
+approved of it; and said, that nothing
+would induce them to return to the
+old system of stone; that they were
+satisfied the number of accidents had
+not been greater on the wood than
+they had been on the granite; and
+that they were of a much less serious
+character and extent.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sir Peter on this applied a red silk
+handkerchief to his nose; wound
+three blasts on that wild horn, as if to
+inspire him for the charge; and rushed
+into the middle of the fight. His
+first blow was aimed at Mr Prosser,
+the secretary of the Metropolitan
+Company, who had stated that in
+Russia, where wooden pavements were
+common, a sprinkling of pitch and
+strong sand had prevented the possibility
+of slipping. Orlando Furioso
+was a peaceful Quaker compared to
+the infuriate Laurie. &quot;The admission
+of Mr Prosser,&quot; he said, &quot;proves
+that, without pitch and sand, wood
+pavements are impassable;&quot; and fearful
+was it to see the prodigious vigour
+with which the Prosser with two <i>s</i>'s,
+was pressed and assaulted by the Proser
+with only one. Wonder took possession
+of the assemblage, at the catalogue
+of woes the impassioned orator
+had collected as the results of this
+most dangerous and murderous contrivance.
+An old woman had been
+run over by an omnibus&mdash;all owing
+to wood; a boy had been killed by a
+cab&mdash;all owing to wood; and it seemed
+never to have occurred to the
+speaker, in his anti-silvan fury, that
+boy's legs are occasionally broken by
+unruly cabs, and poles of omnibuses
+run into the backs of unsuspecting
+elderly gentlemen on the roads which
+continue under the protecting influence
+of granite or Macadam. He
+had seen horses fall on the wooden
+pavements in all directions; he had
+seen a troop of dragoons, in the midst
+of the frost, dismount and lead their
+un-roughed horses across Regent
+Street; the Recorder had gone round
+by the squares to avoid the wooden
+districts; one lady had ordered her
+coachman to stick constantly to stone;
+and another, when she required to go
+to Regent Street, dismissed her carriage
+and walked. The thanks he had
+received for his defence of granite
+were innumberable; an omnibus would
+not hold the compliments that had
+been paid him for his efforts against
+wood; and, as Lord Shaftesbury had
+expressed his obligations to him on
+the subject, he did not doubt that if
+the matter came before the House of
+Lords, he would bestow the degree of
+attention on it which his lordship bestowed
+on all matters of importance.
+Working himself us as he drew near
+his peroration, he broke out into a
+blaze of eloquence which put the Lord
+Mayor into some fear on account of
+the Thames, of which he is official
+conservator. &quot;The thing cannot
+last!&quot; he exclaimed; &quot;and if you don't,
+in less than two years from this time,
+say I am a true prophet, put me on
+seven years' allowance.&quot; What the
+meaning of this latter expression may
+be, we cannot divine. It seems to us
+no very severe punishment to be forced
+to receive the allowance of seven
+years instead of one, the only explanation
+we can think of is, that it contains
+some delicate allusion to the
+dietary of gentlemen who are supposed
+to be visiting one of the colonies in
+New Holland, but in reality employ
+themselves in aquatic amusements in
+Portsmouth and Plymouth harbour
+&quot;for the space of seven long years&quot;&mdash;and
+are not supposed to fare in so
+sumptuous a manner as the aldermen
+of the city of London.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The poor horses,&quot; he proceeded,
+&quot;that are continually tumbling down
+on the wood pavement, cannot send
+their representatives, but I will represent
+them here whenever I have the
+opportunity&quot;&mdash;(a horse laugh, as if
+from the orator's constituents, was excited
+by this sally.) &quot;But, gentlemen,
+besides the danger of this atrocious
+system, we ought to pay a little
+attention to the expense. I maintain
+you have no right to make the inhabitants
+of those streets to which there
+is no idea of extending the wood paving,
+pay for the ease and comfort, as
+it is called, of persons residing in the
+larger thoroughfares, such as Newgate
+Street and Cheapside. But the promoters
+say, 'Oh I but we will have
+the whole town paved with it'&mdash;(hear,
+hear.) What would this cost? A
+friend of mine has made some calculations
+on this point, and he finds that,
+to pave the whole town with wood, an
+outlay of twenty-four millions of money
+must be incurred!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was generally supposed in the
+meeting that the friend here alluded
+to was either Mr Joseph Hume or the
+ingenious gentleman who furnished
+Lord Stanley with the statistics of the
+wheat-growing districts of Tamboff.
+It was afterwards discovered to be a
+Mr Cocker Munchausen.</p>
+
+<p>Twenty-four millions of money!
+and all to be laid out on wood! The
+thought was so immense that it nearly
+choked the worthy orator, and he
+could not proceed for some time.
+When at last, by a great effort, he recovered
+the thread of his discourse, he
+became pathetic about the fate of one
+of the penny-post boys, (a relation&mdash;&quot;we
+guess&quot;&mdash;of the deceased H.
+Walker, Esq. of the Twopenny Post,)&mdash;who
+had broken his leg on the
+wooden pavement. The authorities
+had ordered the lads to avoid the wood
+in future. For all these reasons, Sir
+Peter concluded his speech with a
+motion, &quot;That the wood pavement
+in the Poultry is dangerous and inconvenient
+to the public, and ought to
+be taken up and replaced with granite
+pavement.&quot;</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot">
+&quot;As in a theatre the eyes of men,<br>
+After some well-graced actor leaves the stage,<br>
+Are idly bent on him who enters next<br>
+Thinking his prattle to be tedious,<br>
+Even so, or with more scorn, men's eyes<br>
+Were turned on&mdash;&mdash;Mr Deputy Godson!&quot;<br>
+</div>
+
+<p>The benevolent reader may have
+observed that the second fiddle is generally
+a little louder and more sharp
+set than the first. On this occasion
+that instrument was played upon by the
+worthy deputy, to the amazement of
+all the connoisseurs in that species of
+music in which he and his leader are
+known to excel. From his speech it
+was gathered that he represented a
+district which has been immortalized
+by the genius of the author of Tom
+Thumb; and in the present unfortunate
+aspect of human affairs, when a
+comet is brandishing its tail in the
+heavens, and O'Connell seems to have
+been deprived of his upon earth&mdash;when
+poverty, distress, rebellion, and
+wooden pavements, are threatening
+the very existence of <i>Great</i> Britain,
+it is consolotary to reflect that under
+the guardianship of Deputy Godson
+<i>Little</i> Britain is safe; for he is resolved
+to form a cordon of granite round
+it, and keep it free from the contamination
+of Norway pines or Scottish
+fir. &quot;I have been urged by my constituents,&quot;
+he says, &quot;to ask for wood
+pavement in Little Britain; but I am
+adverse to it, as I think wood paving
+is calculated to produce the greatest
+injury to the public.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have seen twenty horses down
+on the wood pavement together&mdash;(laughter.)
+I am here to state what
+I have seen. I have seen horses down
+on the wood pavement, twenty at a
+time&mdash;(renewed laughter.) I say, and
+with great deference, that we are in
+the habit of conferring favours when
+we ought to withhold them. I think
+gentlemen ought to pause before they
+burden the consolidated rate with those
+matters, and make the poor inhabitants
+of the City pay for the fancies of
+the wealthy members of Cornhill and
+the Poultry. We ought to deal even-handed
+justice, and not introduce into
+the City, and that at a great expense,
+a pavement that is dirty, stinking, and
+everything that is bad.&quot;&mdash;(laughter.)</p>
+
+<p>In Pope's Homer's Iliad, it is very
+distressing to the philanthropic mind
+to reflect on the feelings that must agitate
+the bosom of Mr Deputy Thersites
+when Ajax passes by. In the
+British Parliament it is a melancholy
+sight to see the countenance of some
+unfortunate orator when Sir Robert
+Peel rises to reply, with a smile of awful
+import on his lips, and a subdued
+cannibal expression of satisfaction in
+his eyes. Even so must it have been
+a harrowing spectacle to observe the
+effects of the answer of Mr R.L.
+Jones, who rose for the purpose of
+moving the previous question. He
+said, &quot;I thought the worthy alderman
+who introduced this question would
+have attempted to support himself by
+bringing some petitions from citizens
+against wood paving&mdash;(hear.) He
+has not done so, and I may observe,
+that from not one of the wards where
+wood pavement has been laid down
+has there been a petition to take any
+of the wood pavement up. What the
+mover of these resolutions has done,
+has been to travel from one end of the
+town to the other, to prove to you that
+wood paving is bad in principle. Has
+that been established?&mdash;(Cries of 'no,
+no.') I venture to say they have not
+established any thing of the kind. All
+that has been done is this&mdash;it has been
+shown that wood pavement, which is
+comparatively a recent introduction,
+has not yet been brought to perfection&mdash;(hear,
+hear.) Now, every one
+knows that complaints have always
+been made against every new principle,
+till it has been brought to perfection.
+Look, for instance, at the
+steam-engine. How vastly different
+it now is, with the improvements which
+science has effected, from what it was
+when it was first introduced to the
+notice of the world! Wherever wood
+pavement has been laid down, it has
+been approved of. All who have enjoyed
+the advantage of its extension,
+acknowledge the comfort derived
+from it. Sir Peter Laurie asserts
+that he is continually receiving thanks
+for his agitation about wood paving,
+and that an omnibus would not hold
+the compliments he receives at the
+West End. Now, I can only say,
+that I find the contrary to be the case;
+and every body who meets me exclaims,
+'Good God! what can Sir
+Peter Laurie be thinking about, to try
+and get the wood paving taken up,
+and stone paving substituted?' So far
+from thanking Sir Peter, every body
+is astonished at him. The wood
+pavement has not been laid down
+nearly three years, and I say here, in
+the face of the Commission, that there
+have not been ten blocks taken up;
+but had granite been put down, I will
+venture to say that it would, during
+the same period, have been taken up
+six or seven times. Your books
+will prove it, that the portion of
+granite pavement in the Poultry was
+taken up six or seven times during a
+period of three years. When the wood
+paving becomes a little slippery, go to
+your granite heaps which belong to
+this commission, or to your fine sifted
+cinder heaps, and let that be strewed
+over the surface; that contains no
+earthy particles, and will, when it becomes
+imbedded in the wood, form
+such a surface that there cannot be
+any possibility be any slipperiness&mdash;(hear,
+hear!) Do we not pursue this
+course in frosty weather even with
+our own stone paving? There used
+to be, before this plan was adopted,
+not a day pass but you would in frosty
+weather see two, three, four, and
+even five or six horses down together
+on the stone paving&mdash;('Oh! oh!' from
+Mr Deputy Godson.) My friend may
+cry 'oh! oh!' but I mean to say that
+this assertion is not so incongruous as
+the statement of my friend, that he
+saw twenty horses down at once on
+the wood pavement in Newgate Street,
+(laughter.) I may exclaim with my
+worthy friend the deputy on my left,
+who lives in Newgate Street, 'When
+the devil did it happen? I never heard
+of it.' I stand forward in support of
+wood paving as a great public principle,
+because I believe it to be most
+useful and advantageous to the public;
+which is proved by the fact, that the
+public at large are in favour of it. If
+we had given notice that this court
+would be open to hear the opinions of
+the citizens of London on the subject
+of wood paving, I am convinced that
+the number of petitions in its favour
+would have been so great, that the
+doors would not have been sufficiently
+wide to have received them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr Jones next turned his attention
+to the arithmetical statements of Sir
+Peter; and a better specimen of what
+in the Scotch language is called a
+stramash, it has never been our good
+fortune to meet with:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We have been told by the worthy
+knight who introduced this motion,
+that to pave London with wood would
+cost twenty-four millions of money.
+Now, it so happens that, some time
+since, I directed the city surveyor to
+obtain for me a return of the number
+of square yards of paving-stone there
+are throughout all the streets in this
+city. I hold that return in my hand;
+and I find there are 400,000 yards,
+which, at fifteen shillings per yard,
+would not make the cost of wood paving
+come to twenty-four millions of
+money; no, gentlemen, nor to four
+millions, nor to three, nor even to one
+million&mdash;why, the cost, gentlemen,
+dwindles down from Sir Peter's twenty-four
+millions to &pound;300,000&mdash;(hear,
+hear, and laughter.)</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I go into Fore Street I find every
+body admiring the wood pavement.
+If I go on Cornhill I find the same&mdash;and
+all the great bankers in Lombard
+Street say, 'What a delightful thing
+this wood paving is! Sir Peter Laurie
+must be mad to endeavour to deprive
+us of it.' I told them not to be
+alarmed, for they might depend on it
+the good sense of this court would not
+allow so great and useful an improvement
+in street paving to retrograde in
+the manner sought to be effected by
+this revolution. I shall content myself
+with moving the previous question&quot;&mdash;(cheers.)</p>
+
+<p>It is probable that Mr Jones, in
+moving the previous question, contented
+himself a mighty deal more than
+he did Sir Peter; and the triumph
+of the woodites was increased when Mr
+Pewtress seconded the amendment:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If there is any time of the year
+when the wood pavement is more dangerous
+than another, probably the
+most dangerous is when the weather
+is of the damp, muggy, and foggy character
+which has been prevailing;
+and when all pavements are remarkably
+slippery. The worthy knight
+has shown great tact in choosing his
+time for bringing this matter before
+the public. We have had three or
+four weeks weather of the most extraordinary
+description I ever remember;
+not frosty nor wet, but damp and slippery;
+so that the granite has been
+found so inconvenient to horses, that
+they have not been driven at the common
+and usual pace. And I am free
+to confess that, under the peculiar
+state of the atmosphere to which I
+have alluded, the wood pavement is
+more affected than the granite pavement.
+But in ordinary weather there
+is very little difference. I am satisfied
+that, if the danger and inconvenience
+were as great as the worthy knight
+has represented, we should have had
+applications against the pavement;
+but all the applications we have had
+on the subject have been in favour of
+the extension of wood pavement.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The speaker then takes up the
+ground, that as wood, as a material for
+paving, is only recently introduced, it
+is natural that vested interests should
+be alarmed, and that great misapprehension
+should exist as to its nature
+and merits. On this subject he introduces
+an admirable illustration:&mdash;&quot;In
+the early part of my life I remember
+attending a lecture&mdash;when gas was
+first introduced&mdash;by Mr Winson. The
+lecture was delivered in Pall-Mall, and
+the lecturer proposed to demonstrate
+that the introduction of gas would be
+destructive of life and property. I
+attended that lecture, and I never
+came away from a public lecture more
+fully convinced of any thing than I did
+that he had proved his position. He
+produced a quantity of gas, and placed
+a receiver on the table. He had with
+him some live birds, as well as some
+live mice and rabbits; and, introducing
+some gas into the receiver, he put one
+of the animals in it. In a few minutes
+life was extinct, and in this way he
+deprived about half a dozen of these
+animals of their life. 'Now, gentlemen,'
+said the lecturer, 'I have
+proved to you that gas is destructive
+to life; I will now show you that it is
+destructive to property.' He had a
+little pasteboard house, and said, 'I will
+suppose that it is lighted up with gas,
+and from the carelessness of the servant
+the stopcock of the burner has
+been so turned off as to allow an escape
+of gas, and that it has escaped
+and filled the house.' Having let the
+gas into the card house, he introduced
+a light and blew it up. 'Now,' said
+he, 'I think I have shown you that
+it is not only destructive to life and
+property; but that, if it is introduced
+into the metropolis, it will be blown up
+by it.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>We have now given a short analysis
+of the speeches of the proposers
+and seconders on each side in this
+great debate; and after hearing Mr
+Frodsham on the opposition, and the
+Common Sergeant&mdash;whose objection,
+however, to wood was confined to its unsuitableness
+at some seasons for horsemanship&mdash;granting
+that a strong feeling
+in its favour existed among the
+owners and inhabitants of houses
+where it has been laid down; and on
+the other side, Sir Chapman Marshall&mdash;a
+strenuous woodite&mdash;who challenged
+Sir Peter Laurie to find fault
+with the pavement at Whitehall,
+&quot;which he had no hesitation in saying
+was the finest piece of paving of
+any description in London;&quot; Mr
+King, who gave a home thrust to Sir
+Peter, which it was impossible to
+parry&mdash;&quot;We have heard a great deal
+about humanity and post-boys; does
+the worthy gentleman know, that the
+Postmaster has only within the last
+few weeks sent a petition here, begging
+that you would, with all possible
+speed, put wood paving round the
+Post-office?&quot; and various other gentlemen
+<i>pro</i> and <i>con</i>&mdash;a division was
+taken, when Sir Peter was beaten by
+an immense majority.</p>
+
+<p>Another meeting, of which no public
+notice was given, was held shortly
+after to further Sir Peter's object, by
+sundry stable-keepers and jobmasters,
+under the presidency of the same Mr
+Gray, whose horse had acquired the
+malicious habit of breaking its knees
+on the Poultry. As there was no opposition,
+there was no debate; and as
+no names of the parties attending were
+published, it fell dead-born, although
+advertised two or three times in the
+newspapers.</p>
+
+<p>On Tuesday, the 4th of April, Sir
+Peter buckled on his armour once
+more, and led the embattled cherubim
+to war, on the modified question, &quot;That
+wood-paving operations be suspended
+in the city for a year;&quot; but after a
+repetition of the arguments on both
+sides, he was again defeated by the
+same overwhelming majority as before.</p>
+
+<p>Such is the state of wood paving as
+a party question among the city authorities
+at the present date. The
+squabbles and struggles among the
+various projectors would form an
+amusing chapter in the history of
+street rows&mdash;for it is seen that it is a
+noble prize to strive for. If the experiment
+succeeds, all London will be
+paved with wood, and fortunes will be
+secured by the successful candidates
+for employment. Every day some
+fresh claimant starts up and professes
+to have remedied every defect hitherto
+discovered in the systems of his predecessors.
+Still confidence seems unshaken
+in the system which has hitherto
+shown the best results; and since
+the introduction of the very ingenious
+invention of Mr Whitworth of Manchester,
+of a cart, which by an adaptation
+of wheels and pullies, and brooms
+and buckets, performs the work of
+thirty-six street-sweepers, the perfection
+of the work in Regent Street has
+been seen to such advantage, and the
+objections of slipperiness so clearly
+proved to arise, not from the nature
+of wood, but from the want of cleansing,
+that even the most timid are beginning
+to believe that the opposition
+to the further introduction of it is injudicious.
+Among these even Sir
+Peter promises to enrol himself, if the
+public favour continues as strong towards
+it for another year as he perceives
+it to be at the present time.</p>
+
+<p>And now, dismissing these efforts at
+resisting a change which we may safely
+take to be at some period or other
+inevitable, let us cast a cursory glance
+at some of the results of the general
+introduction of wood pavement.</p>
+
+<p>In the first place, the facility of
+cleansing will be greatly increased. A
+smooth surface, between which and the
+subsoil is interposed a thick concrete&mdash;which
+grows as hard and impermeable
+as iron&mdash;will not generate mud
+and filth to one-fiftieth of the extent
+of either granite roads or Macadam.
+It is probable that if there were no
+importations of dirt from the wheels
+of carriages coming off the stone
+streets, little scavengering would be
+needed. Certainly not more than
+could be supplied by one of Whitworth's
+machines. And it is equally
+evident that if wood were kept unpolluted
+by the liquid mud&mdash;into which
+the surface of the other causeways is
+converted in the driest weather by
+water carts&mdash;the slipperiness would be
+effectually cured.</p>
+
+<p>In the second place, the saving of
+expense in cleansing and repairing
+would be prodigious. Let us take as
+our text a document submitted to the
+Marylebone Vestry in 1840, and acted
+on by them in the case of Oxford
+Street; and remember that the expenses
+of cleansing were calculated at the
+cost of the manual labour&mdash;a cost, we
+believe, reduced two thirds by the invention
+of Mr Whitworth. The Report
+is dated 1837:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" class="blkquot">
+<tr><td>&quot;The cost of the last five years having been,</td><td align="right">&pound;16,881</td></tr>
+<tr><td>The present expense for 1837, about</td><td align="right">2,000</td></tr>
+<tr><td>The required outlay</td><td align="right">4,000</td></tr>
+<tr><td>And the cleansing for 1837</td><td align="right">900</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Gives a total for six years of</td><td align="right">&pound;23,781</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;Or an annual expenditure averaging
+&pound;3963; so that the future expenses of
+Oxford Street, maintained as a Macadamized
+carriage-way, would be about
+&pound;4000, or 2s. 4d per yard per annum.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In contrast with this extract from
+the parochial documents, the results of
+which must have been greatly increased
+within the last three years, the Metropolitan
+Wood-Paving Company, who
+have already laid down above 4000 yards
+in Oxford Street, between Wells Street
+and Charles Street, are understood to
+be willing to complete the entire street
+in the best manner for 12s. per square
+yard, or about &pound;14,000&mdash;for which they
+propose to take bonds bearing interest
+at the rate of four-and-a-half per cent
+per annum, whereby the parish will obtain
+ample time for ultimate payment; and
+further, to keep the whole in repair, inclusive
+of the cost of cleansing and
+watering, for one year gratuitously, and
+for twelve years following at &pound;1900 per
+annum, being less than one-half the present
+outlay for these purposes.&quot;</p></div>
+
+<p>Whether these were the terms finally
+agreed on we do not know; but
+we perceive by public tenders that the
+streets can be paved in the best possible
+manner for 13s. or 12s. 6d. a yard;
+and kept in repair for 6d. a yard
+additional. This is certainly
+much cheaper than Macadam, and we
+should think more economical than
+causeways. And, besides, it has the
+advantage&mdash;which one of the speakers
+suggested to Sir Peter Laurie&mdash;&quot;that
+in case of an upset, it is far more satisfactory
+to contest the relative hardness
+of heads with a block of wood
+than a mass of granite.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>We can only add in conclusion,
+that advertisements are published by
+the Commissioners of Sewers for contracts
+to pave with wood Cheapside,
+and Bishopsgate Street, and Whitechapel.
+Oh, Sir Peter!--how are the
+mighty fallen!</p>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+
+<a name="bw329s6" id="bw329s6"></a><h2>POEMS AND BALLADS OF SCHILLER. NO. VIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>FIRST PERIOD CONTINUED.</h3>
+<br>
+
+<h3>A FUNERAL FANTASIE.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p>1.</p>
+<p class="i2">Pale, at its ghastly noon,</p>
+<p>Pauses above the death-still wood&mdash;the moon;</p>
+<p>The night-sprite, sighing, through the dim air stirs;</p>
+<p class="i2">The clouds descend in rain;</p>
+<p class="i2">Mourning, the wan stars wane,</p>
+<p>Flickering like dying lamps in sepulchres!</p>
+<p>Haggard as spectres&mdash;vision-like and dumb,</p>
+<p class="i2">Dark with the pomp of Death, and moving slow,</p>
+<p>Towards that sad lair the pale Procession come</p>
+<p class="i2">Where the Grave closes on the Night below.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>2.</p>
+<p class="i2">With dim, deep sunken eye,</p>
+<p>Crutch'd on his staff, who trembles tottering by?</p>
+<p>As wrung from out the shatter'd heart, one groan</p>
+<p class="i2">Breaks the deep hush alone!</p>
+<p>Crush'd by the iron Fate, he seems to gather</p>
+<p class="i2">All life's last strength to stagger to the bier,</p>
+<p>And hearken&mdash;&mdash;Do those cold lips murmur &quot;Father?&quot;</p>
+<p class="i2">The sharp rain, drizzling through that place of fear,</p>
+<p>Pierces the bones gnaw'd fleshless by despair,</p>
+<p>And the heart's horror stirs the silver hair.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>3.</p>
+<p>Fresh bleed the fiery wounds</p>
+<p class="i2">Through all that agonizing heart undone&mdash;</p>
+<p>Still on the voiceless lips &quot;my Father&quot; sounds,</p>
+<p class="i2">And still the childless Father murmurs &quot;Son!&quot;</p>
+<p>Ice-cold&mdash;ice-cold, in that white shroud he lies&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Thy sweet and golden dreams all vanish'd there&mdash;</p>
+<p>The sweet and golden name of &quot;Father&quot; dies</p>
+<p class="i2">Into thy curse,&mdash;ice-cold&mdash;ice-cold&mdash;he lies</p>
+<p class="i4">Dead, what thy life's delight and Eden were!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>4.</p>
+<p>Mild, as when, fresh from the arms of Aurora,</p>
+<p class="i2">When the air like Elysium is smiling above,</p>
+<p>Steep'd in rose-breathing odours, the darling of Flora</p>
+<p class="i2">Wantons over the blooms on his winglets of love.&mdash;</p>
+<p>So gay, o'er the meads, went his footsteps in bliss,</p>
+<p class="i2">The silver wave mirror'd the smile of his face;</p>
+<p>Delight, like a flame, kindled up at his kiss,</p>
+<p class="i2">And the heart of the maid was the prey of his chase.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>5.</p>
+<p>Boldly he sprang to the strife of the world,</p>
+<p class="i2">As a deer to the mountain-top carelessly springs;</p>
+<p>As an eagle whose plumes to the sun are unfurl'd,</p>
+<p class="i2">Swept his Hope round the Heaven on its limitless wings.</p>
+<p>Proud as a war-horse that chafes at the rein,</p>
+<p class="i2">That kingly exults in the storm of the brave;</p>
+<p>That throws to the wind the wild stream of its mane,</p>
+<p class="i2">Strode he forth by the prince and the slave!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>6.</p>
+<p>Life, like a spring-day, serene and divine,</p>
+<p class="i2">In the star of the morning went by as a trance;</p>
+<p>His murmurs he drown'd in the gold of the wine,</p>
+<p class="i2">And his sorrows were borne on the wave of the dance.</p>
+<p>Worlds lay conceal'd in the hopes of his youth,</p>
+<p class="i2">When once he shall ripen to manhood and fame!</p>
+<p>Fond Father exult!--In the germs of his youth</p>
+<p class="i2">What harvests are destined for Manhood and Fame!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>7.</p>
+<p>Not to be was that Manhood!--The death-bell is knelling</p>
+<p class="i2">The hinge of the death-vault creaks harsh on the ears&mdash;</p>
+<p>How dismal, O Death, is the place of thy dwelling!</p>
+<p class="i2">Not to be was that Manhood!--Flow on bitter tears!</p>
+<p>Go, beloved, thy path to the sun,</p>
+<p class="i2">Rise, world upon world, with the perfect to rest;</p>
+<p>Go&mdash;quaff the delight which thy spirit has won,</p>
+<p class="i2">And escape from our grief in the halls of the blest.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>8.</p>
+<p>Again (in that thought what a healing is found!)</p>
+<p class="i2">To meet in the Eden to which thou art fled!&mdash;</p>
+<p>Hark, the coffin sinks down with a dull, sullen sound,</p>
+<p class="i2">And the ropes rattle over the sleep of the dead.</p>
+<p>And we cling to each other!--O Grave, he is thine!</p>
+<p class="i2">The eye tells the woe that is mute to the ears&mdash;</p>
+<p>And we dare to resent what we grudge to resign,</p>
+<p class="i2">Till the heart's sinful murmur is choked in its tears.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i2">Pale at its ghastly noon,</p>
+<p>Pauses above the death-still wood&mdash;the moon!</p>
+<p>The night-sprite, sighing, through the dim air stirs;</p>
+<p class="i2">The clouds descend in rain;</p>
+<p class="i2">Mourning, the wan stars wane,</p>
+<p>Flickering like dying lamps in sepulchres.</p>
+<p>The dull clods swell into the sullen mound;</p>
+<p class="i2">Earth, one look yet upon the prey we gave!</p>
+<p>The Grave locks up the treasure it has found;</p>
+<p>Higher and higher swells the sullen mound&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Never gives back the Grave!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+<br>
+
+<h3>A GROUP IN TARTARUS.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p>Hark, as hoarse murmurs of a gathering sea&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">As brooks that howling through black gorges go,</p>
+<p>Groans sullen, hollow, and eternally,</p>
+<p class="i2">One wailing Woe!</p>
+<p>Sharp Anguish shrinks the shadows there;</p>
+<p>And blasphemous Despair</p>
+<p>Yells its wild curse from jaws that never close;</p>
+<p class="i2">And ghastly eyes for ever</p>
+<p class="i2">Stare on the bridge of the relentless River,</p>
+<p>Or watch the mournful wave as year on year it flows,</p>
+<p class="i2">And ask each other, with parch'd lips that writhe</p>
+<p>Into a whisper, &quot;When the end shall be!&quot;</p>
+<p class="i2">The <i>end</i>?&mdash;Lo, broken in Time's hand the scythe,</p>
+<p>And round and round revolves Eternity!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+<br>
+
+<h3>ELYSIUM.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p>Past the despairing wail&mdash;</p>
+<p>And the bright banquets of the Elysian Vale</p>
+<p class="i2">Melt every care away!</p>
+<p>Delight, that breathes and moves for ever,</p>
+<p>Glides through sweet fields like some sweet river!</p>
+<p class="i2">Elysian life survey!</p>
+<p>There, fresh with youth, o'er jocund meads,</p>
+<p>His youngest west-winds blithely leads</p>
+<p class="i2">The ever-blooming May.</p>
+<p>Thorough gold-woven dreams goes the dance of the Hours,</p>
+<p>In space without bounds swell the soul and its powers,</p>
+<p>And Truth, with no veil, gives her face to the day,</p>
+<p>And joy to-day and joy to-morrow,</p>
+<p class="i2">But wafts the airy soul aloft;</p>
+<p>The very name is lost to Sorrow,</p>
+<p class="i2">And Pain is Rapture tuned more exquisitely soft.</p>
+<p>Here the Pilgrim reposes the world-weary limb,</p>
+<p>And forgets in the shadow, cool-breathing and dim,</p>
+<p class="i2">The load he shall bear never more;</p>
+<p>Here the Mower, his sickle at rest, by the streams,</p>
+<p>Lull'd with harp-strings, reviews, in the calm of his dreams,</p>
+<p class="i2">The fields, when the harvest is o'er.</p>
+<p>Here, He, whose ears drank in the battle-roar,</p>
+<p>Whose banners stream'd upon the startled wind</p>
+<p class="i2">A thunder-storm,&mdash;before whose thunder tread</p>
+<p>The mountains trembled,&mdash;in soft sleep reclined,</p>
+<p class="i2">By the sweet brook that o'er its pebbly bed</p>
+<p>In silver plays, and murmurs to the shore,</p>
+<p>Hears the stern clangour of wild spears no more!</p>
+<p>Here the true Spouse the lost-beloved regains,</p>
+<p>And on the enamell'd couch of summer-plains</p>
+<p class="i2">Mingles sweet kisses with the west-wind's breath.</p>
+<p>Here, crown'd at last&mdash;Love never knows decay,</p>
+<p>Living through ages its one BRIDAL DAY,</p>
+<p>Safe from the stroke of Death!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+<br>
+
+<h3>COUNT EBERHARD, THE GRUMBLER, OF WURTEMBERG.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p>Ha, ha I take heed&mdash;ha, ha! take heed,<a name="footnotetag10" id="footnotetag10"></a><a href="#footnote10"><sup>10</sup></a></p>
+<p class="i2">Ye knaves both South and North!</p>
+<p>For many a man both bold in deed</p>
+<p>And wise in peace, the land to lead,</p>
+<p class="i2">Old Swabia has brought forth.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Proud boasts your Edward and your Charles,</p>
+<p class="i2">Your Ludwig, Frederick&mdash;are!</p>
+<p>Yet Eberhard's worth, ye bragging carles!</p>
+<p>Your Ludwig, Frederick, Edward, Charles&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">A thunder-storm in war.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>And Ulrick, too, his noble son,</p>
+<p class="i2">Ha, ha! his might ye know;</p>
+<p>Old Eberhard's boast, his noble son,</p>
+<p>Not he the boy, ye rogues, to run,</p>
+<p class="i2">How stout soe'er the foe!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>The Reutling lads with envy saw</p>
+<p class="i2">Our glories, day by day;</p>
+<p>The Reutling lads shall give the law&mdash;</p>
+<p>The Reutling lads the sword shall draw&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">O Lord&mdash;how hot were they!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Out Ulrick went and beat them not&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">To Eberhard back he came&mdash;</p>
+<p>A lowering look young Ulrick got&mdash;</p>
+<p>Poor lad, his eyes with tears were hot&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">He hung his head for shame.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>&quot;Ho&mdash;ho&quot;&mdash;thought he&mdash;&quot;ye rogues beware,</p>
+<p class="i2">Nor you nor I forget&mdash;</p>
+<p>For by my father's beard I swear</p>
+<p>Your blood shall wash the blot I bear,</p>
+<p class="i2">And Ulrick pay you yet!&quot;</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Soon came the hour! with steeds and men</p>
+<p class="i2">The battle-field was gay;</p>
+<p>Steel closed in steel at Duffingen&mdash;</p>
+<p>And joyous was our stripling then,</p>
+<p class="i2">And joyous the hurra!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>&quot;The battle lost&quot; our battle-cry;</p>
+<p class="i2">The foe once more advances:</p>
+<p>As some fierce whirlwind cleaves the sky,</p>
+<p>We skirr, through blood and slaughter, by,</p>
+<p class="i2">Amidst a night of lances!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>On, lion-like, grim Ulrick sweeps&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Bright shines his hero-glaive&mdash;</p>
+<p>Her chase before him Fury keeps,</p>
+<p>Far-heard behind him, Anguish weeps,</p>
+<p class="i2">And round him&mdash;is the Grave!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Woe&mdash;woe! it gleams&mdash;the sabre-blow&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Swift-sheering down it sped&mdash;</p>
+<p>Around, brave hearts the buckler throw&mdash;</p>
+<p>Alas! our boast in dust is low!</p>
+<p class="i2">Count Eberhard's boy is dead!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Grief checks the rushing Victor-van&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Fierce eyes strange moisture know&mdash;</p>
+<p>On rides old Eberhard, stern and wan,</p>
+<p>&quot;My son is like another man&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">March, children, on the Foe!&quot;</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>And fiery lances whirr'd around,</p>
+<p>Revenge, at least, undying&mdash;</p>
+<p>Above the blood-red clay we bound&mdash;</p>
+<p>Hurrah! the burghers break their ground,</p>
+<p class="i2">Through vale and woodland flying!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Back to the camp, behold us throng,</p>
+<p class="i2">Flags stream, and bugles play&mdash;</p>
+<p>Woman and child with choral song,</p>
+<p>And men, with dance and wine, prolong</p>
+<p class="i2">The warrior's holyday.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>And our old Count&mdash;and what doth he?</p>
+<p class="i2">Before him lies his son,</p>
+<p>Within his lone tent, lonelily,</p>
+<p>The old man sits with eyes that see</p>
+<p class="i2">Through one dim tear&mdash;his son!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>So heart and soul, a loyal band,</p>
+<p class="i2">Count Eberhard's band, we are!</p>
+<p>His front the tower that guards the land,</p>
+<p>A thunderbolt his red right hand&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">His eye a guiding star!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Then take ye heed&mdash;Aha! take heed,</p>
+<p class="i2">Ye knaves both South and North!</p>
+<p>For many a man, both bold in deed</p>
+<p>And wise in peace, the land to lead,</p>
+<p class="i2">Old Swabia has brought forth!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+<br>
+
+<h3>TO A MORALIST.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p>Are the sports of our youth so displeasing?</p>
+<p class="i2">Is love but the folly you say?</p>
+<p>Benumb'd with the Winter, and freezing,</p>
+<p class="i2">You scold at the revels of May.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>For you once a nymph had her charms,</p>
+<p class="i2">And oh! when the waltz you were wreathing,</p>
+<p>All Olympus embraced in your arms&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">All its nectar in Julia's breathing.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>If Jove at that moment had hurl'd</p>
+<p class="i2">The earth in some other rotation,</p>
+<p>Along with your Julia whirl'd,</p>
+<p class="i2">You had felt not the shock of creation.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Learn this&mdash;that Philosophy beats</p>
+<p class="i2">Sure time with the pulse&mdash;quick or slow</p>
+<p>As the blood from the heyday retreats,&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">But it cannot make gods of us&mdash;No!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>It is well, icy Reason should thaw</p>
+<p class="i2">In the warm blood of Mirth now and then,</p>
+<p>The Gods for themselves have a law</p>
+<p class="i2">Which they never intended for men.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>The spirit is bound by the ties</p>
+<p class="i2">Of its jailer, the Flesh&mdash;if I can</p>
+<p>Not reach, as an angel, the skies,</p>
+<p class="i2">Let me feel, on the earth, as a Man.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+<br>
+
+<h3>ROUSSEAU.<a name="footnotetag11" id="footnotetag11"></a><a href="#footnote11"><sup>11</sup></a></h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p>Oh, Monument of Shame to this our time,</p>
+<p>Dishonouring record to thy Mother Clime!</p>
+<p>Hail, Grave of Rousseau! Here thy sorrows cease.</p>
+<p>Freedom and Peace from earth and earthly strife!</p>
+<p>Vainly, sad seeker, didst thou search through life</p>
+<p>To find&mdash;(found now)&mdash;the Freedom and the Peace.</p>
+<p>When will the old wounds scar? In the dark age</p>
+<p>Perish'd the wise. Light came; how fares the sage?</p>
+<p>There's no abatement of the bigot's rage.</p>
+<p>Still as the wise man bled, he bleeds again.</p>
+<p>Sophists prepared for Socrates the bowl&mdash;</p>
+<p>And Christians drove the steel through Rousseau's soul&mdash;</p>
+<p>Rousseau who strove to render Christians&mdash;men.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+<br>
+
+<h3>FORTUNE AND WISDOM.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p>In a quarrel with her lover</p>
+<p class="i2">To Wisdom Fortune flew;</p>
+<p>&quot;I'll all my hoards discover&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Be but my friend&mdash;to you.</p>
+<p>Like a mother I presented</p>
+<p class="i2">To one each fairest gift,</p>
+<p>Who still is discontented,</p>
+<p class="i2">And murmurs at my thrift.</p>
+<p>Come, let's be friends. What say you?</p>
+<p class="i2">Give up that weary plough,</p>
+<p>My treasures shall repay you,</p>
+<p class="i2">For both I have enow!&quot;</p>
+<p>&quot;Nay, see thy Friend betake him</p>
+<p class="i2">To death from grief for thee&mdash;</p>
+<p><i>He</i> dies if thou forsake him&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Thy gifts are nought to <i>me</i>!&quot;</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE INFANTICIDE.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p>1.</p>
+<p>Hark where the bells toll, chiming, dull and steady,</p>
+<p class="i2">The clock's slow hand hath reach'd the appointed time.</p>
+<p>Well, be it so&mdash;prepare! my soul is ready,</p>
+<p class="i2">Companions of the grave&mdash;the rest for crime!</p>
+<p>Now take, O world! my last farewell&mdash;receiving</p>
+<p class="i2">My parting kisses&mdash;in these tears they dwell!</p>
+<p>Sweet are thy poisons while we taste believing,</p>
+<p class="i2">Now we are quits&mdash;heart-poisoner, fare-thee-well!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>2.</p>
+<p>Farewell, ye suns that once to joy invited,</p>
+<p class="i2">Changed for the mould beneath the funeral shade</p>
+<p>Farewell, farewell, thou rosy Time delighted,</p>
+<p class="i2">Luring to soft desire the careless maid.</p>
+<p>Pale gossamers of gold, farewell, sweet-dreaming</p>
+<p class="i2">Fancies&mdash;the children that an Eden bore!</p>
+<p>Blossoms that died while dawn itself was gleaming,</p>
+<p class="i2">Opening in happy sunlight never more.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>3.</p>
+<p>Swanlike the robe which Innocence bestowing,</p>
+<p class="i2">Deck'd with the virgin favours, rosy fair,</p>
+<p>In the gay time when many a young rose glowing,</p>
+<p class="i2">Blush'd through the loose train of the amber hair.</p>
+<p>Woe, woe! as white the robe that decks me now&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">The shroud-like robe Hell's destined victim wears;</p>
+<p>Still shall the fillet bind this burning brow&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2"><i>That</i> sable braid the Doomsman's hand prepares!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>4.</p>
+<p>Weep, ye <i>who never fell</i>&mdash;for whom, unerring,</p>
+<p class="i2">The soul's white lilies keep their virgin hue,</p>
+<p>Ye who when thoughts so danger-sweet are stirring,</p>
+<p class="i2">Take the stern strength that Nature gives the few</p>
+<p>Woe, for too human was this fond heart's feeling&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Feeling!--my sin's avenger<a name="footnotetag12" id="footnotetag12"></a><a href="#footnote12"><sup>12</sup></a> doom'd to be;</p>
+<p>Woe&mdash;for the false man's arm around me stealing,</p>
+<p class="i2">Stole the lull'd Virtue, charm'd to sleep, from me.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>5.</p>
+<p>Ah, he perhaps shall, round another sighing,</p>
+<p class="i2">(Forgot the serpents stinging at my breast,)</p>
+<p>Gaily, when I in the dumb grave am lying,</p>
+<p class="i2">Pour the warm wish, or speed the wanton jest,</p>
+<p>Or play, perchance, with his new maiden's tresses,</p>
+<p class="i2">Answer the kiss her lip enamour'd brings,</p>
+<p>When the dread block the head he cradled presses,</p>
+<p class="i2">And high the blood his kiss once fever'd springs.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>6.</p>
+<p>Thee, Francis, Francis,<a name="footnotetag13" id="footnotetag13"></a><a href="#footnote13"><sup>13</sup></a> league on league, shall follow</p>
+<p class="i2">The death-dirge of the Lucy once so dear;</p>
+<p>From yonder steeple, dismal, dull, and hollow,</p>
+<p class="i2">Shall knell the warning horror on thy ear.</p>
+<p>On thy fresh leman's lips when Love is dawning,</p>
+<p class="i2">And the lisp'd music glides from that sweet well&mdash;</p>
+<p>Lo, in that breast a red wound shall be yawning,</p>
+<p class="i2">And, in the midst of rapture, warn of hell!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>7.</p>
+<p>Betrayer, what! thy soul relentless closing</p>
+<p class="i2">To grief&mdash;the woman-shame no art can heal&mdash;</p>
+<p>To that small life beneath my heart reposing!</p>
+<p class="i2">Man, man, the wild beast for its young can feel!</p>
+<p>Proud flew the sails&mdash;receding from the land,</p>
+<p class="i2">I watch'd them waning from the wistful eye,</p>
+<p>Round the gay maids on Seine's voluptuous strand,</p>
+<p class="i2">Breathes the false incense of his fatal sigh.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>8.</p>
+<p>And there the Babe! there, on the mother's bosom,</p>
+<p class="i2">Lull'd in its sweet and golden rest it lay,</p>
+<p>Fresh in life's morning as a rosy blossom,</p>
+<p class="i2">It smiled, poor harmless one, my tears away.</p>
+<p>Deathlike yet lovely, every feature speaking</p>
+<p class="i2">In such dear calm and beauty to my sadness,</p>
+<p>And cradled still the mother's heart, in breaking,</p>
+<p class="i2">The soft'ning love and the despairing madness.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>9.</p>
+<p>&quot;Woman, where is my father?&quot;&mdash;freezing through me,</p>
+<p class="i2">Lisp'd the mute Innocence with thunder-sound;</p>
+<p>&quot;Woman, where is thy husband?&quot;&mdash;called unto me,</p>
+<p class="i2">In every look, word, whisper, busying round!</p>
+<p>For thee, poor child, there is no father's kiss.</p>
+<p class="i2">He fondleth <i>other</i> children on his knee.</p>
+<p>How thou wilt curse our momentary bliss,</p>
+<p class="i2">When Bastard on thy name shall branded be!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>10.</p>
+<p>Thy mother&mdash;oh, a hell her heart concealeth,</p>
+<p class="i2">Lone-sitting, lone in social Nature's All!</p>
+<p>Thirsting for that glad fount thy love revealeth,</p>
+<p class="i2">While still thy look the glad fount turns to gall.</p>
+<p>In every infant cry my soul is heark'ning,</p>
+<p class="i2">The haunting happiness for ever o'er,</p>
+<p>And all the bitterness of death is dark'ning</p>
+<p class="i2">The heavenly looks that smiled mine eyes before.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>11.</p>
+<p>Hell, if my sight those looks a moment misses&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Hell, when my sight upon those looks is turn'd&mdash;</p>
+<p>The avenging furies madden in <i>thy</i> kisses,</p>
+<p class="i2">That slept in <i>his</i> what time my lips they burn'd.</p>
+<p>Out from their graves his oaths spoke back in thunder!</p>
+<p class="i2">The perjury stalk'd like murder in the sun&mdash;</p>
+<p>For ever&mdash;God!--sense, reason, soul, sunk under&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">The deed was done!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>12.</p>
+<p>Francis, O Francis! league on league, shall chase thee</p>
+<p class="i2">The shadows hurrying grimly on thy flight&mdash;</p>
+<p>Still with their icy arms they shall embrace thee,</p>
+<p class="i2">And mutter thunder in thy dream's delight!</p>
+<p>Down from the soft stars, in their tranquil glory,</p>
+<p class="i2">Shall look thy dead child with a ghastly stare;</p>
+<p>That shape shall haunt thee in its cerements gory,</p>
+<p class="i2">And scourge thee back from heaven&mdash;its home is there!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>13.</p>
+<p>Lifeless&mdash;how lifeless!--see, oh see, before me</p>
+<p class="i2">It lies cold&mdash;stiff!--O God!--and with that blood</p>
+<p>I feel, as swoops the dizzy darkness o'er me,</p>
+<p class="i2">Mine own life mingled&mdash;ebbing in the flood&mdash;</p>
+<p>Hark, at the door they knock&mdash;more loud within me&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">More awful still&mdash;its sound the dread heart gave!</p>
+<p>Gladly I welcome the cold arms that win me&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Fire, quench thy tortures in the icy grave!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>14.</p>
+<p>Francis&mdash;a God that pardons dwells in heaven&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Francis, the sinner&mdash;yes&mdash;she pardons thee&mdash;</p>
+<p>So let my wrongs unto the earth be given:</p>
+<p class="i2">Flame seize the wood!--it burns&mdash;it kindles&mdash;see!</p>
+<p>There&mdash;there his letters cast&mdash;behold are ashes&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">His vows&mdash;the conquering fire consumes them here:</p>
+<p>His kisses&mdash;see&mdash;see all&mdash;all are only ashes&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">All, all&mdash;the all that once on earth were dear!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>15.</p>
+<p>Trust not the roses which your youth enjoyeth,</p>
+<p class="i2">Sisters, to man's faith, changeful as the moon!</p>
+<p>Beauty to me brought guilt&mdash;its bloom destroyeth:</p>
+<p class="i2">Lo, in the judgment court I curse the boon:</p>
+<p>Tears in the headsman's gaze&mdash;what tears?&mdash;tis spoken!</p>
+<p class="i2">Quick, bind mine eyes&mdash;all soon shall be forgot&mdash;</p>
+<p>Doomsman&mdash;the lily hast thou never broken?</p>
+<p class="i2">Pale doomsman&mdash;tremble not!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<blockquote class="note">
+<p>[The poem we have just concluded was greatly admired at the time of its
+first publication, and it so far excels in art most of the earlier efforts by the
+author, that it attains one of the highest secrets in true pathos. It produces
+interest for the <i>criminal</i> while creating terror for the <i>crime</i>. This, indeed, is
+a triumph in art never achieved but by the highest genius. The inferior
+writer, when venturing upon the grandest stage of passion, (which unquestionably
+exists in the delineation of great guilt as of heroic virtue,) falls into
+the error either of gilding the crime in order to produce sympathy for the
+criminal, or, in the spirit of a spurious morality, of involving both crime and
+criminal in a common odium. It is to discrimination between the doer and
+the deed, that we owe the sublimest revelations of the human heart: in this
+discrimination lies the key to the emotions produced by the &OElig;dipus and
+Macbeth. In the brief poem before us a whole drama is comprehended.
+Marvellous is the completeness of the pictures it presents&mdash;its mastery over
+emotions the most opposite&mdash;its fidelity to nature in its exposition of the disordered
+and despairing mind in which tenderness becomes cruelty, and
+remorse for error tortures itself into scarce conscious crime.</p>
+
+<p>But the art employed, though admirable of its kind, still falls short of the
+perfection which, in his later works, Schiller aspired to achieve, viz. the point
+at which <i>Pain</i> ceases. The tears which Tragic Pathos, when purest and
+most elevated, calls forth, ought not to be tears of pain. In the ideal world,
+as Schiller has inculcated, even sorrow should have its charm&mdash;all that
+harrows, all that revolts, belongs but to that inferior school in which Schiller's
+fiery youth formed itself for nobler grades&mdash;the school &quot;of Storm and Pressure&quot;&mdash;(St&uuml;rm
+und Dr&auml;ng&mdash;as the Germans have expressively described it.)
+If the reader will compare Schiller's poem of the 'Infanticide,' with the passages
+which represent a similar crime in the Medea, (and the author of 'Wallenstein'
+deserves comparison even with Euripides,) he will see the distinction
+between the art that seeks an <i>elevated</i> emotion, and the art which is
+satisfied with creating an <i>intense</i> one. In Euripides, the detail&mdash;the reality&mdash;all
+that can degrade terror into pain&mdash;are loftily dismissed. The Titan
+grandeur of the Sorceress removes us from too close an approach to the
+crime of the unnatural Mother&mdash;the emotion of pity changes into awe&mdash;just
+at the pitch before the coarse sympathy of actual pain can be
+effected. And it is the avoidance of reality&mdash;it is the all-purifying Presence
+of the Ideal, which make the vast distinction in our emotions between
+following, with shocked and displeasing pity, the crushed, broken-hearted,
+mortal criminal to the scaffold, and gazing&mdash;with an awe which has pleasure
+of its own&mdash;upon the Mighty Murderess&mdash;soaring out of the reach of Humanity,
+upon her Dragon Car!]</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE.</h3>
+
+<h3>A HYMN.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p>Blessed through love are the Gods above&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Through love like the Gods may man be;</p>
+<p>Heavenlier through love is the heaven above,</p>
+<p class="i2">Through love like a heaven earth can be!</p>
+<p>Once, as the poet sung,</p>
+<p class="i2">In Pyrrha's time, 'tis known,</p>
+<p>From rocks Creation sprung,</p>
+<p class="i2">And Men leapt up from stone;</p>
+<p>Rock and stone, in night</p>
+<p class="i2">The souls of men were seal'd,</p>
+<p>Heaven's diviner light</p>
+<p class="i2">Not as yet reveal'd;</p>
+<p>As yet the Loves around them</p>
+<p class="i2">Had never shone&mdash;nor bound them</p>
+<p>With their rosy rings;</p>
+<p class="i2">As yet their bosoms knew not</p>
+<p>Soft song&mdash;and music grew not</p>
+<p class="i2">Out of the silver strings.</p>
+<p>No gladsome garlands cheerily</p>
+<p class="i2">Were love-y-woven then;</p>
+<p>And o'er Elysium drearily</p>
+<p class="i2">The May-time flew for men;<a name="footnotetag14" id="footnotetag14"></a><a href="#footnote14"><sup>14</sup></a></p>
+<p>The morning rose ungreeted</p>
+<p class="i2">From ocean's joyless breast;</p>
+<p>Unhail'd the evening fleeted</p>
+<p class="i2">To ocean's joyless breast&mdash;</p>
+<p>Wild through the tangled shade,</p>
+<p>By clouded moons they stray'd,</p>
+<p class="i2">The iron race of Men!</p>
+<p>Sources of mystic tears,</p>
+<p>Yearnings for starry spheres,</p>
+<p class="i2">No God awaken'd then!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Lo, mildly from the dark-blue water,</p>
+<p>Comes forth the Heaven's divinest Daughter,</p>
+<p class="i2">Borne by the Nymphs fair-floating o'er</p>
+<p class="i2">To the intoxicated shore!</p>
+<p>Like the light-scattering wings of morning</p>
+<p>Soars universal May, adorning</p>
+<p>As from the glory of that birth</p>
+<p>Air and the ocean, heaven and earth!</p>
+<p>Day's eye looks laughing, where the grim</p>
+<p>Midnight lay coil'd in forests dim;</p>
+<p>And gay narcissuses are sweet</p>
+<p>Wherever glide those holy feet&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Now, pours the bird that haunts the eve</p>
+<p>The earliest song of love,</p>
+<p class="i2">Now in the heart&mdash;their fountain&mdash;heave</p>
+<p>The waves that murmur love.</p>
+<p>O blest Pygmalion&mdash;blest art thou&mdash;</p>
+<p>It melts, it glows, thy marble now!</p>
+<p>O Love, the God, thy world is won!</p>
+<p>Embrace thy children, Mighty One.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Blessed through love are the Gods above&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Through love like the Gods may man be;</p>
+<p>Heavenlier through love is the heaven above,</p>
+<p class="i2">Through love like a heaven earth can be.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Where the nectar-bright streams,</p>
+<p>Like the dawn's happy dreams,</p>
+<p>Eternally one holiday,</p>
+<p>The life of the Gods glides away.</p>
+<p>Throned on his seat sublime,</p>
+<p>Looks He whose years know not time;</p>
+<p>At his nod, if his anger awaken,</p>
+<p>At the wave of his hair all Olympus is shaken.</p>
+<p>Yet He from the throne of his birth,</p>
+<p>Bow'd down to the sons of the earth,</p>
+<p>Through dim Arcadian glades to wander sighing,</p>
+<p class="i2">Lull'd into dreams of bliss&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Lull'd by his Leda's kiss</p>
+<p>Lo, at his feet the harmless thunders lying!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>The Sun's majestic coursers go</p>
+<p class="i2">Along the Light's transparent plain,</p>
+<p class="i2">Curb'd by the Day-god's golden rein;</p>
+<p>The nations perish at his bended bow;</p>
+<p class="i2">Steeds that majestic go,</p>
+<p class="i2">Death from the bended bow,</p>
+<p class="i2">Gladly he leaves above&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">For Melody and Love!</p>
+<p>Low bend the dwellers of the sky,</p>
+<p>When sweeps the stately Juno by;</p>
+<p>Proud in her car, the Uncontroll'd</p>
+<p class="i2">Curbs the bright birds that breast the air,</p>
+<p>As flames the sovereign crown of gold</p>
+<p class="i2">Amidst the ambrosial waves of hair&mdash;</p>
+<p>Ev'n thou, fair Queen of Heaven's high throne,</p>
+<p>Hast Love's subduing sweetness known;</p>
+<p>From all her state, the Great One bends</p>
+<p class="i2">To charm the Olympian's bright embraces,</p>
+<p>The Heart-Enthraller only lends</p>
+<p class="i2">The rapture-cestus of the Graces!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Blessed through love are the Gods above&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Through love like a God may man be;</p>
+<p>Heavenlier through love is the heaven above,</p>
+<p class="i2">Through love like a heaven earth can be!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Love can sun the Realms of Night&mdash;</p>
+<p>Orcus owns the magic might&mdash;</p>
+<p>Peaceful where She sits beside,</p>
+<p>Smiles the swart King on his Bride;</p>
+<p>Hell feels the smile in sudden light&mdash;</p>
+<p>Love can sun the Realms of Night.</p>
+<p>Heavenly o'er the startled Hell,</p>
+<p>Holy, where the Accursed dwell,</p>
+<p class="i2">O Thracian, went thy silver song!</p>
+<p>Grim Minos, with unconscious tears,</p>
+<p>Melts into mercy as he hears&mdash;</p>
+<p>The serpents in Megara's hair,</p>
+<p>Kiss, as they wreathe enamour'd there;</p>
+<p class="i2">All harmless rests the madding thong;&mdash;</p>
+<p>From the torn breast the Vulture mute</p>
+<p>Flies, scared before the charm&egrave;d lute&mdash;</p>
+<p>Lull'd into sighing from their roar</p>
+<p>The dark waves woo the listening shore&mdash;</p>
+<p>Listening the Thracian's silver song!&mdash;</p>
+<p>Love was the Thracian's silver song!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Blessed through love are the Gods above&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Through love like a God may man be;</p>
+<p>Heavenlier through love is the heaven above&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Through love like a heaven earth can be!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Through Nature blossom-strewing,</p>
+<p><i>One</i> footstep we are viewing,</p>
+<p class="i2">One flash from golden pinions!&mdash;</p>
+<p>If from Heaven's starry sea,</p>
+<p class="i2">If from the moonlit sky;</p>
+<p>If from the Sun's dominions,</p>
+<p class="i2">Look'd not Love's laughing eye;</p>
+<p>Then Sun and Moon and Stars would be</p>
+<p>Alike, without one smile for me!</p>
+<p class="i2">But, oh, wherever Nature lives</p>
+<p class="i4">Below, around, above&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Her happy eye the mirror gives</p>
+<p class="i4">To thy glad beauty, Love!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Love sighs through brooklets silver-clear,</p>
+<p class="i2">Love bids their murmur woo the vale;</p>
+<p>Listen, O list! Love's soul ye hear</p>
+<p class="i2">In his own earnest nightingale.</p>
+<p>No sound from Nature ever stirs,</p>
+<p>But Love's sweet voice is heard with hers!</p>
+<p>Bold Wisdom, with her sunlit eye,</p>
+<p>Retreats when love comes whispering by&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">For Wisdom's weak to love!</p>
+<p>To victor stern or monarch proud,</p>
+<p>Imperial Wisdom never bow'd</p>
+<p class="i2">The knee she bows to Love!</p>
+<p>Who through the steep and starry sky,</p>
+<p>Goes onward to the gods on high,</p>
+<p class="i2">Before thee, hero-brave?</p>
+<p>Who halves for thee the land of Heaven;</p>
+<p>Who shows thy heart, Elysium, given</p>
+<p class="i2">Through the flame-rended Grave?</p>
+<p>Below, if we were blind to Love,</p>
+<p>Say, should we soar o'er Death, above?</p>
+<p>Would the weak soul, did Love forsake her,</p>
+<p>E'er gain the wing to seek the Maker?</p>
+<p>Love, only Love, can guide the creature</p>
+<p>Up to the Father-fount of Nature;</p>
+<p>What were the soul did Love forsake her?</p>
+<p>Love guides the Mortal to the Maker!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p>Blessed through love are the Gods above&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Through love like a God may man be:</p>
+<p>Heavenlier through love is the heaven above,</p>
+<p class="i2">Through love like a heaven earth can be!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+<br>
+
+<h3>FANTASIE TO LAURA.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p>What, Laura, say, the vortex that can draw</p>
+<p class="i2">Body to body in its strong control;</p>
+<p>Beloved Laura, what the charm&egrave;d law</p>
+<p class="i2">That to the soul attracting plucks the soul?</p>
+<p>It is the charm that rolls the stars on high,</p>
+<p class="i2">For ever round the sun's majestic blaze&mdash;</p>
+<p>When, gay as children round their parent, fly</p>
+<p class="i2">Their circling dances in delighted maze.</p>
+<p>Still, every star that glides its gladsome course,</p>
+<p class="i2">Thirstily drinks the luminous golden rain;</p>
+<p>Drinks the fresh vigour from the fiery source,</p>
+<p class="i2">As limbs imbibe life's motion from the brain;</p>
+<p>With sunny motes, the sunny motes united</p>
+<p class="i2">Harmonious lustre both receive and give,</p>
+<p>Love spheres with spheres still interchange delighted,</p>
+<p class="i2">Only through love the starry systems live.</p>
+<p>Take love from Nature's universe of wonder,</p>
+<p class="i2">Each jarring each, rushes the mighty All.</p>
+<p>See, back to Chaos shock'd, Creation thunder;</p>
+<p class="i2">Weep, starry Newton&mdash;weep the giant fall!</p>
+<p>Take from the spiritual scheme that Power away,</p>
+<p class="i2">And the still'd body shrinks to Death's abode.</p>
+<p>Never&mdash;love <i>not</i>&mdash;would blooms revive for May,</p>
+<p class="i2">And, love extinct, all life were dead to God.</p>
+<p>And what the charm that at my Laura's kiss,</p>
+<p class="i2">Pours the diviner brightness to the cheek;</p>
+<p>Makes the heart bound more swiftly to its bliss,</p>
+<p class="i2">And bids the rushing blood the magnet seek&mdash;</p>
+<p>Out from their bounds swell nerve, and pulse, and sense,</p>
+<p class="i2">The veins in tumult would their shores o'erflow;</p>
+<p>Body to body rapt&mdash;and charm&egrave;d thence,</p>
+<p class="i2">Soul drawn to soul with intermingled glow.</p>
+<p>Mighty alike to sway the flow and ebb</p>
+<p class="i2">Of the inanimate Matter, or to move</p>
+<p>The nerves that weave the Arachn&egrave;an web</p>
+<p class="i2">Of Sentient Life&mdash;rules all-pervading Love!</p>
+<p>Ev'n in the Moral World, embrace and meet</p>
+<p class="i2">Emotions&mdash;Gladness clasps the extreme of Care;</p>
+<p>And Sorrow, at the worst, upon the sweet</p>
+<p class="i2">Breast of young Hope, is thaw'd from its despair.</p>
+<p>Of sister-kin to melancholy Woe,</p>
+<p class="i2">Voluptuous Pleasure comes, and with the birth</p>
+<p>Of her gay children, (golden Wishes,) lo,</p>
+<p class="i2">Night flies, and sunshine settles on the earth!<a name="footnotetag15" id="footnotetag15"></a><a href="#footnote15"><sup>15</sup></a></p>
+<p>The same great Law of Sympathy is given</p>
+<p class="i2">To Evil as to Good, and if we swell</p>
+<p>The dark account that life incurs with Heaven,</p>
+<p class="i2">'Tis that our Vices are thy Wooers, Hell!</p>
+<p>In turn those Vices are embraced by Shame</p>
+<p class="i2">And fell Remorse, the twin Eumenides.</p>
+<p>Danger still clings in fond embrace to Fame,</p>
+<p class="i2">Mounts on her wing, and flies where'er she flees.</p>
+<p>Destruction marries its dark self to Pride,</p>
+<p class="i2">Envy to Fortune: when Desire most charms,</p>
+<p>'Tis that her brother Death is by her side,</p>
+<p class="i2">For him she opens those voluptuous arms.</p>
+<p>The very Future to the Past but flies</p>
+<p class="i2">Upon the wings of Love&mdash;as I to thee;</p>
+<p>O, long swift Saturn, with unceasing sighs,</p>
+<p class="i2">Hath sought his distant bride, Eternity!</p>
+<p>When&mdash;so I heard the oracle declare&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">When Saturn once shall clasp that bride sublime,</p>
+<p>Wide-blazing worlds shall light his nuptials there&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">'Tis thus Eternity shall wed with Time.</p>
+<p>In <i>those</i> shall be <i>our</i> nuptials! ours to share</p>
+<p class="i2"><i>That</i> bridenight, waken'd by no jealous sun;</p>
+<p>Since Time, Creation, Nature, but declare</p>
+<p class="i2">Love&mdash;in our love rejoice, Beloved One!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+<br>
+
+<h3>TO THE SPRING.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p>Welcome, gentle Stripling,</p>
+<p class="i2">Nature's darling, thou&mdash;</p>
+<p>With thy basket full of blossoms,</p>
+<p class="i2">A happy welcome now!</p>
+<p>Aha!--and thou returnest,</p>
+<p class="i2">Heartily we greet thee&mdash;</p>
+<p>The loving and the fair one,</p>
+<p class="i2">Merrily we meet thee!</p>
+<p>Think'st thou of my Maiden</p>
+<p class="i2">In thy heart of glee?</p>
+<p>I love her yet the Maiden&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">And the Maiden yet loves me!</p>
+<p>For the Maiden, many a blossom</p>
+<p class="i2">I begg'd&mdash;and not in vain;</p>
+<p>I came again, a-begging,</p>
+<p class="i2">And thou&mdash;thou giv'st again:</p>
+<p>Welcome, gentle stripling,</p>
+<p class="i2">Nature's darling thou&mdash;</p>
+<p>With thy basket full of blossoms,</p>
+<p class="i2">A happy welcome, now!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+
+<a name="bw329s7" id="bw329s7"></a><h2>NATURAL HISTORY OF SALMON AND SEA-TROUT.</h2>
+
+<blockquote class="note">
+<p>[<i>On the Growth of Grilse and Salmon</i>. By Mr Andrew Young, Invershin,
+Sutherlandshire. (Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. Vol. XV.
+Part III.) Edinburgh, 1843.]</p>
+
+<p>[<i>On the Growth and Migrations of the Sea-Trout of the Solway</i>. By Mr John
+Shaw, Drumlanrig. (Ibid.) Edinburgh, 1843.]</p>
+<br>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>The salmon is undoubtedly the finest
+and most magnificent of our fresh-water
+fishes, or rather of those <i>anadromous</i>
+kinds which, in accordance with the
+succession of the seasons, seek alternately
+the briny sea and the &quot;rivers
+of water.&quot; It is also the most important,
+both in a commercial and
+culinary point of view as well as the
+most highly prized by the angler as
+an object of exciting recreation. Notwithstanding
+these and other long-continued
+claims upon our consideration,
+a knowledge of its natural history and
+habits has developed itself so slowly,
+that little or nothing was precisely
+ascertained till very recently regarding
+either its early state or its eventual
+changes. The salmon-trout, in certain
+districts of almost equal value with the
+true salmon, was also but obscurely
+known to naturalists, most of whom,
+in truth, are too apt to satisfy themselves
+rather by the extension than the
+increase of knowledge. They hand
+down to posterity, in their barren
+technicalities, a great deal of what is
+neither new nor true, even in relation
+to subjects which lie within the sphere
+of ordinary observation,&mdash;to birds and
+beasts, which almost dwell among us,
+and give utterance, by articulate or
+intelligible sounds, to a vast variety of
+instinctive, and as it were explanatory
+emotions:&mdash;what marvel, then, that
+they should so often fail to inform us
+of what we desire to know regarding
+the silent, because voiceless, inhabitants
+of the world of waters?</p>
+
+<p>But that which naturalists have
+been unable to accomplish, has, so
+far as concerns the two invaluable
+species just alluded to, been achieved
+by others with no pretension to the
+name; and we now propose to present
+our readers with a brief sketch of
+what we conceive to be the completed
+biography of salmon and sea-trout.
+In stating that our information has
+been almost entirely derived from
+the researches of practical men, we
+wish it to be understood, and shall
+afterwards endeavour to demonstrate,
+that these researches have, nevertheless,
+been conducted upon those inductive
+principles which are so often
+characteristic of natural acuteness of
+perception, when combined with candour
+of mind and honesty of purpose.
+We believe it to be the opinion of
+many, that statements by comparatively
+uneducated persons are less to be relied
+upon than those of men of science. It
+may, perhaps, be somewhat difficult
+to define in all cases what really constitutes
+a man of science. Many
+sensible people suppose, that if a person
+pursues an original truth, and
+obtains it&mdash;that is, if he ascertains a
+previously unknown or obscure fact of
+importance, and states his observations
+with intelligence&mdash;he is entitled to that
+character, whatever his station may be.
+For ourselves, we would even say that
+if his researches are truly valuable, he
+is himself all the more a man of science
+in proportion to the difficulties or disadvantages
+by which his position in
+life may be surrounded.</p>
+
+<p>The development and early growth
+of salmon, from the ovum to the smolt,
+were first successfully investigated by
+Mr John Shaw of Drumlanrig, one of
+the Duke of Buccleuch's gamekeepers
+in the south of Scotland. Its subsequent
+progress from the smolt to the
+adult condition, through the transitionary
+state of grilse, has been
+more recently traced, with corresponding
+care, by Mr Andrew Young of Invershin,
+the manager of the Duke of
+Sutherland's fisheries in the north.
+Although the fact of the parr being
+the young of the salmon had been
+vaguely surmised by many, and it was
+generally admitted that the smaller
+fish were never found to occur except
+in streams or tributaries to which the
+grown salmon had, in some way, the
+power of access, yet all who have
+any acquaintance with the works of
+naturalists, will acknowledge that the
+parr was universally described as a
+distinct species. It is equally certain
+that all who have written upon the
+subject of smolts or salmon-fry, maintained
+that these grew rapidly in fresh
+water, and made their way to the sea
+in the course of a few weeks after they
+were hatched.</p>
+
+<p>Now, Mr Shaw's discovery in relation
+to these matters is in a manner
+twofold; first&mdash;he ascertained by a
+lengthened series of rigorous and frequently-repeated
+experimental observations,
+that parr are the early state of
+salmon, being afterwards converted
+into smolts; secondly,&mdash;he proved that
+such conversion does not, under ordinary
+circumstances take place until the
+second spring ensuing that in which
+the hatching has occurred, by which
+time the young are <i>two years old</i>. The
+fact is, that during early spring there
+are three distinct broods of parr or
+young salmon in our rivers.</p>
+
+<p>1st, We have those which, recently
+excluded from the ova, are still invisible
+to common eyes; or, at least, are
+inconspicuous or unobservable. Being
+weak, in consequence of their recent
+emergence from the egg, and of extremely
+small dimensions, they are
+unable to withstand the rapid flow of
+water, and so betake themselves to the
+gentler eddies, and frequently enter
+&quot;into the small hollows produced in
+the shingle by the hoofs of horses
+which have passed the fords.&quot; In
+these and similar resting-places, our
+little natural philosophers, instinctively
+aware that the current of a stream
+is less below than above, and along
+the sides than in the centre, remain
+for several months during spring, and
+the earlier portion of the summer, till
+they gain such an increase of size and
+strength as enables them to spread
+themselves abroad over other portions
+of the river, especially those shallow
+places where the bottom is composed
+of fine gravel. But at this time their
+shy and shingle-seeking habits in a
+great measure screen them from the
+observance of the uninitiated.</p>
+
+<p>2dly, We have likewise, during the
+spring season, parr which have just
+completed their first year. As these
+have gained little or no accession of
+size during the winter months, owing
+to the low temperature both of the air
+and water, and the consequent deficiency
+of insect food, their dimensions
+are scarcely greater than at the end of
+the preceding October: that is, they
+measure in length little more than
+three inches.&mdash;(N.B. The old belief
+was that they grew nine inches in
+about three weeks, and as suddenly
+sought the turmoil of the sea.) They
+increase, however in size as the summer
+advances, and are then the declared
+and admitted parr of anglers and other
+men.</p>
+
+<p>3dly, Simultaneously with the two
+preceding broods, our rivers are inhabited
+during March and April by parr
+which have completed their second
+year. These measure six or seven
+inches in length, and in the months of
+April and May they assume the fine
+silvery aspect which characterizes their
+migratory condition,&mdash;in other words,
+they are converted into smolts, (the
+admitted fry of salmon,) and immediately
+make their way towards the sea.</p>
+
+<p>Now, the fundamental error which
+pervaded the views of previous observers
+of the subject, consisted in the
+sudden sequence which they chose to
+establish between the hatching of the
+ova in early spring, and the speedy
+appearance of the acknowledged salmon-fry
+in their lustrous dress of
+blue and silver. Observing, in the
+first place, the hatching of the ova,
+and, erelong, the seaward migration
+of the smolts, they imagined these two
+facts to take place in the relation of
+immediate or connected succession;
+whereas they had no more to do with
+each other than an infant in the nursery
+has to do with his elder, though
+not very ancient, brother, who may be
+going to school. The rapidity with
+which the two-year-old parr are converted
+into smolts, and the timid habits
+of the new-hatched fry, which
+render them almost entirely invisible
+during the first few months of their
+existence,&mdash;these two circumstances
+combined, have no doubt induced the
+erroneous belief that the silvery
+smolts were the actual produce of
+the very season in which they are
+first observed in their migratory dress:
+that is, that they were only a few
+weeks old, instead of being upwards
+of two years. It is certainly singular,
+however, that no enquirer of the old
+school should have ever bethought
+himself of the mysterious fate of the
+two-year-old parr, (supposing them
+not to be young salmon,) none of
+which, of course, are visible after the
+smolts have taken their departure to
+the sea. If the two fish, it may be
+asked, are not identical, how does it
+happen that the one so constantly disappears
+along with the other? Yet
+no one alleges that he has ever seen
+parr <i>as such</i>, making a journey towards
+the sea &quot;They cannot do
+so&quot; says Mr Shaw, &quot;because they
+have been previously converted into
+smolts.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr Shaw's investigations were carried
+on for a series of years, both on
+the fry as it existed naturally in the
+river, and on captive broods produced
+from ova deposited by adult salmon,
+and conveyed to ingeniously-constructed
+experimental ponds, in which
+the excluded young were afterwards
+nourished till they threw off the livery
+of the parr, and underwent their final
+conversion into smolts. When this
+latter change took place, the migratory
+instinct became so strong that
+many of them, after searching in vain
+to escape from their prison&mdash;the little
+streamlet of the pond being barred by
+fine wire gratings&mdash;threw themselves
+by a kind of parabolic somerset upon
+the bank and perished. But, previous
+to this, he had repeatedly observed and
+recorded the slowly progressive growth
+to which we have alluded. The value
+of the parr, then, and the propriety of
+a judicious application of our statutory
+regulations to the preservation of
+that small, and, as hitherto supposed,
+insignificant fish, will be obvious without
+further comment.<a name="footnotetag16" id="footnotetag16"></a><a href="#footnote16"><sup>16</sup></a></p>
+
+<p>Having now exhibited the progress
+of the salmon fry from the ovum to
+the smolt, our next step shall be to
+show the connexion of the latter with
+the grilse. As no experimental observations
+regarding the future dimensions
+of the <i>d&eacute;tenus</i> of the ponds could
+be regarded as legitimate in relation
+to the usual increase of the species,
+(any more than we could judge of the
+growth of a young English guardsman
+in the prisons of Verdun,) after the
+period of their natural migration to
+the sea, and as Mr Shaw's distance
+from the salt water&mdash;twenty-five miles,
+we believe, windings included&mdash;debarred
+his carrying on his investigations
+much further with advantage, he
+wisely turned his attention to a different,
+though cognate subject, to which
+we shall afterwards refer. We are,
+however, fortunately enabled to proceed
+with our history of the adolescent
+salmon by means of another ingenious
+observer already named, Mr
+Andrew Young of Invershin.</p>
+
+<p>It had always been the prevailing
+belief that smolts grew rapidly into
+grilse, and the latter into salmon.
+But as soon as we became assured of
+the gross errors of naturalists, and
+all other observers, regarding the progress
+of the fry in fresh water, and
+how a few weeks had been substituted
+for a period of a couple of years, it
+was natural that considerate people
+should suspect that equal errors might
+pervade the subsequent history of this
+important species. It appears, however,
+that <i>marine</i> influence (in whatever
+way it works) does indeed exercise
+a most extraordinary effect upon
+those migrants from our upland
+streams, and that the extremely rapid
+transit of a smolt to a grilse, and of
+the latter to an adult salmon, is strictly
+true. Although Mr Young's labours
+in this department differ from Mr
+Shaw's, in being rather confirmatory
+than original, we consider them of
+great value, as reducing the subject to
+a systematic form, and impressing it
+with the force and clearness of the
+most successful demonstration.</p>
+
+<p>Mr Young's first experiments were
+commenced as far back as 1836, and
+were originally undertaken with a
+view to show whether the salmon of
+each particular river, after descending
+to the sea, returned again to their original
+spawning-beds, or whether,
+as some supposed, the main body, returning
+coastwards from their feeding
+grounds in more distant parts of the
+ocean, and advancing along our island
+shores, were merely thrown into, or
+induced to enter, estuaries and rivers
+by accidental circumstances; and that
+the numbers obtained in these latter
+localities thus depended mainly on
+wind and weather, or other physical
+conditions, being suitable to their upward
+progress at the time of their
+nearing the mouths of the fresher
+waters. To settle this point, he caught
+and marked all the spawned fish which
+he could obtain in the course of the
+winter months during their sojourn in
+the rivers. As soon as he had hauled
+the fish ashore, he made peculiar
+marks in their caudal fins by means
+of a pair of nipping-irons, and immediately
+threw then back into the
+water. In the course of the following
+fishing season great numbers were
+recaptured on their return from the
+sea, each in its own river bearing its
+peculiar mark. &quot;We have also,&quot;
+Mr Young informs us, &quot;another
+proof of the fact, that the different
+breeds or races of salmon continue to
+revisit their native streams. You are
+aware that the river Shin falls into the
+Oykel at Invershin, and that the conjoined
+waters of these rivers, with the
+Carron and other streams, form the
+estuary of the Oykel, which flows
+into the more open sea beyond, or
+eastwards of the bar, below the Gizzen
+Brigs. Now, were the salmon
+which enter the mouth of the estuary
+at the bar thrown in merely by accident
+or chance, we should expect to
+find the fish of all the various rivers
+which form the estuary of the same
+average weight; for, if it were a mere
+matter of chance, then a mixture of
+small and great would occur indifferently
+in each of the interior streams.
+But the reverse of this is the case.
+The salmon in the Shin will average
+from seventeen pounds to eighteen
+pounds in weight, while those of the
+Oykel scarcely attain an average of
+half that weight. I am, therefore,
+quite satisfied, as well by having
+marked spawned fish descending to
+the sea, and caught them ascending
+the same river, and bearing that river's
+mark, as by a long-continued general
+observation of the weight, size, and
+even something of the form, that
+every river has its own breed, and
+that breed continues, till captured and
+killed, to return from year to year
+into its native stream.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>We have heard of a partial exception
+to this instinctive habit, which,
+however, essentially confirms the rule.
+We are informed that a Shin salmon
+(recognized as such by its shape and
+size) was, on a certain occasion, captured
+in the river Conon, a fine stream which
+flows into the upper portion of the neighbouring
+Frith of Cromarty. It was marked
+and returned to the river, and was
+taken <i>next day</i> in its native stream
+the Shin, having, on discovering its mistake,
+descended the Cromarty Frith,
+skirted the intermediate portion of
+the outer coast by Tarbet Ness, and ascended
+the estuary of the Oykel. The
+distance may be about sixty miles. On
+the other hand, we are informed by a
+Sutherland correspondent of a fact of
+another nature, which bears strongly
+upon the pertinacity with which these
+fine fish endeavour to regain their
+spawning ground. By the side of the
+river Helmsdale there was once a portion
+of an old channel forming an angular
+bend with the actual river. In
+summer, it was only partially filled
+by a detached or landlocked pool,
+but in winter, a more lively communication
+was renewed by the superabounding
+waters. This old channel
+was, however, not only resorted to by
+salmon as a piece of spawning ground
+during the colder season of the year,
+but was sought for again instinctively
+in summer during their upward migration,
+when there was no water running
+through it. The fish being, of
+course, unable to attain their object,
+have been seen, after various aerial
+boundings, to fall, in the course of
+their exertions, upon the dry gravel
+bank between the river and the pool
+of water, where they were picked up
+by the considerate natives.</p>
+
+<p>No sooner had Mr Young satisfied
+himself that the produce of a river invariably
+returned to that river after
+descending to the sea, than he commenced
+his operations upon the smolts&mdash;taking
+up the subject where it was
+unavoidably left off by Mr Shaw<a name="footnotetag17" id="footnotetag17"></a><a href="#footnote17"><sup>17</sup></a>.
+His long-continued superintendence
+of the Duke of Sutherland's fisheries in
+the north of Scotland, and his peculiar
+position as residing almost within
+a few yards of the noted river Shin,
+afforded advantages of which he was
+not slow to make assiduous use. He
+has now performed numerous and
+varied experiments, and finds that,
+notwithstanding the slow growth of
+parr in fresh water, &quot;such is the
+influence of the sea as a more
+enlarged and salubrious sphere of life,
+that the very smolts which descend
+into it from the rivers in spring,
+ascend into the fresh waters in the
+course of the immediate summer as
+grilse, varying in size in proportion
+to the length of their stay in
+salt water.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For example, in the spring of 1837,
+Mr Young marked a great quantity of
+descending smolts, by making a perforation
+in their caudal fins with a
+small pair of nipping-irons constructed
+for the purpose, and in the ensuing
+months of June and July he recaptured
+a considerable number on their
+return to the rivers, all in the condition
+of grilse, and varying from 3lbs.
+to 8lbs., &quot;according to the time which
+had elapsed since their first departure
+from the fresh water, or, in other
+words, the length of their sojourn in
+the sea.&quot; In the spring of 1842, he
+likewise marked a number of descending
+smolts, by clipping off what is
+called the adipose fin upon the back.
+In the course of the ensuing June and
+July, he caught them returning up
+the river, bearing his peculiar mark,
+and agreeing with those of 1837 both
+in respect to size, and the relation
+which that size bore to the lapse
+of time.</p>
+
+<p>The following list from Mr Young's
+note-book, affords a few examples of
+the rate of growth:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>List of Smolts marked in the River, and recaptured as Grilse on their first ascent
+from the Sea.</i></p>
+
+<table summary="" border class="blkquot">
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;Period of marking.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;Period of recapture.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;Weight when retaken.&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;1842. April and May.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">1842. June 28.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lb.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">July 15.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">5 lb</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">15.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">5 lb.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">25.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">7 lb.<a name="footnotetag18" id="footnotetag18"></a><a href="#footnote18"><sup>18</sup></a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">25.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">5 lb.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">30.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">3&frac12; lb.<a href="#footnote18"><sup>18</sup></a></td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>We may now proceed to consider
+the final change,&mdash;that of the grilse
+into the adult salmon. We have just
+seen that smolts return to the rivers
+as grilse, (of the weights above noted,)
+during the summer and autumn of the
+same season in which they had descended
+for the first time to the sea.
+Such as seek the rivers in the earlier part
+of summer are of small size, because
+they have sojourned for but a short
+time in the sea:&mdash;such as abide in the
+sea till autumn, attain of course a larger
+size. But it appears to be an established,
+though till now an unknown
+fact, that with the exception of the
+early state of parr, in which the growth
+has been shown to be extremely slow,
+salmon actually never do grow in fresh
+water at all, either as grilse or in the
+adult state. All their growth in these
+two most important later stages, takes
+place during their sojourn in the sea.
+&quot;Not only,&quot; says Mr Young, &quot;is this
+the case, but I have also ascertained
+that they actually decrease in dimensions
+after entering the river, and that
+the higher they ascend the more they
+deteriorate both in weight and quality.
+In corroboration of this I may refer to
+the extensive fisheries of the Duke of
+Sutherland, where the fish of each
+station of the same river are kept distinct
+from those of another station, and
+where we have had ample proof that
+salmon habitually decrease in weight
+in proportion to their time and distance
+from the sea.&quot;<a name="footnotetag19" id="footnotetag19"></a><a href="#footnote19"><sup>19</sup></a></p>
+
+<p>Mr Young commenced marking grilses,
+with a view to ascertain that they
+became salmon, as far back as 1837,
+and has continued to do so ever since,
+though never two seasons with the
+same mark. We shall here record only
+the results of the two preceding years.
+In the spring of 1841, he marked a
+number of spawned grilse soon after
+the conclusion of the spawning period.
+Taking his &quot;net and coble,&quot; he fished
+the river for the special purpose, and
+all the spawned grilse of 4 lb. weight
+were marked by putting a peculiarly
+twisted piece of wire through the dorsal
+fin. They were immediately thrown
+into the river, and of course disappeared,
+making their way downwards with
+other spawned fish towards the sea.
+&quot;In the course of the next summer we
+again caught several of those fish which
+we had thus marked with wire as 4 lb.
+grilse, grown in the short period of
+four or five months into beautiful full-formed
+salmon, ranging from 9 lb. to
+14 lb. in weight, the difference still
+depending on the length of their sojourn
+in the sea.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In January 1842, he repeated the
+same process of marking 4 lb. grilse
+which had spawned, and were therefore
+about to seek the sea; but, instead of
+placing the wire in the back fin, he
+this year fixed it in the upper lobe of
+the tail, or caudal fin. On their return
+from the sea, he caught many of these
+quondam grilse converted into salmon
+as before. The following lists will
+serve to illustrate the rate of growth:&mdash;</p>
+<br>
+
+<p><i>List of Grilse marked after having spawned, and re-captured as Salmon, on their
+second ascent from the Sea.</i></p>
+
+<table summary="" border align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;Period of marking.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;Period of recapture.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;Weight when marked.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;Weight when retaken.&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">1841. Feb. 18.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">1841. June 23.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">9 lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">18.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">23.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">11 lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">18.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">25.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">9 lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">18.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">25.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">10 lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">18.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">July 27.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">13 lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">18.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">28.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">10 lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">March 4.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">July 1.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">12 lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">4.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">1.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">14 lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">4.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">27.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">12 lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">1842. Jan. 29.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">1842. July 4.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">8 lbs.<a name="footnotetag20" id="footnotetag20"></a><a href="#footnote20"><sup>20</sup></a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">29.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">14.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">9 lbs.<a href="#footnote20"><sup>20</sup></a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">29.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">14.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">8 lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">March 8.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">23.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">9 lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">Jan. 29.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">29.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">11 lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">March 8.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">Aug. 4.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">10 lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">Jan. 29.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">11.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">4 lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">12 lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>During both these seasons, Mr
+Young informs us, he caught far more
+marked grilse returning with the form
+and attributes of perfect salmon, than
+are recorded in the preceding lists.
+&quot;In many specimens the wires had
+been torn from the fins, either by the
+action of the nets or other casualties;
+and, although I could myself recognise
+distinctly that they were the fish I had
+marked, I kept no note of them. All
+those recorded in my lists returned and
+were captured with the twisted wires
+complete, the same as the specimens
+transmitted for your examination.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>We agree with Mr Young in thinking
+that the preceding facts, viewed in
+connexion with Mr Shaw's prior observations,
+entitle us to say, that we
+are now well acquainted with the history
+and habits of the salmon, and its
+usual rate of growth from the ovum to
+the adult state. The young are hatched
+after a period which admits of considerable
+range, according to the temperature
+of the season, or the modifying
+character of special localities.<a name="footnotetag21" id="footnotetag21"></a><a href="#footnote21"><sup>21</sup></a> They
+usually burst the capsule of the egg in
+90 to 100 days after deposition, but
+they still continue for a considerable
+time beneath the gravel, with the yelk
+or vitelline portion of the egg adhering
+to the body; and from this appendage,
+which Mr Shaw likens to a red currant,
+they probably derive their sole
+nourishment for several weeks. But
+though the lapse of 140 or even 150
+days from the period of deposition is
+frequently required to perfect the form
+of these little fishes, which even then
+measure scarcely more than an inch in
+length, their subsequent growth is still
+extremely slow; and the silvery aspect
+of the smolt is seldom assumed till
+after the expiry of a couple of years.
+The great mass of these smolts descend
+to the sea during the months of April
+and May,&mdash;the varying range of the
+spawning and hatching season carrying
+with it a somewhat corresponding
+range in the assumption of the first
+signal change, and the consequent
+movement to the sea. They return
+under the greatly enlarged form of
+grilse, as already stated, and these
+grilse spawn that same season in common
+with the salmon, and then both
+the one and the other re-descend into
+the sea in the course of the winter or
+ensuing spring. They all return again
+to the rivers sooner or later, in accordance,
+as we believe, with the
+time they had previously left it after
+spawning, early or late. The grilse
+have now become salmon by the time
+of their second ascent from the sea;
+and no further change takes place in
+their character or attributes, except
+that such as survive the snares of the
+fishermen, the wily chambers of the
+cruives, the angler's gaudy hook, or
+the poacher's spear, continue to increase
+in size from year to year. Such,
+however, is now the perfection of our
+fisheries, and the facilities for conveying
+this princely species even from our
+northern rivers, and the &quot;distant islands
+of the sea,&quot; to the luxurious cities
+of more populous districts, that we
+greatly doubt if any salmon ever attains
+a good old age, or is allowed to
+die a natural death. We are not possessed
+of sufficient data from which to
+judge either of their natural term of
+life, or of their ultimate increase of
+size. They are occasionally, though
+rarely, killed in Britain of the weight
+of forty and even fifty pounds. In the
+comparatively unfished rivers of
+Scandinavia large salmon are much more
+frequent, although the largest we ever
+heard of was an English fish which
+came into the possession of Mr Groves,
+of Bond Street. It was a female, and
+weighed eighty-three pounds. In the
+year 1841, Mr Young marked a few
+spawned salmon along with his grilse,
+employing as a distinctive mark copper
+wire instead of brass. One of
+these, weighing twelve pounds, was
+marked on the 4th of March, and was
+recaptured on returning from the sea
+on the 10th of July, weighing eighteen
+pounds. But as we know not whether
+it made its way to the sea immediately
+after being marked, we cannot accurately
+infer the rate of increase. It
+probably becomes slower every year,
+after the assumption of the adult state.
+Why the salmon of one river should
+greatly exceed the average weight of
+those of another into which it flows, is
+a problem which we cannot solve.
+The fact, for example, of the river
+Shin flowing from a large lake, with a
+course of only a few miles, into the
+Oykel, although it accounts for its
+being an <i>early</i> river, owing to the receptive
+depth, and consequently higher
+temperature of its great nursing mother,
+Loch Shin, in no way, so far at
+least as we can see, explains the great
+size of the Shin fish, which are taken
+in scores of twenty pounds' weight.
+They have little or nothing to do with
+the loch itself, haunting habitually the
+brawling stream, and spawning in the
+shallower fords, at some distance up,
+but still below the great basin;<a name="footnotetag22" id="footnotetag22"></a><a href="#footnote22"><sup>22</sup></a> and
+there are no physical peculiarities
+which in any way distinguish the Shin
+from many other lake born northern
+rivers, where salmon do not average
+half the size.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the country of the <i>Morer
+Chatt</i> (the Celtic title of the Earls of
+Sutherland) we shall now return to
+the retainer of the &quot;bold Buccleuch.&quot;
+We have already mentioned that Mr
+Shaw, having so successfully illustrated
+the early history of salmon, next turned
+his attention to a cognate subject,
+that of the sea-trout (<i>Salmo-trutta</i>?)
+Although no positive observations of
+any value, anterior to those now before
+us, had been made upon this species,
+it is obvious that as soon as his discoveries
+regarding salmon fry had afforded,
+as it were, the key to this portion
+of nature's secrets, it was easy for any
+one to infer that the old notions regarding
+the former fish were equally
+erroneous. Various modifications of
+these views took place accordingly; but
+no one ascertained the truth by observation.
+Mr Shaw was, therefore, entitled
+to proceed as if the matter were
+solely in his own hands; and he makes
+no mention either of the &quot;vain imaginations&quot;
+of Dr Knox, the more careful
+compilation of Mr Yarrell, or the still
+closer, but by no means approximate
+calculations of Richard Parnell, M.D.
+In this he has acted wisely, seeing that
+his own essay professes to be simply
+a statement of facts, and not an
+historical exposition of the progress of
+error.</p>
+
+<p>It would, indeed, have been singular
+if two species, in many respects so
+closely allied in their general structure
+any economy, had been found to differ
+very materially in any essential point.
+It now appears, however, that Mr
+Shaw's original discovery of the slow
+growth of salmon fry in fresh water,
+applies equally to sea trout; and, indeed,
+his observations on the latter are valuable
+not only in themselves, but as confirmatory
+of his remarks upon the former
+species. The same principle has
+been found to regulate the growth and
+migrations of both, and Mr Shaw's two
+contributions thus mutually strengthen
+and support each other.</p>
+
+<p>The sea trout is well known to
+anglers as one of the liveliest of all the
+fishes subject to his lure. Two species
+are supposed by naturalists to haunt
+our rivers&mdash;<i>Salmo eriox</i>, the bull
+trout of the Tweed, comparatively
+rare on the western and northern
+coasts of Scotland, and <i>Salmo trutta</i>,
+commonly called the sea or white trout,
+but, like the other species, also known
+under a variety of provincial names,
+somewhat vaguely applied. In its various
+and progressive stages, it passes
+under the names of fry, smolt, orange-fin,
+phinock, herling, whitling, sea-trout,
+and salmon-trout. It is likewise
+the &quot;Fordwich trout&quot; of Izaak Walton,
+described by that poetical old piscator
+as &quot;rare good meat.&quot; As an
+article of diet it indeed ranks next
+to the salmon, and is much superior
+in that respect to its near relation,
+<i>S. eriox</i>. It is taken in the more
+seaward pools of our northern rivers,
+sometimes in several hundreds at
+a single haul; and vast quantities,
+after being boiled, and hermetically
+sealed in tin cases, are extensively
+consumed both in our home
+and foreign markets. But, notwithstanding
+its great commercial value,
+naturalists have failed to present us
+with any accurate account of its consecutive
+history from the ovum to the
+adult state. This desideratum we are
+now enabled to supply through Mr
+Shaw.</p>
+
+<p>On the 1st of November 1839, this
+ingenious observer perceived a pair of
+sea-trouts engaged together in depositing
+their spawn among the gravel of
+one of the tributaries of the river
+Nith, and being unprovided at the
+moment with any apparatus for their
+capture, he had recourse to his fowling-piece.
+Watching the moment
+when they lay parallel to each other,
+he fired across the heads of the devoted
+pair, and immediately secured
+them both, although, as it afterwards
+appeared, rather by the influence of
+concussion than the more immediate
+action of the shot. They were about
+six inches under water. Having obtained
+a sufficient supply of the impregnated
+spawn, he removed it in a
+bag of wire gauze to his experimental
+ponds. At this period the temperature
+of the water was about 47&deg;, but
+in the course of the winter it ranged
+a few degrees lower. By the fortieth
+day the embryo fish were visible to the
+naked eye, and, on the 14th January,
+(seventy-five days after deposition,)
+the fry were excluded from the egg.
+At this early period, the brood exhibit
+no perceptible difference from that of
+the salmon, except that they are somewhat
+smaller, and of paler hue. In
+two months they were an inch long,
+and had then assumed those lateral
+markings so characteristic of the young
+of all the known <i>Salmonid&aelig;</i>. They
+increased in size slowly, measuring
+only three inches in length by the
+month of October, at which time they
+were nine months old. In January
+1841, they had increased to three and
+a half inches, exhibiting a somewhat
+defective condition during the winter
+months, in one or more of which, Mr
+Shaw seems to think, they scarcely
+grow at all. We need not here go
+through the entire detail of these experiments.<a name="footnotetag23" id="footnotetag23"></a><a href="#footnote23"><sup>23</sup></a>
+In October (twenty-one
+months) they measured six inches in
+length, and had lost those lateral bars,
+or transverse markings, which characterise
+the general family in their early
+state. At this period they greatly
+resembled certain varieties of the
+common river-trout, and the males
+had now attained the age of sexual
+completion, although none of the females
+had matured the roe. This physiological
+fact is also observable in the
+true salmon. In the month of May,
+three-fourths of the brood (being now
+upwards of two years old, and seven
+inches long) assumed the fine clear
+silvery lustre which characterises the
+migratory condition, being thus converted
+into smolts, closely resembling
+those of salmon in their general aspect,
+although easily to be distinguished by
+the orange tips of the pectoral fins,
+and other characters with which we
+shall not here afflict our readers.</p>
+
+<p>The natural economy of the sea-trout
+thus far approximates that of the
+genuine salmon, but with the following
+exception. Mr Shaw is of opinion
+that about one-fourth of each brood
+never assume the silvery lustre; and,
+as they are never seen to migrate in a
+dusky state towards the sea, he infers
+that a certain portion of the species
+may be permanent residents in fresh
+water.<a name="footnotetag24" id="footnotetag24"></a><a href="#footnote24"><sup>24</sup></a> In this respect, then, they
+resemble the river-trout, and afford an
+example of those numerous gradations,
+both of form and instinct, which compose
+the harmonious chain of nature's
+perfect kingdom. In support of this
+power of adaptation to fresh water
+possessed by sea-trout, Mr Shaw refers
+to a statement by the late Dr McCulloch,
+that these fish had become permanent
+inhabitants of a loch in the
+island of Lismore, Argyllshire. Similar
+facts have been recorded by other naturalists,
+though, upon the whole, in a
+somewhat vague and inconclusive
+manner. We have it in our power
+to mention a very marked example.
+When certain springs were conducted,
+about twenty years ago, from the
+slopes of the Pentland Hills, near
+Edinburgh, into that city, which Dr
+Johnson regarded as by no means
+abundantly supplied with the &quot;pure
+element of water,&quot; it was necessary to
+compensate the mill-owners by another
+supply. Accordingly a valley,
+(the supposed scene of Allan Ramsay's
+&quot;Gentle Shepherd,&quot;) through which
+there flowed a small stream, had a
+great embankment thrown across it.
+After this operation, of course the
+waters of the upper portion of the
+stream speedily rose to a level with
+the sluices, thus forming a small lake,
+commonly called the &quot;Compensation
+Pond.&quot; The flow of water now escapes
+by throwing itself over the outer
+side of the embankment, which is lofty
+and precipitous, in the form of a cataract,
+up which no fish can possibly
+ascend. Yet in the pond itself we
+have recently ascertained the existence
+of sea-trout in a healthy state, although
+such as we have examined,
+being young, were of small size.
+These attributes, however, were all
+the more important as proving the
+breeding condition of the parents in
+a state of prolonged captivity. It is
+obvious that sea-trout must have made
+their way (in fulfilment of their natural
+migratory instinct) into the higher
+portions of the stream prior to the
+completion of the obstructing dam;
+and as none could have ascended since,
+it follows that the individuals in question
+(themselves and their descendants)
+must have lived and bred in fresh
+water, without access to the sea, for a
+continuous period of nearly twenty
+years. This is not only a curious
+fact in the natural history of the species,
+but it is one of some importance
+in an economical point of view. Sea-trout,
+as an article of diet, are much
+more valuable than river-trout; and
+if it can be ascertained that they breed
+freely, and live healthily, without the
+necessity of access to the sea, it would
+then become the duty, as it would
+doubtless be the desire, of those
+engaged in the construction of artificial
+ponds, to stock those receptacles rather
+with the former than the latter.<a name="footnotetag25" id="footnotetag25"></a><a href="#footnote25"><sup>25</sup></a></p>
+
+<p>Having narrated the result of Mr
+Shaw's experiment up to the migratory
+state of his brood, we shall now
+refer to the further progress of the
+species. This, of course, we can only
+do by turning our attention to the
+corresponding condition of the fry in
+their natural places in the river. So
+far back as the 9th of May 1836, our
+observer noticed salmon fry descending
+seawards, and he took occasion to
+capture a considerable number by
+admitting them into the salmon cruive.
+On examination, he found about
+one-fifth of each shoal to be what he
+considered sea-trout. Wisely regarding
+this as a favourable opportunity of
+ascertaining to what extent they would
+afterwards &quot;suffer a sea change,&quot; he
+marked all the smolts of that species
+(about ninety in number) by cutting
+off the whole of the adipose fin, and
+three-quarters of the dorsal. At a
+distance, by the course of the river,
+of twenty-five miles from the sea, he
+was not sanguine of recapturing many
+of these individuals, and in this expectation
+he was not agreeably surprised
+by any better success than he expected.
+However, on the 16th of July,
+exactly eighty days afterwards, he recaptured
+as a <i>herling</i> (the next progressive
+stage) an individual bearing
+the marks he had inflicted on the
+young sea-trout in the previous May.
+It measured twelve inches in length,
+and weighed ten ounces. As the average
+weight of the migrating fry is
+about three and a half ounces, it had
+thus gained an increase of six and a
+half ounces in about eighty days' residence
+in salt water, supposing it to
+have descended to the sea immediately
+after its markings were imposed. In
+this condition of herlings or phinocks,
+young sea-trout enter many of our
+rivers in great abundance in the
+months of July and August.</p>
+
+<p>On the 1st of August 1837&mdash;fifteen
+months after being marked as fry, on
+its way to the sea&mdash;another individual
+was caught, and recognised by the absence
+of one fin, and the curtailment
+of another. This specimen, as well as
+others, had no doubt returned, and escaped
+detection as a herling, in 1836;
+but it was born for greater things,
+and when captured, as above stated,
+weighed two pounds and a half. &quot;He
+may be supposed,&quot; says Mr Shaw, &quot;to
+represent pretty correctly the average
+size of sea-trout on their second migration
+from the sea.&quot; In this state they
+usually make their appearance in our
+rivers, (we refer at present particularly
+to those of Scotland,) in greatest abundance
+in the months of May and June.
+This view of the progress of the species
+clearly accounts for a fact well
+known to anglers, that in spring and
+the commencement of summer, larger
+sea-trout are caught than in July and
+August, which would not be the case
+if they were all fish of the same season.
+But the former are herlings
+which have descended, after spawning
+early, to the sea, and returned with the
+increase just mentioned; the latter were
+nothing more than smolts in May, and
+have only once enjoyed the benefit of
+sea bathing. They are a year younger
+than the others.</p>
+
+<p>As herlings (sea-trout in their third
+year) abounded in the river Nith during
+the summer of 1834, Mr Shaw
+marked a great number (524) by cutting
+off the adipose fin. &quot;During the
+following summer (1835) I recaptured
+sixty-eight of the above number
+as sea-trout, weighing on an average
+about two and a half pounds. On these
+I put a second distinct mark, and again
+returned them to the river, and on the
+next ensuing summer (1836) I recaptured
+a portion of them, about one
+in twenty, averaging a weight of four
+pounds. I now marked them distinctively
+for the third time, and once
+more returned them to the river, also
+for the third time. On the following
+season (23d day of August 1837) I
+recaptured the individual now exhibited,
+for the fourth time.<a name="footnotetag26" id="footnotetag26"></a><a href="#footnote26"><sup>26</sup></a> It then
+weighed six pounds.&quot; This is indeed
+an eventful history, and we question if
+any <i>Salmo trutta</i> ever before felt himself
+so often out of his element. However,
+the individual referred to must
+undoubtedly be regarded as extremely
+interesting to the naturalist. It exhibits,
+at a single glance, the various
+marks put upon itself and its companions,
+as they were successively recaptured,
+from year to year, on their
+return to the river&mdash;viz. 1st, The absence
+of the adipose fin, (herling of ten
+or twelve ounces in 1834;) 2dly, One-third
+part of the dorsal fin removed,
+(sea-trout of two and a half pounds in
+1835;) 3dly, A portion of the anal fin
+clipt off (large sea-trout of four pounds
+in 1836). In the 4th and last place, it
+shows, in its own proper person, as
+leader of the forlorn hope of 1837, the
+state in which it was finally captured
+and killed, of the weight of six pounds.
+It was then in its sixth year, and, representing
+the adult condition of this
+migratory species, we think it renders
+further investigation unnecessary.</p>
+
+<p>From these and other experiments
+of a similar nature, which Mr Shaw
+has been conducting for many years,
+he has come to the conclusion, that
+the small fry called &quot;Orange-fins,&quot;
+which are found journeying to the sea
+with smolts of the true salmon, are the
+young of sea-trout of the age of two
+years;&mdash;that the same individuals, after
+nine or ten weeks' sojourn in salt
+water, ascend the rivers as herlings,
+weighing ten or twelve ounces and on
+the approach of autumn pass into our
+smaller tributaries with a view to the
+continuance of their kind;&mdash;that, having
+spawned, they re-descend into the
+sea, where their increase of size (about
+one and a half pound per annum) is
+almost totally obtained;&mdash;and that they
+return annually, with an accession of
+size, for several seasons, to the rivers
+in which their parents gave them birth.
+In proof of this last point, Mr Shaw
+informs us, that of the many hundred
+sea-trout of different ages which he
+has marked in various modes, he is not
+aware that even a single individual
+has ever found its way into any tributary
+of the Solway, saving that of the
+river Nith.</p>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+
+<a name="bw329s8" id="bw329s8"></a><h2>CALEB STUKELY.</h2>
+
+<h3>PART THE LAST.</h3>
+
+<h3>TRANQUILITY.</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>The sudden and unlooked-for appearance
+of James Temple threw light
+upon a mystery. Further explanation
+awaited me in the house from which
+the unfortunate man had rushed to
+meet instant death and all its consequences.
+It will be remembered that,
+in the narrative of his victim, mention
+is made of one Mrs Wybrow, with
+whom the poor girl, upon the loss of
+her father and of all means of support,
+obtained a temporary home. It
+appeared that Fredrick Harrington,
+a few months after his flight, returned
+secretly to the village, and, at the
+house of that benevolent woman, made
+earnest application for his sister. He
+was then excited and half insane,
+speaking extravagantly of his views
+and his intentions in respect of her he
+came to take away. &quot;She should be
+a duchess,&quot; he said, &quot;and must take
+precedence of every lady in the land.
+He was a king himself and could command
+it so. He could perform wonders,
+if he chose to use the power
+with which he was invested; but he
+would wait until his sister might reap
+the benefit of his acquired wealth.&quot; In
+this strain he continued, alarming the
+placid Mrs Wybrow, who knew not
+what to do to moderate the wildness
+and the vehemence of his demeanour.
+Hoping, however, to appease him, she
+told him of the good fortune of his sister&mdash;how
+she had obtained a happy
+home, and how grateful he ought to
+be to Providence for its kind care of
+her. Much more she said, only to
+increase the anger of the man, whose
+insane pride was roused to fury the
+moment that he heard his sister was
+doomed to eat the bread of a dependent.
+He disdained the assistance of
+Mrs Temple&mdash;swore it was an artifice,
+a cheat, and that he would drag her
+from the net into which they had enticed
+her. When afterwards he learned
+that it was through the mediation
+of James Temple that his sister had
+been provided for, the truth burst instantly
+upon him, and he foresaw at
+once all that actually took place. He
+vowed that he would become himself
+the avenger of his sister, and that he
+would not let her betrayer sleep until he
+had wrung from him deep atonement
+for his crime. It was in vain that Mrs
+Wybrow sought to convince him of
+his delusion. He would not be advised&mdash;he
+would not listen&mdash;he would
+not linger another moment in the
+house, but quitted it, wrought to the
+highest pitch of rage, and speaking
+only of vengeance on the seducer. He
+set out for London. Mrs Wybrow,
+agitated more than she had been at
+any time since her birth, and herself
+almost deprived of reason by her fears
+for the safety of Miss Harrington,
+James Temple, and the furious lunatic
+himself, wrote immediately to Emma,
+then resident in Cambridge, explaining
+the sad condition of her brother,
+and warning her of his approach&mdash;Emma
+having already (without acquainting
+Mrs Wybrow with her fallen
+state) forwarded her address, with a
+strict injunction to her humble friend
+to convey to her all information of her
+absent brother which she could possibly
+obtain. The threatened danger
+was communicated to the lover&mdash;darkened
+his days for a time with
+anxiety and dread, but ceased as time
+wore on, and as no visitant appeared
+to affect the easy tenor of his immoral
+life. The reader will not have forgotten,
+perhaps, that when for the
+first time I beheld James Temple, he
+was accompanied by an elder brother.
+It was from the latter, his friend and
+confidant, that the above particulars,
+and those which follow in respect of
+the deceased, were gathered. The
+house in which, for a second time, I
+encountered my ancient college friends,
+was their uncle's. Parents they had
+none. Of father and of mother both
+they had been deprived in infancy;
+and, from that period, their home had
+been with their relative and guardian.
+The conduct of one charge, at least,
+had been from boyhood such as to
+cause the greatest pain to him who
+had assumed a parent's cares. Hypocrisy,
+sensuality, and&mdash;for his years
+and social station&mdash;unparalleled dishonesty,
+had characterised James
+Temple's short career. By some inexplicable
+tortuosity of mind, with
+every natural endowment, with every
+acquired advantage, graced with the
+borrowed as well as native ornaments
+of humanity, he found no joy in his
+inheritance, but sacrificed it all, and
+crawled through life a gross and
+earthy man. The seduction of Emma,
+young as he was when he committed
+that offence, was, by many, not the
+first crime for which&mdash;not, thank Heaven!
+without some preparation for his
+trial&mdash;he was called suddenly to answer.
+As a boy, he had grown aged
+is vice. It has been stated that he
+quitted the university the very instant
+he disencumbered himself of the girl
+whom he had sacrificed. He crept to
+the metropolis, and for a time there
+hid himself. But it was there that he
+was discovered by Frederick Harrington,
+who had pursued the destroyer
+with a perseverance that was indomitable,
+and scoffed at disappointment.
+How the lunatic existed no one knew;
+how he steered clear of transgression
+and restraint was equally difficult to
+explain. It was evident enough that
+he made himself acquainted with the
+haunts of his former schoolfellow;
+and, in one of them, he rushed furiously
+and unexpectedly upon him,
+affrighting his intended victim, but
+failing in his purpose of vengeance by
+the very impetuosity of his assault.
+Temple escaped. Then it was that
+the latter, shaken by fear, revealed to
+his brother the rise of progress of
+his intimacy with the discarded girl,
+and, in his extremity, called upon him
+for advice and help. He could afford
+him none; and the seducer found himself
+in the world without an hour's
+happiness or quiet. What quails so
+readily as the heartiest soul of the
+sensualist? Who so cowardly as the
+man only courageous in his oppression
+of the weak? The spirit of Temple
+was laid prostrate. He walked, and
+eat, and slept, in base and dastard fear.
+Locks and bolts could not secure him
+from dismal apprehensions. A sound
+shook him, as the unseen wind makes
+the tall poplar shudder&mdash;a voice struck
+terror in his ear, and sickness to
+recreant heart. He could not be
+alone&mdash;for alarm was heightened by
+the speaking conscience that pronounced
+it just. He journeyed from
+place to place, his brother ever at his
+side, and the shadow of the avenger
+ever stalking in the rear, and impelling
+the weary wanderer still onward.
+The health of the sufferer gave way.
+To preserve his life, he was ordered
+to the south-western coast. His faithful
+brother was his companion still.
+He had not received a week's benefit
+from the mild and grateful climate&mdash;he
+was scarcely settled in the tranquil
+village in which they had fixed their
+residence, before the old terror was
+made manifest, and hunted the unhappy
+man away. Whilst sitting at
+his window, and gazing with something
+of delight upon the broad and
+smooth blue sea&mdash;for who can look,
+criminal though he be, upon that glorious
+sheet in summer time, when the
+sky is bright with beauty, and the golden
+sun is high, and not lose somewhat of
+the heavy sense of guilt&mdash;not glow, it
+may be, with returning gush of
+childhood's innocence, long absent,
+and coming now only to reproach and
+then depart?&mdash;whilst sitting there and
+thus, the sick man's notice was invited
+to a crowd of yelling boys, who
+had amongst them one, the tallest of
+their number, whom they dragged
+along for punishment or sport. He
+was an idiot. Who he was none
+knew so well as the pale man that
+looked upon him, who could not drag
+his eye away, so lost was it in wonder,
+so transfixed with horror. The
+invalid remained no longer there.
+Fast as horses could convey him, he
+journeyed homeward; and, in the bosom
+of his natural protectors, he
+sought for peace he could not gain
+elsewhere. Here he remained, the
+slave of fear, the conscience-stricken,
+diseased in body&mdash;almost spent; and
+here he would have died, had not
+Providence directed the impotent
+mind of the imbecile to the spot, and
+willed it otherwise. I have narrated,
+as shortly as I might, the history of
+my earliest college friend, as I received
+it from his brother's lips. There remain
+but a few words to say&mdash;the
+pleasantest that I have had to speak of
+him James Temple did not die a
+hardened man. If there be truth in
+tears, in prayers of penitence that fall
+from him who stand upon the borders
+of eternity&mdash;who can gain nothing
+by hypocrisy, and may lose by
+it the priceless treasure of an immortal
+soul&mdash;if serenity and joy are signs
+of a repentance spoken, a forgiveness
+felt, then Heaven had assuredly been
+merciful with the culprit, and had remitted
+his offences, as Heaven can,
+and will, remit the vilest.</p>
+
+<p>I remained in the village of Belton
+until I saw all that remained of the
+schoolfellows deposited in the earth.
+Their bodies had been easily obtained&mdash;that
+of the idiot, indeed, before
+life had quitted it. The evening that
+followed their burial, I passed with
+William Temple. Many a sad reminiscence
+occurred to him which he
+communicated to me without reserve,
+many a wanton act of coarse licentiousness,
+many a warning unheeded,
+laughed at, spurned. It is a mournful
+pleasure for the mind, as it dwells
+upon the doings of the departed, to
+build up its own theories, and to work
+out a history of what might have been
+in happier circumstances&mdash;a useless
+history of <i>ifs</i>. &quot;If my brother had
+been looked to when he was young,&quot;
+said William Temple more than once,
+&quot;he would have turned out differently.
+My uncle spoiled him. As a
+child, he was never corrected. If he
+wished for a toy, he had but to scream
+for it. If, at school, he had been fortunate
+enough to contract his friendships
+with young men of worth and
+character, their example would have
+won him to rectitude, for he was always
+a lad easily led.&quot; And again,
+&quot;If he had but listened to the advice
+which, when it would have served
+him, I did not fail daily and hourly
+to offer him, he might have lived for
+years, and been respected&mdash;for many
+know, I lost no opportunity to draw
+him from his course of error.&quot; Alas!
+how vain, how idle was this talk&mdash;how
+little it could help the clod that was
+already crumbling in the earth&mdash;the
+soul already at the judgment-seat; yet
+with untiring earnestness the brother
+persisted in this strain, and with every
+new hypothesis found fresh satisfaction.
+There was more reason for
+gratification when, at the close of the
+evening, the surviving relative turned
+from his barren discourse and referred
+to the last days of the deceased.
+There was comfort and consolation to
+the living in the evidences which he
+produced of his most blessed change.
+It was a joy to me to hear of his repentance,
+and to listen to the terms in
+which he made it known. I did not
+easily forget them. I journeyed homeward.
+When I arrived at the house
+of Doctor Mayhew, I was surprised to
+find how little I could remember of
+the country over which I had travelled.
+The scenes through which I had
+passed were forgotten&mdash;had not been
+noticed. Absorbed by the thoughts
+which possessed my brain, I had suffered
+myself to be carried forward,
+conscious of nothing but the waking
+dreams. I was prepared, however, to
+see my friend. Still influenced by the
+latent hope of meeting once more with
+Miss Fairman, still believing in the
+happy issue of my love, I had resolved
+to keep my own connexion with
+the idiot as secret as the grave. There
+was no reason why I should betray
+myself. His fate was independent of
+my act&mdash;my conduct formed no link
+in the chain which must be presented
+to make the history clear: and shame
+would have withheld the gratuitous
+confession, had not the ever present,
+never-dying promise forbade the disclosure
+of one convicting syllable. As
+may be supposed, the surprise of Doctor
+Mayhew, upon hearing the narrative,
+was no less than the regret which
+he experienced at the violent death of
+the poor creature in whom he had
+taken so kind and deep an interest.
+But a few days sufficed to sustain his
+concern for one who had come to him
+a stranger, and whom he had known
+so short a time. The pursuits and
+cares of life gradually withdrew the
+incident from his mind, and all
+thoughts of the idiot. He ceased to
+speak of him. To me, the last scene
+of his life was present for many a
+year. I could not remove it. By
+day and night it came before my eyes,
+without one effort on my part to invoke
+it. It has started up, suddenly
+and mysteriously, in the midst of enjoyment
+and serene delight, to mingle
+bitterness in the cup of earthly bliss.
+It has come in the season of sorrow to
+heighten the distress. Amongst men,
+and in the din of business, the vision
+has intruded, and in solitude it has
+followed me to throw its shadows
+across the bright green fields, beautiful
+in their freshness. Night after
+night&mdash;I cannot count their number&mdash;it
+has been the form and substance
+of my dreams, and I have gone to rest&mdash;yes,
+for months&mdash;with the sure and
+natural expectation of beholding the
+melancholy repetition of an act which
+I would have given any thing, and all
+I had, to forget and drive away for
+ever.</p>
+
+<p>A week passed pleasantly with my
+host. I spoke of departure at the end
+of it. He smiled when I did so, bade
+me hold my tongue and be patient. I
+suffered another week to glide away,
+and then hinted once more that I had
+trespassed long enough upon his hospitality.
+The doctor placed his hand
+upon my arm, and answered quickly,
+&quot;all in good time&mdash;do not hurry.&quot;
+His tone and manner confirmed, I
+know not why, the strong hope within
+me, and his words passed with
+meaning to my heart. I already built
+upon the aerial foundation, and looked
+forward with joyous confidence
+and expectation. The arguments and
+shows of truth are few that love requires.
+The poorest logic is the
+soundest reasoning&mdash;if it conclude for
+him. The visits to the parsonage
+were, meanwhile, continued. Upon
+my return, I gained no news. I asked
+if all were well there, and the simple,
+monosyllable, &quot;Yes,&quot; answered
+with unusual quickness and decision,
+was all that escaped the doctor's lips.
+He did not wish to be interrogated
+further, and was displeased. I perceived
+this and was silent. For some
+days, no mention was made of his
+dear friend the minister. He was
+accustomed to speak often of that
+man, and most affectionately. What
+was the inference? A breach had
+taken place. If I entertained the idea
+for a day, it was dissipated on the
+next; for the doctor, a week having
+elapsed since his last visit, rode over
+to the parsonage as usual, remained
+there some hours, and returned in
+his best and gayest spirits. He spoke
+of the Fairmans during the evening
+with the same kind feeling and good-humour
+that had always accompanied
+his allusions to them and their proceedings,
+and grew at length eloquent
+in the praises of them both. The increasing
+beauty of the young mistress,
+he said, was marvellous. &quot;Ah,&quot; he
+added slyly, and with more truth,
+perhaps, than he suspected, &quot;it would
+have done your eyes good to-day, only
+to have got one peep at her.&quot; I sighed,
+and he tantalized me further. He
+pretended to pity me for the inconsiderate
+haste with which I had thrown
+up my employment, and to condole
+with me for all I had lost in consequence.
+&quot;As for himself,&quot; he said,
+&quot;he had, upon further consideration,
+given up all thought of marriage for
+the present. He should live a little
+longer and grow wiser; but it was not
+a pleasant thing, by any means, to see
+so sweet a girl taken coolly off by a
+young fellow, who, if all he heard was
+true, was very likely to have an early
+opportunity.&quot; I sighed again, and asked
+permission to retire to rest; but
+my tormentor did not grant it, until
+he had spoken for half an hour longer,
+when he dismissed me in a state of
+misery incompatible with rest, in bed,
+or out of it. My heart was bursting
+when I left him. He could not fail
+to mark it. To my surprise, he made
+another excursion to the parsonage on
+the following day; and, as before, he
+joined me in the evening with nothing
+on his lips but commendation of the
+young lady whom he had seen, and
+complaint at the cruel act which was
+about to rob them of their treasure;
+for he said, regardless of my presence
+or the desperate state of my feelings,
+&quot;that the matter was now all but
+settled. Fairman had made up his
+mind, and was ready to give his consent
+the very moment the young fellow
+was bold enough to ask it. And
+lucky dog he is too,&quot; added the kind
+physician, by way of a conclusion,
+&quot;for little puss herself is over head
+and ears in love with him, or else I
+never made a right prognosis.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am much obliged to you, sir,&quot;
+I answered, when Doctor Mayhew
+paused; &quot;very grateful for your
+hospitality. If you please, I will depart
+to-morrow. I trust you will ask
+me to remain no longer. I cannot do
+so. My business in London&quot;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, very well! but that can wait,
+you know,&quot; replied the doctor, interrupting
+me. &quot;I can't spare you to-morrow.
+I have asked a friend to
+dinner, and you must meet him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not think me ungrateful,
+doctor,&quot; I answered; &quot;but positively
+I must and will depart to-morrow. I
+cannot stay.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense, man, you shall. Come,
+say you will, and I engage, if your intention
+holds, to release you as early
+as you like the next day. I have promised
+my friend that you will give
+him the meeting, and you must not
+refuse me. Let me have my way to-morrow,
+and you shall be your own
+master afterwards.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Upon such terms, sir,&quot; I answered
+immediately, &quot;it would he unpardonable
+if I persisted. You shall
+command me; on the following day,
+I will seek my fortunes in the world
+again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Just so,&quot; replied the doctor, and
+so we separated.</p>
+
+<p>The character of Dr Mayhew was
+little known to me. His goodness of
+heart I had reason to be acquainted
+with, but his long established love of
+jesting, his intense appreciation of a
+joke, practical or otherwise, I had yet
+to learn. In few men are united, as
+happily as they were in him, a steady
+application to the business of the
+world, and an almost unrestrained indulgence
+in its harmless pleasantries.
+The grave doctor was a boy at his
+fireside. I spent my last day in preparing
+for my removal, and in rambling
+for some hours amongst the hills, with
+which I had become too familiar to
+separate without a pang. Long was
+our leave-taking. I lingered and hovered
+from nook to nook, until I had
+expended the latest moment which it
+was mine to give. With a burdened
+spirit I returned to the house, as my
+thoughts shifted to the less pleasing
+prospect afforded by my new position.
+I shuddered to think of London, and
+the fresh vicissitudes that awaited me.</p>
+
+<p>It wanted but a few minutes to dinner
+when I stepped into the drawing-room.
+The doctor had just reached
+home, after being absent on professional
+duty since the morning. The
+visitor had already arrived; I had
+heard his knock whilst I was dressing.
+Having lost all interest in the doings
+of the place, I had not even cared to
+enquire his name. What was it to
+me? What difference could the chance
+visitor of a night make to me, who
+was on the eve of exile? None. I
+walked despondingly into the room,
+and advanced with distant civility towards
+the stranger. His face was
+from me, but he turned instantly upon
+hearing my step, and I beheld&mdash;&mdash;Mr
+Fairman. I could scarcely trust my
+eyes. I started, and retreated. My
+reverend friend, however, betrayed
+neither surprise nor discomposure.
+He smiled kindly, held out his hand,
+and spoke as he was wont in the days
+of cordiality and confidence. What
+did it mean?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a lovely afternoon, Stukely,&quot;
+began the minister, &quot;worthy of the
+ripe summer in which it is born.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is, sir,&quot; I replied; &quot;but I shall
+see no more of them,&quot; I added <i>instantly</i>,
+anxious to assure him that I
+was not lurking with sinister design
+so near the parsonage&mdash;that I was on
+the eve of flight. &quot;I quit our friend
+to-morrow, and must travel many
+miles away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will come to us, Caleb,&quot; answered
+Mr Fairman mildly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sir!&quot; said I, doubting if I heard
+aright.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Has Dr Mayhew said nothing
+then?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>I trembled in every limb.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing, sir,&quot; I answered. &quot;Oh,
+yes! I recollect&mdash;he did&mdash;he has&mdash;but
+what have I&mdash;I have no wish&mdash;no business&quot;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>The door opened, and Dr Mayhew
+himself joined us, rubbing his hands,
+and smiling, in the best of good tempers.
+In his rear followed the faithful
+Williams. Before a word of explanation
+could be offered, the latter
+functionary announced &quot;<i>dinner</i>,&quot; and
+summoned us away. The presence
+of the servants during the meal interfered
+with the gratification of my
+unutterable curiosity. Mr Fairman
+spoke most affably on different matters,
+but did not once revert to the
+previous subject of discourse. I was
+on thorns. I could not eat. I could
+not look at the minister without anxiety
+and shame, and whenever my
+eye caught that of the doctor, I was
+abashed by a look of meaning and
+good-humoured cunning, that was half
+intelligible and half obscure. Rays of
+hope penetrated to my heart's core,
+and illuminated my existence. The
+presence of Mr Fairman could not be
+without a purpose. What was it,
+then? Oh, I dared not trust myself
+to ask the question! The answer bred
+intoxication and delight, too sweet for
+earth. What meant that wicked
+smile upon the doctor's cheek? He
+was too generous and good to laugh
+at my calamity. He could not do it.
+Yet the undisturbed demeanour of the
+minister confounded me. If there had
+been connected with this visit so important
+an object as that which I
+longed to believe was linked with it,
+there surely would have been some
+evidence in his speech and manner,
+and he continued as cheerful and undisturbed
+as if his mind were free
+from every care and weighty thought.
+&quot;What can it mean?&quot; I asked myself,
+again and again. &quot;How can
+he coolly bid me to his house, after
+what has passed, after his fearful anxiety
+to get me out of it? Will he
+hazard another meeting with his beloved
+daughter?&mdash;Ah, I see it!&quot; I suddenly
+and mentally exclaimed; &quot;it is
+clear enough&mdash;she is absent&mdash;she is
+away. He wishes to evince his friendly
+disposition at parting, and now he
+can do it without risk or cost.&quot; It
+was a plain elucidation of the mystery&mdash;it
+was enough, and all my airy
+castles tumbled to the earth, and left
+me there in wretchedness. Glad was
+I when the dinner was concluded, and
+eager to withdraw. I had resolved to
+decline, at the first opportunity, the
+invitation of the incumbent. I did
+not wish to grieve my heart in feasting
+my eyes upon a scene crowded
+with fond associations, to revoke feelings
+in which it would be folly to indulge
+again, and which it were well
+to annihilate and forget. I was about
+to beg permission to leave the table,
+when Dr Mayhew rose; he looked
+archly at me when I followed his example,
+and requested me not to be in
+haste; &quot;he had business to transact,
+and would rejoin us shortly.&quot; Saying
+these words, he smiled and vanished.
+I remained silent. To be left alone
+with Mr Fairman, was the most annoying
+circumstance that could happen
+in my present mood. There were
+a hundred things which I burned to
+know, whilst I lacked the courage to
+enquire concerning one. But I had
+waited for an opportunity to decline
+his invitation. Here it was, and I had
+not power to lift my head and look at
+him. Mr Fairman himself did not
+speak for some minutes. He sat
+thoughtfully, resting his forehead in
+the palm of his hand&mdash;his elbow on
+the table. At length he raised his
+eyes, and whilst my own were still
+bent downward, I could feel that his
+were fixed upon me.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Caleb,&quot; said the minister.</p>
+
+<p>It was the first time that the
+incumbent had called me by my Christian
+name. How strangely it sounded from
+his lips! How exquisitely grateful it
+dropt upon my ear!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tell me, Caleb,&quot; continued Mr
+Fairman, &quot;did I understand you right?
+Is it true that Mayhew has told you
+nothing?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing distinctly, sir,&quot; I answered&mdash;&quot;I
+have gathered something
+from his hints, but I know not what
+he says in jest and what in earnest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have only her happiness at heart,
+Stukely&mdash;from the moment that you
+spoke to me on the subject, I have
+acted solely with regard to that. I
+hoped to have smothered this passion
+in the bud. In attempting it, I believed
+I was acting as a father should, and
+doing my duty by her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The room began to swim round me,
+and my head grew dizzy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am to blame, perhaps, as Mayhew
+says, for having brought you together,
+and for surrounding her with
+danger. I should have known that to
+trifle with a heart so guileless and so
+pure was cruel and unjust, and fraught
+with perilous consequences. I was
+blind, and I am punished for my act.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I looked at him at length.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I use the word deliberately&mdash;<i>punished</i>,
+Stukely. It <i>is</i> a punishment
+to behold the affection of which I have
+ever been too jealous, departing from
+me, and ripening for another. Why
+have I cared to live since Heaven took
+her mother to itself&mdash;but for her sake,
+for her welfare, and her love? But
+sorrow and regret are useless now.
+You do not know, young man, a
+thousandth part of your attainment
+when I tell you, you have gained her
+young and virgin heart. I oppose
+you no longer&mdash;I thwart not&mdash;render
+yourself worthy of the precious gift.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot speak, sir!&quot; I exclaimed,
+seizing the hand of the incumbent in
+the wildness of my joy. &quot;I am stupified
+by this intelligence! Trust me,
+sir&mdash;believe me, you shall find me
+not undeserving of your generosity
+and&quot;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, Stukely. Call it not by such
+a name. It is any thing but that;
+there is no liberality, no nobility of
+soul, in giving you what I may not
+now withhold. I cannot see her droop
+and die, and live myself to know that
+a word from me had saved her. I
+have given my consent to the prosecution
+of your attachment at the latest
+moment&mdash;not because I wished it, but
+to prevent a greater evil. I have told
+you the truth! It was due to us both
+that you should hear it; for the future
+look upon me as your father, and I
+will endeavour to do you justice.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a stop. I was so oppressed
+with a sense of happiness,
+that I could find no voice to speak
+my joy or tell my thanks. Mr Fairman
+paused, and then continued.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will come to the parsonage
+to-morrow, and take part again in the
+instruction of the lads after their return.
+You will be received as my
+daughter's suitor. Arrangements will
+be made for a provision for you.
+Mayhew and I have it in consideration
+now. When our plan is matured,
+it shall be communicated to you.
+There need be no haste. You are
+both young&mdash;too young for marriage&mdash;and
+we shall not yet fix the period
+of your espousal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>My mind was overpowered with a
+host of dazzling visions, which rose
+spontaneously as the minister proceeded
+in his delightful talk. I soon lost
+all power of listening to details.
+The beloved Ellen, the faithful and
+confiding maiden, who had not deserted
+the wanderer although driven from
+her father's doors&mdash;she, the beautiful
+and priceless jewel of my heart, was
+present in every thought, and was the
+ornament and chief of every group
+that passed before my warm imagination.
+Whilst the incumbent continued
+to speak of the future, of his own sacrifice,
+and my great gain&mdash;whilst his
+words, without penetrating, touched
+my ears, and died away&mdash;my soul
+grew busy in the contemplation of the
+prize, which, now that it was mine, I
+scarce knew how to estimate. Where
+was she <i>then</i>? How had she been?
+To how many days of suffering and
+of trial may she have been doomed?
+How many pangs may have wrung
+that noble heart before its sad complaints
+were listened to, and mercifully
+answered? I craved to be at her side.
+The words which her father had
+spoken had loosened the heavy chain
+that tied me down&mdash;my limbs were
+conscious of their freedom&mdash;my spirit
+felt its liberty&mdash;what hindered instant
+flight? In the midst of my reverie Dr
+Mayhew entered the room&mdash;and I remember
+distinctly that my immediate
+impulse was to leave the two friends
+together, and to run as fast as love
+could urge and feet could carry me&mdash;to
+the favoured spot which held all
+that I cared for now on earth. The
+plans, however, of Doctor Mayhew
+interfered with this desire. He had
+done much for me, more than I knew,
+and he was not the man to go without
+his payment. A long evening was
+yet before us, time enough for a hundred
+jokes, which I must hear, and
+witness, and applaud or I was most
+unworthy of the kindness he had
+shown me. The business over for
+which Mr Fairman had come expressly,
+the promise given of an early
+visit to the parsonage on the following
+day, an affectionate parting at
+the garden gate, and the incumbent
+proceeded on his homeward road.
+The doctor and I returned together
+to the house in silence and one of us
+in partial fear; for I could see the
+coming sarcasm in the questionable
+smile that played about his lips. Not
+a word was spoken when we resumed
+our seats. At last he rang the bell,
+and Williams answered it&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Book Mr Stukely by the London
+coach to-morrow, Williams,&quot;
+said the master; &quot;he <i>positively must
+and will depart to-morrow</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The criminal reprieved&mdash;the child,
+hopeless and despairing at the suffering
+parent's bed, and blessed at length
+with a firm promise of amendment
+and recovery, can tell the feelings
+that sustained my fluttering heart,
+beating more anxiously the nearer it
+approached its <i>home</i>. I woke that
+morning with the lark&mdash;yes, ere that
+joyous bird had spread its wing, and
+broke upon the day with its mad note&mdash;and
+I left the doctor's house whilst
+all within were sleeping. There was
+no rest for me away from that abode,
+whose gates of adamant, with all their
+bars and fastenings, one magic word
+had opened&mdash;whose sentinels were
+withdrawn&mdash;whose terrors had departed.
+The hours were all too long
+until I claimed my newfound privilege.
+Morn of the mellow summer,
+how beautiful is thy birth! How
+soft&mdash;how calm&mdash;how breathlessly
+and blushingly thou stealest upon
+a slumbering world! fearful, as it
+seems, of startling it. How deeply
+quiet, and how soothing, are thy earliest
+sounds&mdash;scarce audible&mdash;by no
+peculiar quality distinguishable, yet
+thrilling and intense! How doubly
+potent falls thy witching influence on
+him whose spirit passion has attuned
+to all the harmonies of earth, and
+made but too susceptible! Disturbed
+as I was by the anticipation of my
+joy, and by the consequent unrest,
+with the first sight of day, and all its
+charms, came <i>peace</i>&mdash;actual and profound.
+The agitation of my soul was
+overwhelmed by the prevailing stillness,
+and I grew tranquil and subdued.
+Love existed yet&mdash;what could
+extinguish that?&mdash;but heightened and
+sublimed. It was as though, in contemplating
+the palpable and lovely
+work of heaven, all selfishness had
+at once departed from my breast&mdash;all
+dross had separated from my best
+affections, and left them pure and free.
+And so I walked on, happiest of the
+happy, from field to field, from hill to
+hill, with no companion on the way,
+no traveller within my view&mdash;alone
+with nature and my heart's delight.
+&quot;And men pent up in cities,&quot; thought
+I, as I went along, &quot;would call this&mdash;<i>solitude</i>.&quot;
+I remembered how
+lonely I had felt in the busy crowds
+of London&mdash;how chill, how desolate
+and forlorn, and marvelled at the reasoning
+of man. And came no other
+thoughts of London and the weary
+hours passed there, as I proceeded on
+my delightful walk? Yes, many, as
+Heaven knows, who heard the involuntary
+matin prayer, offered in gratefulness
+of heart, upon my knees, and
+in the open fields, where no eye but
+one could look upon the worshipper,
+and call the fitness of the time and
+place in question. The early mowers
+were soon a-foot; they saluted me
+and passed. Then, from the humblest
+cottages issued the straight thin column
+of white smoke&mdash;white as the snowy
+cloud&mdash;telling of industry within, and
+the return of toil. Now labourers
+were busy in their garden plots, labouring
+for pleasure and delight, ere
+they strove abroad for hire, their children
+at their side, giving the utmost
+of their small help&mdash;young, ruddy,
+wild, and earnest workmen all! The
+country day is up some hours before
+the day in town. Life sleeps in cities,
+whilst it moves in active usefulness
+away from them. The hills were
+dotted with the forms of men before
+I reached the parsonage, and when I
+reached it, a golden lustre from the
+mounting sun lit up the lovely house
+with fire&mdash;streaming through the casements
+already opened to the sweet and
+balmy air.</p>
+
+<p>If I had found it difficult to rest on
+this eventful morning, so also had another&mdash;even
+here&mdash;in this most peaceful
+mansion. The parsonage gate was
+at this early hour unclosed. I entered.
+Upon the borders of the velvet lawn,
+bathed in the dews of night, I beheld
+the gentle lady of the place; she was
+alone, and walking pensively&mdash;now
+stooping, not to pluck, but to admire,
+and then to leave amongst its mates,
+some crimson beauty of the earth&mdash;now
+looking to the mountains of rich
+gold piled in the heavens, one upon
+another, changing in form and colour,
+blending and separating, as is their
+wondrous power and custom, filling
+the maiden's soul with joy. Her back
+was toward me: should I advance,
+or now retire? Vain question, when,
+ere an answer could be given, I was
+already at the lady's side. Shall I tell
+of her virgin bashfulness, her blushes,
+her trembling consciousness of pure
+affection? Shall I say how little her
+tongue could speak her love, and how
+eloquently the dropping tear told all!
+Shall I describe our morning's walk,
+her downward gaze&mdash;my pride?&mdash;her
+deep, deep silence, my impassioned
+tones, the insensibilty to all external
+things&mdash;the rushing on of envious
+Time, jealous of the perfect happiness
+of man? The heart is wanting for the
+task&mdash;the pen is shaking in the
+tremulous hand.&mdash;Beautiful vision!
+long associate of my rest, sweetener of
+the daily cares of life, shade of the
+heavenly one&mdash;beloved Ellen! hover
+still around me, and sustain my aching
+soul&mdash;carry me back to the earliest
+days of our young love, quicken
+every moment with enthusiasm&mdash;be
+my fond companion once again, and
+light up the old man's latest hour
+with the fire that ceased to burn when
+thou fleed'st heavenward! Thou hast
+been near me often since we parted
+here! Whose smile but thine has
+cheered the labouring pilgrim through
+the lagging day? In tribulation,
+whose voice has whispered <i>peace</i>&mdash;whose
+eye hath shone upon him, like
+a star, tranquil and steady in the
+gloomy night? Linger yet, and
+strengthen and hallow the feeble
+words, that chronicle our love!</p>
+
+<p>It would be impossible to conceive
+a woman more eminently fitted to fulfil
+the duties of her station, than the
+gentle creature whose heart it had
+been my happiness and fortune to
+make my own. Who could speak so
+well of the <i>daughter's</i> obedience as he
+who was the object of her hourly solicitude?
+Who could behold her tenderness,
+her watchfulness and care
+and not revere the filial piety that
+sanctified the maid? The poor, most
+difficult of mankind to please, the easily
+offended, the jealous and the peevish,
+were unanimous in their loud praise
+of her, whose presence filled
+the foulest hut with light, and was the
+harbinger of good. It is well to
+doubt the indigent when they speak
+<i>evil</i> of their fellows; but trust them
+when, with one voice, <i>they pray for
+blessings</i>, as they did for her, who came
+amongst them as a sister and a child.
+If a spotless mind be a treasure in the
+<i>wife</i>, if simplicity and truth, virtue
+and steadfast love, are to be prized in
+her who plights her troth to man,
+what had I more to ask&mdash;what had
+kind nature more to grant?</p>
+
+<p>Had all my previous sufferings been
+multiplied a hundred times, I should
+have been indemnified for all in the
+month that followed my restoration to
+the parsonage. Evening after evening,
+when the business of the day
+was closed, did we together wander
+amongst the scenes that were so dear
+to us&mdash;too happy in the enjoyment of
+the present, dwelling with pleasure on
+the past, dreaming wildly&mdash;as the
+young must dream&mdash;of the uncreated
+future. I spoke of earthly happiness,
+and believed it not a fable. What
+could be brighter than our promises?
+What looked more real&mdash;less likely to
+be broken? How sweet was our existence!
+My tongue would never cease
+to paint in dazzling colours the days
+that yet awaited us. I numbered over
+the joys of a domestic life, told her of
+the divine favour that accompanies
+contentment, and how angels of heaven
+hover over the house in which it
+dwells united to true love. Nor was
+there wanting extravagant and fanciful
+discourse, such as may be spoken
+by the prodigal heart to its co-mate,
+when none are by to smile and wonder
+at blind feeling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear Ellen,&quot; have I said, in all
+the fulness of my passion&mdash;&quot;what a
+life is this we lead! what heavenly
+joy! To be for ever only as we are,
+were to have more of God's kindness
+and beloved care than most of earthly
+creatures may. Indissolubly joined,
+and in each other's light to live, and
+in each other's sight alone to seek
+those blessings wedded feelings may
+bestow&mdash;to perceive and know ourselves
+as one&mdash;to breathe as one the
+ripe delicious air&mdash;to fix on every object
+of our mutual love the stamp and
+essence of one living heart&mdash;to walk
+abroad, and find glad sympathy in all
+created things&mdash;this, this is to be conscious
+of more lasting joy&mdash;to have
+more comfort in the sight of God,
+than they did know, the happy parent
+pair, when heaven smiled on earth, and
+earth was heaven, connected both by
+tenderest links of love.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She did not answer, when my soul
+ran riot in its bliss. She listened, and
+she sighed, as though experience cut
+off the promises of hope, or as if intimations
+of evil began already to cast
+their shadows, and to press upon her
+soul!</p>
+
+<p>Time flew as in a dream. The
+sunny days passed on, finding and
+leaving me without a trouble or a fear&mdash;happy
+and entranced. Each hour
+discovered new charms in my betrothed,
+and every day unveiled a latent
+grace. How had I merited my
+great good fortune? How could I
+render myself worthy of her love? It
+was not long before the object of my
+thoughts, sleeping and waking, became
+a living idol, and I, a reckless
+worshipper.</p>
+
+<p>Doctor Mayhew had been a faithful
+friend, and such he continued, looking
+to the interests of the friendless, which
+might have suffered in the absence of
+so good an advocate. It was he, as I
+learnt, who had drawn from the incumbent
+his reluctant consent to my
+return. My departure following my
+thoughtless declaration so quickly,
+was not without visible effect on her
+who had such deep concern in it.
+Her trouble was not lost upon the experienced
+doctor; he mentioned his
+suspicion to her father, and recommended
+my recall. The latter would
+not listen to his counsel, and pronounced
+his <i>diagnosis</i> hasty and incorrect.
+The physician bade him wait. The
+patient did not rally, and her melancholy
+increased. The doctor once
+more interceded, but not successfully.
+Mr Fairman received his counsel with
+a hasty word, and Dr Mayhew left
+the parsonage in anger, telling the minister
+he would himself be answerable
+no longer for her safety. A week
+elapsed, and Doctor Mayhew found it
+impossible to keep away. The old
+friends met, more attached than ever
+for the parting which both had found
+it difficult to bear. The lady was no
+better. They held a conference&mdash;it
+ended in my favour. I had been
+exactly a month reinstated, when Doctor
+Mayhew, who could not rest thoroughly
+easy until our marriage was
+concluded, and, as he said, &quot;the affair
+was off his hands,&quot; took a convenient
+opportunity to intimate to Mr Fairman
+the many advantages of an early
+union. The minister was anxious to
+postpone the ceremony to a distant
+period, which he had not courage himself
+to name. This Mayhew saw, and
+was well satisfied that, if my happiness
+depended on the word of the incumbent,
+I should wait long before I
+heard it voluntarily given. He told
+me so, and undertook &quot;to bring the
+matter to a head&quot; with all convenient
+speed. He met with a hundred objections,
+for all of which he was prepared.
+He heard his friend attentively,
+and with great deference, and then
+he answered. What his answers
+were, I cannot tell&mdash;powerful his reasoning
+must have been, since it argued
+the jealous parent into the necessity
+of arranging for an early marriage,
+and communicating with me
+that same day upon the views which
+he had for our future maintenance and
+comfort.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing could exceed the gratification
+of Doctor Mayhew, that best
+and most successful of ambassadors,
+when he ran to me&mdash;straight from the
+incumbent's study&mdash;to announce the
+perfect success of his diplomacy. Had
+he been negotiating for himself, he
+could not have been in higher spirits.
+Ellen was with me when he acquainted
+me, that in three months the treasure
+would be my own, and mine
+would be the privilege and right to
+cherish it. He insisted that he should
+be rewarded on the instant with a
+kiss; and, in the exuberance of his
+feelings, was immodest enough to
+add, that &quot;if he wasn't godfather to
+the first, and if we did not call him
+Jacob after him, he'd give us over to
+our ingratitude, and not have another
+syllable to say to us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was a curious occupation to contemplate
+the parent during the weeks
+that followed&mdash;to observe all-powerful
+nature working in him, the chastened
+and the upright minister of heaven,
+as she operates upon the weakest and
+the humblest of mankind. He lived
+for the happiness and prosperity of
+his child. For that he was prepared
+to make every sacrifice a father might&mdash;even
+the greatest&mdash;that of parting
+with her. Was it to be expected that
+he should be insensible to the heavy
+cost? Could it be supposed that he
+would all at once resign the dear one
+without a quiver or a pang? There is
+a tremor of the soul as well as of the
+body, when the knife is falling on the
+limb to sever it, and this he suffered,
+struggling for composure as a martyr,
+and yet with all the weakness of a
+man. I have watched him closely,
+and I have known his heart wringing
+with pain, as the eye of his child
+sparkled with joy at my approach,
+whilst the visible features of his face
+strove fiercely to suppress the rising
+selfishness. He has gazed upon her,
+as we have sat together in the cheerful
+night, wondering, as it seemed, by
+what fascination the natural and deep-rooted
+love of years could be surpassed
+and superseded by the immature affection
+of a day&mdash;forgetful of her mother's
+love, that once preferred him
+to her sire. In our evening walks I
+have seen him in our track, following
+from afar, eager to overtake and join
+us, and yet resisting the strong impulse,
+and forbearing. He could not
+hide from me the glaring fact, that he
+was envious of my fortune, manifest
+as it was in every trifling act; nor
+was it, in truth, easier for him to conceal
+the strong determination which
+he had formed to act with honour and
+with justice. No angry or reproachful
+word escaped his lips; every favour
+that he could show me he gladly
+proffered; nay, many uncalled-for
+and unexpected, he insisted upon my
+receiving, apparently, or, as I guessed,
+because he wished to mortify his own
+poor heart, and to remove from me
+the smallest cause for murmuring or
+complaint. I endeavoured not to be
+unworthy of his liberality and confidence;
+and the daughter, who perceived
+the conflict in his breast, redoubled
+her attention, and made more
+evident her unimpaired and childlike
+love.</p>
+
+<p>It wanted but a month to the time
+fixed for our union, when Ellen reached
+her twentieth year. On that occasion,
+Doctor Mayhew dined with
+us, and passed the evening at the parsonage.
+He was in high spirits; and
+the minister himself more gay than I
+had known him since our engagement.
+Ellen reflected her father's cheerfulness,
+and was busy in sustaining it.
+All went merry as a marriage-bell.
+Ellen sang her father's favourite airs&mdash;played
+the tunes that pleased him
+best, and acquired new energy and
+power as she proceeded. The parent
+looked upon her with just pride, and
+took occasion, when the music was at
+its loudest, to turn to Mayhew, and to
+speak of her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How well she looks!&quot; said he;
+&quot;how beautiful she grows!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; answered the physician;
+&quot;I don't wonder that she made young
+Stukely's heart ache. What a figure
+the puss has got!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And her health seems quite restored!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you are not surprised at
+that, I reckon. Rest assured, my
+friend, if we could only let young
+ladies have their way, our patients
+would diminish rapidly. Why, how
+she sings to-night! I never knew her
+voice so good&mdash;did you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, she is happy, Mayhew; all
+her thoughts are joyful! Her heart
+is revelling. It was very sinful to be
+so anxious on her account.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So I always told you; but you
+wouldn't mind me. She'll make old
+bones.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You think so, do you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, look at her yourself, and
+say whether we should be justified in
+thinking otherwise. Is she not the
+picture of health and animation?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, Mayhew, but her mother&quot;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There, be quiet will you? The
+song is over.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Ellen returned to her father's side,
+sat upon a stool before him, and placed
+her arms upon his knee. The incumbent
+drew her head there, and touched
+her cheek in playfulness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come, my friend,&quot; exclaimed the
+physician, &quot;that isn't allowable by
+any means. Recollect two young
+gentlemen are present, and we can't
+be tantalized.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The minister smiled, and Ellen
+looked at me.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you remember, doctor,&quot; enquired
+the latter, &quot;this very day
+eleven years, when you came over on
+the grey pony, that walked into this
+room after you, and frightened us all
+so?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, puss, I do very well; and
+don't I recollect your tying my wig
+to the chair, and then calling me to
+the window, to see how I should look
+when I had left it behind me, you
+naughty little girl!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That was very wrong, sir; but
+you know you forgave me for it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I didn't. Come here, though,
+and I will now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She left her stool, and ran laughing
+to him. The doctor professed to
+whisper in her ear, but kissed her
+cheek. He coughed and hemmed,
+and, with a serious air, asked me what
+I meant by grinning at him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know, doctor,&quot; continued
+Ellen, &quot;that this is my first birth-day,
+since that one, which we have kept
+without an interruption. Either papa
+or you have been always called away
+before half the evening was over.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, and very sorry you would
+be, I imagine, if both of us were called
+away <i>now</i>. It would be very distressing
+to you; wouldn't it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It would hardly render her happy,
+Mayhew,&quot; said Mr Fairman, &quot;to be
+deprived of her father's society
+on such an occasion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, indeed, papa,&quot; said Ellen,
+earnestly; &quot;and the good doctor
+does not think so either.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Doesn't he, though, you wicked
+pussy? You would be very wretched,
+then, if we were obliged to go? No
+doubt of it, especially if we happened
+to leave that youngster there behind
+us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ellen shall read to us, Mayhew,&quot;
+said the incumbent, turning
+from the subject. &quot;You will find Milton
+on my table, Caleb.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, Ellen imparted to her
+friend a look of tenderest remonstrance,
+and the doctor said no more.</p>
+
+<p>The incumbent, himself a fine reader,
+had taken great pains to teach his
+child the necessary and simple, but
+much neglected art of reading well.
+There was much grace and sweetness
+in her utterance, correct emphasis,
+and no effort. An hour passed delightfully
+with the minister's favourite
+and beloved author; now the
+maiden read, now he. He listened
+with greater pleasure to her voice than
+to his own or any other, but he watched
+the smallest diminution of its power&mdash;the
+faintest evidence of failing
+strength&mdash;and released her instantly,
+most anxious for her health and safety,
+then and always.</p>
+
+<p>Then arose, as will arise from the
+contented bosom of domestic piety,
+grateful rejoicings&mdash;the incense of an
+altar glowing with love's own offerings!
+Past time was summoned up,
+weighed with the present, and, with all
+the mercies which accompanied it,
+was still found wanting in the perfect
+and unsullied happiness that existed
+now. &quot;The love of heaven,&quot; said
+the minister, &quot;had never been so
+manifest and clear. His labours in
+the service of his people, his prayers
+on their behalf, were not unanswered.
+Improvement was taking place around him;
+even those who had given him
+cause for deepest sorrow, were already
+turning from the path of error into
+that of rectitude and truth. The
+worst characters in the village had
+been checked by the example of their
+fellows, and by the voice of their own
+conscience, (he might have added, by
+the working of their minister's most
+affectionate zeal) and his heart was
+joyful&mdash;how joyful he could not say&mdash;on
+their account. His family was
+blessed&mdash;(and he looked at Ellen with a
+moistened eye)&mdash;with health, and with
+the promise of its continuance. His
+best and oldest friend was at his side;
+and he, who was dear to them all on
+her account whose life would soon be
+linked with his, was about to add to
+every other blessing, the advantages
+which must follow the possession of so
+good a son. What more could he
+require? How much more was this
+than the most he could deserve!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Doctor Mayhew, touched with the
+solemn feeling of the moment, became
+a serious man. He took the incumbent
+by the hand, and spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, Fairman, we have cause for
+gratitude. You and I have roughed
+it many years, and gently enough do
+we go down the hill. To behold the
+suffering of other men, and to congratulate
+ourselves upon our exemption,
+is not the rational mode of receiving
+goodness from Almighty God&mdash;yet
+it is impossible for a human
+being to look about him, and to see
+family after family worn down by
+calamity, whilst he himself is free from
+any, and not have his heart yearning
+with thankfulness, knowing, as he
+must, how little he merits his condition.
+You and I are happy fellows,
+both of us; and all we have to do, is
+to think so, and to prepare quietly to
+leave our places, whilst the young
+folks grow up to take them. As
+for the boy there, if he doesn't smooth
+your pillow, and lighten for you the
+weight of old age as it comes on, then
+am I much mistaken, and ready to
+regret the steps which I have taken
+to bring you all together.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was little spoken after this.
+The hearts were full to the brink&mdash;to
+speak was to interfere with their consummate
+joy. The doctor was the
+only one who made the attempt, and
+he, after a very ineffectual endeavour
+to be jocose, held his peace. The
+Bible was produced. The servants
+of the house appeared. A chapter
+was read from it by the incumbent&mdash;a
+prayer was offered up, then we
+separated.</p>
+
+<p>I stole to Ellen as she was about to
+quit us for the night. &quot;And you,
+dear Ellen,&quot; I whispered in her ear,
+&quot;are you, too, happy?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, <i>dearest</i>,&quot; she murmured
+with a gentle pressure, that passed
+like wildfire to my heart. &quot;I fear
+<i>too</i> happy. Earth will not suffer it&quot;</p>
+
+<p>We parted, and in twelve hours
+those words were not without their
+meaning.</p>
+
+<p>We met on the following morning
+at the usual breakfast hour. The moment
+that I entered the apartment, I
+perceived that Ellen was indisposed&mdash;that
+something had occurred, since the
+preceding night, to give her anxiety
+or pain. Her hand trembled slightly,
+and a degree of perturbation was apparent
+in her movements. My first
+impression was, that she had received
+ill news, for there was nothing in her
+appearance to indicate the existence
+of bodily suffering. It soon occurred
+to me, however, that the unwonted
+recent excitement might account for
+all her symptoms&mdash;that they were, in
+fact, the natural consequence of that
+sudden abundance of joyous spirits
+which I had remarked in her during
+the early part of the evening. I satisfied
+myself with this belief, or strove
+to do so&mdash;the more easily, perhaps, because
+I saw her father indifferent to
+her state, if not altogether ignorant of
+it. He who was ever lying in wait&mdash;ever
+watching&mdash;ever ready to apprehend
+the smallest evidence of ill health,
+was, on this morning, as insensible to
+the alteration which had taken place
+in the darling object of his solicitude,
+as though he had no eyes to see, or
+object to behold; so easy is it for a
+too anxious diligence in a pursuit to
+overshoot and miss the point at which
+it aims. Could he, as we sat, have
+guessed the cause of all her grief&mdash;could
+some dark spirit, gloating on
+man's misery, have breathed one fearful
+word into his ear, bringing to life
+and light the melancholy tale of distant
+years&mdash;how would his nature
+have supported the announcement&mdash;how
+bore the?&mdash;&mdash;but let me not anticipate.
+I say that I dismissed all
+thought of serious mischief, by attributing
+at once all signs of it to the
+undue excitement of the festive night.
+As the breakfast proceeded, I believed
+that her anxiety diminished, and with
+that passed away my fears.</p>
+
+<p>At the end of the pleasure garden
+of the parsonage was a paddock, and,
+immediately beyond this, another field,
+leading to a small valley of great
+beauty. On one side of &quot;<i>the Dell</i>,&quot;
+as it was called, was a summer-house,
+which the incumbent had erected for
+the sake of the noble prospect which
+the elevation commanded. To this retreat
+Ellen and I had frequently wandered
+with our books during the progress
+of our love. Here I had read to her of
+affection and constancy, consecrated
+by the immortal poet's song. Here
+we had passed delightful hours, bestowing
+on the future the same golden
+lustre that made so bright the present.
+In joy, I had called this summer-house
+&quot;<i>the Lover's Bower</i>,&quot; and it was pleasing
+to us both to think that we should
+visit in our after days, for many a year,
+and with increasing love, a spot endeared
+to us by the fondest recollections.
+Thither I bent my steps at the
+close of our repast. It wanted but
+two days to the time fixed for the resumption
+of our studies. The boys
+had returned, and the note of preparation
+was already sounded. I carried
+my task to the retreat, and there commenced
+my labours. An hour fled
+quickly whilst I was occupied somewhat
+in Greek, but more in contemplation
+of the gorgeous scene before
+me, and in lingering thoughts of her
+whose form was never absent, but
+hovered still about the pleasure or the
+business of the day. The shadow of
+that form was yet present, when the
+substance became visible to the bodily
+eye. Ellen followed me to the
+&quot;<i>Lover's Bower</i>,&quot; and there surprised
+me. She was even paler than before&mdash;and
+the burden of some disquietude
+was written on her gentle brow; but a
+smile was on her lips&mdash;one of a languid
+cast&mdash;and also of encouragement and
+hope. I drew her to my side. Lovers
+are egotists; their words point ever
+to themselves. She spoke of the birth-day
+that had just gone by; the tranquil
+and blissful celebration of it. My
+expectant soul was already dreaming
+of the next that was to come, and
+speaking of the increased happiness
+that must accompany it.</p>
+
+<p>Ellen sighed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a lover's sigh!&quot; thought I,
+not heeding it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Whatever may be the future, Caleb,&quot;
+said Ellen seriously, but very
+calmly, &quot;we ought to be prepared
+for it. Earth is not our <i>resting-place</i>.
+We should never forget that. Should
+we, dearest?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, love; but earth has happiness
+of her kind, of which her children are
+most sensible. Whilst we are here,
+we live upon her promises.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But oh, not to the exclusion of
+the brighter promises that come from
+heaven! You do not say that, dear
+Caleb?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, Ellen. You could not give
+your heart to him who thought so;
+howbeit, you have bestowed it upon
+one unworthy of your piety and excellence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not mock me, Caleb,&quot; said
+Ellen, blushing. &quot;I have the heart
+of a sinner, that needs all the mercy of
+heaven for its weaknesses and faults.
+I have ever fallen short of my
+duty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are the only one who says it.
+Your father will not say so, and I
+question if the villagers would take
+your part in this respect.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not misunderstand me, Caleb.
+I am not, I trust, a hypocrite. I have
+endeavoured to be useful to the poor
+and helpless in our neighbourhood&mdash;I
+have been anxious to lighten the heaviness
+of a parent's days, and, as far as
+I could, to indemnify him for my mother's
+loss. I believe that I have done
+the utmost my imperfect faculties permitted.
+I have nothing to charge
+myself with on these accounts. But
+my Heavenly Father,&quot; continued the
+maiden, her cheeks flushing, her eyes
+filling with tears&mdash;&quot;oh! I have been
+backward in my affection and duty to
+him. I have not ever had before my
+eyes his honour and glory in my daily
+walk&mdash;I have not done every act in
+subordination to his will, for his sake,
+and with a view to his blessing. But
+He is merciful as well as just, and if
+his punishment falls now upon my
+head, it is assuredly to wean me from
+my error, and to bring me to himself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The maid covered her moistened
+cheek, and sobbed loudly. I was fully
+convinced that she was suffering from
+the reaction consequent upon extreme
+joy. I was rather relieved than distressed
+by her burst of feeling, and I
+did not attempt for a time to check
+her tears.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tell me, dear Caleb,&quot; she said
+herself at length, &quot;if I were to lose
+you&mdash;if it were to please Heaven to
+take you suddenly from this earth,
+would it not be sinful to murmur at
+his act? Would it not be my duty to
+bend to his decree, and to prepare to
+follow you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You would submit to such a trial
+as a Christian woman ought. I am
+sure you would, dear Ellen&mdash;parted,
+as we should be, but for a season, and
+sure of a reunion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And would you do this?&quot; enquired
+the maiden quickly. &quot;Oh, say
+that you would, dear Caleb! Let me
+hear it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are agitated, dearest. We
+will not talk of this now. There is
+grace in heaven appointed for the bitterest
+seasons of adversity. It does
+not fail when needed. Let us pray
+that the hour may be distant which
+shall bring home to either so great a
+test of resignation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, pray, dear Stukely; but,
+should it come suddenly and quickly&mdash;oh,
+let us be prepared to meet it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We will endeavour, then; and
+now to a more cheerful theme. Do
+we go to Dr Mayhew's, as proposed?
+We shall spend a happy day with
+our facetious, but most kind-hearted
+friend.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Ellen burst again into a flood of
+tears.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is the matter, love?&quot; I exclaimed.
+&quot;Confide to me, and tell
+the grief that preys upon your mind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not be alarmed, Stukely,&quot; she
+answered rapidly; &quot;it may be nothing
+after all; but when I woke this morning&mdash;it
+may, I hope for your sake that
+it <i>is</i> nothing serious&mdash;but my dear
+mother, it was the commencement of
+her own last fatal illness.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She stopped suddenly, as if her
+speech had failed her&mdash;coughed sharply,
+and raised her handkerchief to her
+mouth. I perceived a thick, broad
+spot of BLOOD, and shuddered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not be frightened, Stukely,&quot; she
+continued, shocked fearfully herself.
+&quot;I shall recover soon. It is the
+suddenness&mdash;I was unprepared. So it
+was when I awoke this morning&mdash;and
+it startled me, because I heard it was
+the first bad symptom that my poor
+mother showed. Now, I pray you,
+Stukely, to be calm. Perhaps I shall
+get well; but if I do not, I shall be so
+happy&mdash;preparing for eternity, with
+you, dear Caleb, at my side. You
+promised to be tranquil, and to bear
+up against this day; and I am sure you
+will&mdash;yes, for my sake&mdash;that I may see
+you so, and have no sorrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I took the dear one to my bosom,
+and, like a child, cried upon her neck.
+What could I say? In one moment I
+was a bankrupt and a beggar&mdash;my fortunes
+were scattered to the winds&mdash;my
+solid edifice as stricken by the thunder-bolt,
+and lay in ruins before me!
+Was it real?</p>
+
+<p>Ellen grew calmer as she looked at
+me, and spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Listen to me, dearest Stukely. It
+was my duty to acquaint you with this
+circumstance, and I have done so, relying
+on your manliness and love.
+You have already guessed what I am
+about to add. My poor father&quot;&mdash;her
+lips quivered as she said the word&mdash;&quot;he
+must know nothing for the present.
+It would be cruel unnecessarily
+to alarm him. His heart would break.
+He MUST be kept in ignorance of this.
+You shall see Mayhew; he will, I
+trust, remove our fears. Should he
+confirm them, he can communicate to
+papa.&quot; Again she paused, and her
+tears trickled to her lips, which moved
+convulsively.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not speak, my beloved,&quot; I exclaimed.
+&quot;Compose yourself. We
+will return home. Be it as you wish.
+I will see Mayhew immediately, and
+bring him with me to the parsonage.
+Seek rest&mdash;avoid exertion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I know not what conversation followed
+this. I know not how we reached
+our home again. I have no recollection
+of it. Three times upon our road was
+the cough repeated, and, as at first, it
+was accompanied by that hideous sight.
+In vain she turned her head away to
+escape detection. It was impossible
+to deceive my keen and piercing gaze.
+I grew pale as death as I beheld on
+each occasion the frightful evidence of
+disease; but the maiden pressed my
+hand, and smiled sweetly and encouragingly
+to drive away my fears. She
+did not speak&mdash;I had forbidden her to
+do so; but her looks&mdash;full of tenderness
+and love&mdash;told how all her thoughts
+were for her lover&mdash;all her anxiety and
+care.</p>
+
+<p>At my request, as soon as we arrived
+at home, she went to bed. I saw the
+incumbent&mdash;acquainted him with her
+sudden illness&mdash;taking care to keep its
+nature secret&mdash;and then ran for my life
+to Dr Mayhew's residence. The very
+appearance of blood was to me, as it
+is always to the common and
+uninformed observer, beyond all doubt
+confirmatory of the worst suspicions&mdash;the
+harbinger of certain death. There
+is something horrible in its sight,
+presented in such a form; but not for
+itself do we shrink as we behold it&mdash;not
+for what it is, but for what it
+awfully proclaims. I was frantic and
+breathless when I approached the
+doctor's house, and half stupified when
+I at length stood before him.</p>
+
+<p>I told my errand quickly.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor attempted instantly to
+mislead me, but he failed in his
+design. I saw, in spite of the forced
+smile that would not rest upon his lips,
+how unexpectedly and powerfully this
+news had come upon him&mdash;how seriously
+he viewed it. He could not
+remove my miserable convictions by
+his own abortive efforts at cheerfulness
+and unconcern. He moved to
+his window, and strove to whistle, and
+to speak of the haymakers who were
+busy in the fields, and of the weather;
+but the more he feigned to regard my
+information as undeserving of alarm,
+the more convinced I grew that deadly
+mischief had already taken place.
+There was an air about him that
+showed him ill at ease; and, in the
+midst of all his quietude and indifference,
+he betrayed an anxiety to appear
+composed, unwarranted by an ordinary
+event. Had the illness been trifling
+indeed, he could have afforded to be
+more serious and heedful.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will be at the parsonage some
+time to-day. You can return without
+me, Stukely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dr Mayhew,&quot; I exclaimed, &quot;I
+entreat, I implore you not to trifle with
+me! I can bear any thing but that.
+Tell me the worst, and I will not
+shrink from it. You must not think
+to deceive me. You are satisfied that
+there is no hope for us; I am sure you
+are, and you will not be just and say
+so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am satisfied of no such thing,&quot;
+answered the doctor quickly. &quot;I
+should be a fool, a madman, to speak
+so rashly. There is every reason to
+hope, I do believe, at present. Tell
+me one thing&mdash;does her father know
+of it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He does not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then let it still be kept a secret
+from him. Her very life may depend
+upon his ignorance. She must be
+kept perfectly composed&mdash;no agitation&mdash;no
+frightened faces around her. But
+I will go with you, and see what can
+be done. I'll warrant it is nothing at
+all, and that puss is well over her fright
+before we get to her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Again the doctor smiled unhealthfully,
+and tried, awkwardly enough, to
+appear wholly free from apprehension,
+whilst he was most uncomfortable with
+the amount of it.</p>
+
+<p>The physician remained for half an
+hour with his patient, and rejoined me
+in the garden when he quitted her.
+He looked serious and thoughtful.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is no hope, then?&quot; I
+exclaimed immediately.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tush, boy,&quot; he answered;
+&quot;quiet&mdash;quiet. She will do well, I
+hope&mdash;eventually. She has fever on her
+now, which must be brought down.
+While that remains there will be
+anxiety, as there must be always&mdash;when
+it leaves her, I trust she will be
+well again. Do you know if she has
+undergone any unusual physical exertion?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I confess to you that I do not like
+this accident; but it is impossible to
+speak positively now. Whilst the fever
+lasts, symptoms may be confounded
+and mistaken. I will watch her
+closely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you seen her father?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have; but I have told him
+nothing further than he knew. He believes
+her slightly indisposed. I have
+calmed him, and have told him not to
+have the child disturbed. You will
+see to that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And now mark me, Stukely. I
+expect that you will behave like a man,
+and as you ought. We cannot keep
+Fairman ignorant of this business.
+Should it go on, as it may&mdash;in spite of
+every thing we can do&mdash;he must
+know it. You have seen sufficient of
+his character to judge how he will
+receive the information which it may
+be my painful lot to take to him. I
+think of it with dread. It has been
+my pleasure to stand your friend&mdash;you
+must prove mine. I shall expect you
+to act with fortitude and calmness, and
+not, by weakness and self-indulgence,
+to increase the pain that will afflict the
+parent's heart&mdash;for it will be sufficient
+for Fairman to know only what has
+happened to give up every hope and
+consolation. You must be firm on his
+account and chiefly for the sake of the
+dear girl, who should not see your face
+without a smile of confidence and love
+upon it. Do you hear me? I will let
+you weep now,&quot; he continued, noticing
+the tears which prevented my reply,
+&quot;provided that you dry your eyes, and
+keep them so from this time forward.
+Do you hear me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; I faltered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And will you heed me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will try,&quot; I answered, as firmly as
+I might, with every hope within me
+crushed and killed by the words which
+he had spoken.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well. Then let us say no
+more, until we see what Providence is
+doing for us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The fever of Ellen did not abate
+that day. The doctor did not leave
+the house, but remained with the incumbent&mdash;not,
+as he told his friend,
+because he thought it necessary so
+to do, but to keep the word which he
+had given the night before&mdash;viz., to
+pass the day with him. He was sorry
+that he had been deprived of their
+company at his own abode, but he
+could make himself quite comfortable
+where he was. About eleven o'clock
+at night the doctor thought it strange
+that Robin had not brought his pony
+over, and wondered what had happened.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shall we send to enquire?&quot; asked
+Mr Fairman.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no!&quot; was the quick answer,
+&quot;that never can be worth while.
+We'll wait a little longer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At twelve the doctor spoke again.
+&quot;Well, he must think of moving; but
+he was very tired, and did not care
+to walk.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why not stay here, then? I cannot
+see, Mayhew, why you should be
+so uneasy at the thought of sleeping
+out. Come, take your bed with us for
+once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Eh?&mdash;well&mdash;it's very late&mdash;suppose
+I do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mayhew had not been shrewd enough,
+and, with his ready acquiescence, the
+minister learned all.</p>
+
+<p>I did not go to bed. My place was
+at her door, and there I lingered till the
+morning. The physician had paid his
+last visit shortly after midnight, and had
+given orders to the nurse who waited
+on the patient, to call him up if necessary,
+but on no account to disturb the
+lady if she slept or was composed.
+The gentle sufferer did not require his
+services, or, if she did, was too thoughtful
+and too kind to make it known.
+Early in the morning Doctor Mayhew
+came&mdash;the fever had increased&mdash;and
+she had experienced a new attack of
+h&aelig;moptysis the moment she awoke.
+The doctor stepped softly from her
+room, and deep anxiety was written on
+his brow. I followed him with eagerness.
+He put his finger to his lips,
+and said, &quot;Remember, Stukely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I will&mdash;I do; but, is she better?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No&mdash;but I am not discouraged yet.
+Every thing depends upon extreme
+tranquillity. No one must see her.
+Dear me, dear me! what is to be said
+to Fairman, should he ask?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is she placid?&quot; I enquired.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is an angel, Stukely,&quot; said the
+good doctor, pressing my hands, and
+passing on. When we met at breakfast,
+the incumbent looked hard at me,
+and seemed to gather something from
+my pale and careworn face. When
+Mayhew came, full of bustle, assumed,
+and badly too, as the shallowest observer
+could perceive, he turned to him, and
+in a quiet voice asked &quot;if his child
+was much worse since the previous
+night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not much,&quot; said Mayhew. &quot;She
+will be better in a short time, I trust.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;May I see her?&quot; enquired the father
+in the same soft tone.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not now&mdash;by and by perhaps&mdash;I
+hope to-morrow. This is a sudden attack&mdash;you
+see&mdash;any excitement may
+prolong it&mdash;it wouldn't be well to give
+a chance away. Don't you see that,
+Fairman?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said the minister, and from
+that moment made no further mention
+of his daughter during breakfast. The
+meal was soon dispatched. Mr Fairman
+retired to his study&mdash;and the doctor
+prepared for his departure. He
+promised to return in the afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank God!&quot; he exclaimed, as he
+took leave of me at the gate, &quot;that
+Fairman remains so very unsuspicious.
+This is not like him. I expected to
+find him more inquisitive.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am surprised,&quot; I answered; &quot;but
+it is most desirable that he should continue
+so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes&mdash;yes&mdash;by all means&mdash;for the
+present at all events.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Throughout the day there was no
+improvement in the patient's symptoms.
+The physician came according
+to his promise, and again at night. He
+slept at the parsonage for the second
+time. The minister betrayed no wonder
+at this unusual act, showed no agitation,
+made no importunate enquiries.
+He asked frequently during the day if
+any amendment had taken place; but
+always in a gentle voice, and without
+any other reference to her illness. As
+often as the doctor came, he repeated
+his wish to visit his dear child, but, receiving
+for answer &quot;that he had better
+not at present,&quot; he retired to his
+study with a tremulous sigh, but offering
+no remonstrance.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor went early to rest. He
+had no inclination to spend the evening
+with his friend, whom he hardly
+cared to see until he could meet him
+as the messenger of good tidings. I
+had resolved to hover, as I did before,
+near the mournful chamber in which
+she lay; and there I kept a weary
+watch until my eyes refused to serve
+me longer, and I was forced against my
+will, and for the sake of others, to yield
+my place and crawl to my repose. As
+I walked stealthily through the house,
+and on tiptoe, fearful of disturbing one
+beloved inmate even by a breath&mdash;I
+passed the incumbent's study. The
+door was open, and a glare of light
+broke from it, and stretched across the
+passage. I hesitated for a moment&mdash;then
+listened&mdash;but, hearing nothing,
+pursued my way. It was very strange.
+The clock had just before struck three,
+and the minister, it was supposed, had
+been in bed since midnight. &quot;His
+lamp is burning,&quot; thought I&mdash;&quot;he has
+forgotten it.&quot; I was on the point of
+entering the apartment&mdash;when I was
+deterred and startled by his voice. My
+hand was already on the door, and I
+looked in. Before me, on his knees,
+with his back towards me, was my revered
+friend&mdash;his hands clasped, and his
+head raised in supplication. He was
+in his dress of day, and had evidently
+not yet visited his pillow. I
+waited, and he spoke&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not my will,&quot; he exclaimed in a
+piercing tone of prayer&mdash;&quot;not mine,
+but thy kind will be done, O Lord!
+If it be possible, let the bitter cup pass
+from me&mdash;but spare not, if thy glory
+must needs be vindicated. Bring me
+to thy feet in meek, and humble, and
+believing confidence&mdash;all is well, then,
+for time and for eternity. It is merciful
+and good to remove the idol that
+stands between our love and God.
+Father of mercy&mdash;enable me to bring
+the truth <i>home, home</i> to this most
+traitorous&mdash;this lukewarm, earthy heart
+of mine&mdash;a heart not worthy of thy
+care and help. Let me not murmur at
+thy gracious will&mdash;oh, rather bend and
+bow to it&mdash;and kiss the rod that punishes.
+I need chastisement&mdash;for I
+have loved too well&mdash;too fondly. I am
+a rebel, and thy all-searching eye hath
+found me faithless in thy service. Take
+her, Father and Saviour&mdash;I will resign
+her&mdash;I will bless the hand that smites
+me&mdash;I will&quot;&mdash;he stopped; and big
+tears, such as drop fearfully from manhood's
+eye, made known to heaven the
+agony that tears a parent's heart, whilst
+piety is occupied in healing it.</p>
+
+<p>It is not my purpose to recite the
+doubts and fears, the terrible suspense,
+the anxious hopes, that filled the hours
+which passed whilst the condition of
+the patient remained critical. It is a
+recital which the reader may well
+spare, and I avoid most gladly. At
+the end of a week, the fever departed
+from the sufferer. The alarming symptoms
+disappeared, and confidence flowed
+rapidly to the soul again. At this
+time the father paid his first visit to
+his child. He found her weak and
+wasted; the violent applications which
+had been necessary for safety had
+robbed her of all strength&mdash;had effected,
+in fact, a prostration of power, which
+she never recovered, from which she
+never rallied. Mr Fairman was greatly
+shocked, and asked the physician for
+his opinion <i>now</i>. The latter declined
+giving it until, as he expressed himself,
+&quot;the effects of the fever, and her attack,
+had left him a fair and open field
+for observation. There was a slight
+cough upon her. It was impossible
+for the present to say, whether it was
+temporary and dependent upon what
+had happened, or whether it resulted
+from actual mischief in her lung.&quot;</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+
+<p>A month has passed away since the
+physician spoke these words, and to
+doubt longer would be to gaze upon
+the sun and to question its brightness.
+Mayhew has told the father his worst
+fears, and bids him prepare like a Christian
+and a man for the loss of his earthly
+treasure. It was he who watched
+the decay of her mother. The case is
+a similar one. He has no consolation
+to offer. It must be sought at the
+throne of Him who giveth, and
+hath the right to take away. The
+minister receives the intelligence with
+admirable fortitude. We are sitting
+together, and the doctor has just spoken
+as becomes him, seriously and well.
+There is a spasm on the cheek of the
+incumbent, whilst I sob loudly. The
+latter takes me by the hand, and
+speaks to the physician in a low and
+hesitating tone.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mayhew,&quot; said he, &quot;I thank you
+for this sincerity. I will endeavour to
+look the terror in the face, as I have
+struggled to do for many days. It is
+hard&mdash;but through the mercy of Christ
+it is not impracticable. Dear and oldest
+friend, unite your prayers with
+mine, for strength, and holiness, and
+resignation. Cloud and agitation are
+at our feet. Heaven is above us. Let
+us look there, and all is well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>We knelt. The minister prayed.
+He did not ask his Master to suspend
+his judgments. He implored him to
+prepare the soul of the afflicted one for
+its early flight, and to subdue the hearts
+of them all with his grace and holy
+spirit. Let him who doubts the efficacy
+of <i>prayer</i> seek to clear his difficulty
+in the season of affliction, or
+when death sits grimly at the hearth&mdash;he
+shall be satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>If it were a consolation and a joy
+in the midst of our tribulation to behold
+the father chastened by the heavy
+blow which had fallen so suddenly
+upon his age, how shall I express the
+ineffable delight&mdash;yes, delight, amidst
+sorrow the most severe&mdash;with which
+I contemplated the beloved maiden,
+upon whose tender years Providence
+had allowed to fall so great a trial.
+Fully sensible of her position, and of
+the near approach of death, she was,
+so long as she could see her parent and
+her lover without distress, patient,
+cheerful, and rejoicing. Yes, weaker
+and weaker as she grew, happier and
+happier she became in the consciousness
+of her pure soul's increase. Into
+her ear had been whispered, and before
+her eyes holy spirits had appeared
+with the mysterious communication,
+which, hidden as it is from us, we find
+animating and sustaining feeble nature,
+which else would sink, appalled and
+overwhelmed. There was not one of
+us who did not live a witness to the
+truth of the heavenly promise, &quot;<i>as thy
+days, so shall thy strength be</i>;&quot; not one
+amongst the dearest friends of the sufferer,
+who did not feel, in the height of
+his affliction, that God would not cast
+upon his creatures a burden which a
+Christian might not bear. But to <i>her</i>
+especially came the celestial declaration
+with power and might. An angel,
+sojourning for a day upon the earth,
+and preparing for his homeward flight,
+could not have spread his ready wing
+more joyfully, with livelier anticipation
+of his native bliss, than did the maiden
+look for her recall and blest ascension
+to the skies. In her presence I had
+seldom any grief; it was swallowed up
+and lost in gratitude for the victory
+which the dear one had achieved, in
+virtue of her faith, over all the horrors
+of her situation. It was when alone
+that I saw, in its reality and naked
+wretchedness, the visitation that I,
+more than any other, was doomed to
+suffer. For days I could scarcely bring
+myself to the calm consideration of it.
+It seemed unreal, impossible, a dream&mdash;any
+thing but what it was&mdash;the direst
+of worldly woes&mdash;the most tremendous
+of human punishments.</p>
+
+<p>I remember vividly a day passed in
+the chamber of the resigned creature,
+about two months after the first indication
+of her illness. Her disease had
+increased rapidly, and the signs of its
+ravages were painfully manifest in her
+sunken eye, her hectic cheek, her hollow
+voice, her continual cough. Her
+spirit became more tranquil as her body
+retreated from the world&mdash;her hopes
+more firm, her belief in the love of her
+Saviour&mdash;his will and power to save
+her, more clear, and free from all perplexity.
+I had never beheld so beautiful
+a sight as the devoted maid presented
+to my view. I had never supposed
+it possible to exist; and thus, as
+I sat at her side, though the thought of
+death was ever present, it was as of a
+terror in a milkwhite shroud&mdash;a monster
+enveloped and concealed beneath
+a robe of beauty. I listened to her
+with enchantment whilst she spoke of
+the littleness of this world, and the
+boundless happiness that awaited true
+believers in the next&mdash;of the unutterable
+mercy of God, in removing us
+from a scene of trouble whilst our
+views were cloudless, and our hopes
+sure and abiding. Yes, charmed by the
+unruffled air, the angelic look, I could
+forget even my mortality for a moment,
+and feel my living soul in
+deep communion with a superior and
+brighter spirit. It was when she recalled
+me to earth by a reminiscence
+of our first days of love, that the
+bruised heart was made sensible of
+pain, and of its lonely widowed lot.
+Then the tears would not be checked,
+but rushed passionately forth, and, as
+the clouds shut out and hid the one
+brief glimpse of heaven, flowed unrestrained.</p>
+
+<p>Her mind was in a sweet composed
+state during the interview to which I
+allude. She had pleasure in referring
+to the days of her childhood, and in
+speaking of the happiness which she
+had found amongst her native hills.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How little, Caleb,&quot; she said, &quot;is
+the mind occupied with thoughts
+of death in childhood&mdash;with any
+thoughts of actual lasting evil! We
+cannot see these things in childhood&mdash;we
+cannot penetrate so deeply or
+throw our gaze so far, we are so
+occupied with the joys that are round
+about us. Is it not so? Our parents
+are ever with us. Day succeeds to
+day&mdash;one so like the other&mdash;and our
+home becomes our world. A sorrow
+comes at length&mdash;a parent dies&mdash;the
+first and dearest object in that world;
+then all is known, and the stability of
+life becomes suspected.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The home of many,&quot; I replied,
+&quot;is undisturbed for years!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, and how sweet a thing is love
+of home! It is not acquired, I am
+sure. It is a feeling that has its
+origin elsewhere. It is born with us;
+brought from another world, to carry
+us on in this with joy. It attaches to
+the humblest heart that ever throbbed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear Ellen!&quot; I exclaimed, &quot;how
+little has sorrow to do with your affliction!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And why, dear Caleb? Have you
+never found that the difficulties of the
+broad day melt away beneath the influences
+of the quiet lovely night?
+Have you never been perplexed in the
+bustle and tumult of the day, and has
+not truth revealed itself when all was
+dark and still? This is my night, and
+in sickness I have seen the eye of God
+upon me, and heard his words, as I
+have never seen and heard before?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was in this manner that she would
+talk, not more disturbed, nay, not so
+much, as when in happier times I
+never heard her speak of the troubles
+and anxieties of her poor villagers.
+No complaint&mdash;no mournful accents
+escaped her lips. If at times the soaring
+spirit was repressed, dejected,
+the living&mdash;the loved ones whom she
+must leave behind her had possession
+of her thoughts, and loaded them
+with pain. Who would wait upon
+her father? Who would attend to all
+his little wants? Who could understand
+his nature as she had learnt it&mdash;and
+who would live to comfort and to
+cheer his days? These questions she
+has asked herself, whilst her only
+answers have been her struggling
+tears.</p>
+
+<p>The days were travelling fast; each
+one taking from the doomed girl&mdash;years
+of life. She dwindled and wasted;
+and became at length less than a
+shadow of her former self. Why
+linger on the narrative? Autumn arrived,
+and, with the general decay&mdash;she
+died. A few hours before her
+death she summoned me to her bedside,
+and acquainted me with her fast-approaching
+dissolution. &quot;It is the
+day,&quot; she said, speaking with difficulty&mdash;&quot;I
+am sure of it. I have watched
+that branch for many days&mdash;look&mdash;it
+is quite bare. Its last yellow leaf has
+fallen&mdash;I shall not survive it.&quot; I gazed
+upon her; her eye was brighter than
+ever. It sparkled again, and most
+beautiful she looked. But death was
+there&mdash;and her soul eager to give him
+all that he could claim!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are quite happy, dearest
+Ellen!&quot; I exclaimed, weeping on her
+thin emaciated hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Most happy, beloved. Do not
+grieve&mdash;be resigned&mdash;be joyful. I have
+a word to say. Nurse,&quot; she continued,
+calling to her attendant&mdash;&quot;the drawing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The nurse placed in her hand the
+sketch which she had taken of my
+favourite scene.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you remember, love?&quot; said
+she. &quot;Keep it, for Ellen&mdash;you loved
+that spot&mdash;oh, so did I!--and you will
+love it still. There is another sketch,
+you will find it by and by&mdash;afterwards&mdash;when
+I am&mdash;&mdash;It is in my desk.
+Keep that too, for Ellen, will you?
+It is the last drawing I have
+made.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I sat by and bit my lips to crush my
+grief, but I would not be silent whilst
+my heart as breaking.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You should rejoice, dear,&quot; continued
+Ellen solemnly. &quot;We did not
+expect this separation so very soon;
+but it is better now than later. Be
+sure it is merciful and good. Prepare
+for this hour, Caleb; and when it
+comes, you will be so calm, so ready
+to depart. How short is life! Do not
+waste the precious hours. Read from
+St John, dearest&mdash;the eleventh chapter.
+It is all sweetness and consolation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The sun was dropping slowly into
+the west, leaving behind him a deep
+red glow that illuminated the hills, and
+burnished the windows of the sick-chamber.
+The wind moaned, and,
+sweeping the sere leaves at intervals,
+threatened a tempest. There was a
+solemn stillness in the parsonage,
+around whose gate&mdash;weeping in silence,
+without heart to speak, or wish
+to make their sorrow known&mdash;were
+collected a host of humble creatures&mdash;the
+poorest but sincerest friends of
+Ellen&mdash;the villagers who had been her
+care. They waited and lingered for
+the heavy news, which they were told
+must come to them this day; and
+prayed secretly&mdash;every one of them,
+old and young&mdash;for mercy on the sufferer's
+soul! And she, whose gentle
+spirit is about to flit, lies peacefully,
+and but half-conscious of the sounds
+that pass to heaven on her behalf.
+Her father, Mayhew, and I, kneel
+round her bed, and the minister in supplicating
+tones, where nature does not
+interpose, dedicates the virgin to <i>His</i>
+favour whose love she has applied so
+well. He ceases, for a whisper has
+escaped her lips. We listen all.
+&quot;<i>Oh, this is peace</i>!&quot; she utters faintly,
+but most audibly, and the scene is
+over.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a dream,&quot; said the minister,
+when we parted for the night&mdash;I with
+the vain hope to forget in sleep the
+circumstances of the day&mdash;the father
+to stray unwittingly into <i>her</i> former
+room, and amongst the hundred objects
+connected with the happy memory
+of the departed.</p>
+
+<p>The picture of which my Ellen had
+spoken, I obtained on the following
+day. It was a drawing of the church
+and the burial-ground adjoining it.
+One grave was open. It represented
+that in which her own mortal remains
+were deposited, amidst the unavailing
+lamentations of a mourning village.</p>
+
+<p>In three months the incumbent quitted
+Devonshire. The scenery had no
+pleasure for him, associated as it was
+with all the sorrows of his life. His
+pupils returned to their homes. He
+had offered to retain them, and to retain
+his incumbency for the sake of
+my advancement; but, whilst I saw
+that every hour spent in the village
+brought with it new bitterness and
+grief, I was not willing to call upon
+him for so great a sacrifice. Such
+a step, indeed, was rendered unnecessary
+through the kind help of Dr Mayhew,
+to whom I owe my present situation,
+which I have held for forty years
+with pleasure and contentment. Mr
+Fairman retired to a distant part of
+the kingdom, where the condition of
+the people rendered the presence of an
+active minister of God a privilege and
+a blessing. In the service of his
+Master, in the securing of the happiness
+of other men, he strove for
+years to deaden the pain of his own
+crushed heart. And he succeeded&mdash;living
+to bless the wisdom which had
+carried him through temptation; and
+dying, at last, to meet with the reward
+conferred upon the man <i>who, by patient
+continuance in well-doing, seeks for glory,
+and honour, and immortality</i>&mdash;ETERNAL
+LIFE.</p>
+
+<p>The employment obtained for me by
+the kind interest of Dr Mayhew, which
+the return of so many summers and
+winters has found me steadily prosecuting,
+was in the house of his brother&mdash;a
+gentleman whose name is amongst
+the first in a profession adorned by a
+greater number of high-minded, honourable
+men, than the world generally
+is willing to allow. Glad to avail
+myself of comparative repose, an active
+occupation, and a certain livelihood, I
+did not hesitate to enter his office in
+the humble capacity of clerk. I have
+lived to become the confidential secretary
+and faithful friend of my respected
+principal.</p>
+
+<p>As I have progressed noiselessly in
+the world, and rather as a spectator
+than an actor on the broad stage of
+life, it has been no unprofitable task
+to trace the career of those with whom
+I formed an intimacy during the bustle
+and excitement of my boyhood. Not
+many months after my introduction
+into the mysteries of law, tidings reached
+my ears concerning Mr Clayton.
+He had left his chapel suddenly. His
+avarice had led him deeper and deeper
+into guilt; speculation followed speculation,
+until he found himself entangled
+in difficulties, from which, by
+lawful means, he was unable to extricate
+himself. He forged the signature
+of a wealthy member of his congregation,
+and thus added another knot to
+the complicated string of his delinquencies.
+He was discovered. There
+was not a man aware of the circumstances
+of the case who was not satisfied
+of his guilt; but a legal quibble
+saved him, and he was sent into the
+world again, branded with the solemn
+reprimand of the judge who tried him
+for his life, and who bade him seek existence
+honestly&mdash;compelled to labour,
+as he would be, in a humbler sphere of
+life than that in which he had hitherto
+employed his undoubted talents. To
+those acquainted with the working of
+the unhappy system of <i>dissent</i>, it will
+not be a matter of surprise that the
+result was not such as the good judge
+anticipated. It so happened that, at
+the time of Mr Clayton's acquittal, a
+dispute arose between the minister of
+his former congregation and certain
+influential members of the same. The
+latter, headed by a fruiterer, a very turbulent
+and conceited personage, separated
+from what they called the <i>church</i>,
+and set up another <i>church</i> in opposition.
+The meeting-house was built,
+and the only question that remained
+to agitate the pious minds of the half-dozen
+founders was&mdash;<i>How to let the
+pews</i>! Mr CLAYTON, more popular
+amongst his set than ever, was invited
+to accept the duties of a pastor. He
+consented, and had the pews been
+trebled they would not have satisfied
+one half the applications which, in one
+month, were showered on the victorious
+schismatics. Here, for a few
+years, Mr Clayton continued; his character
+improved, his fame more triumphant,
+his godliness more spiritual
+and pure than it had been even before
+he committed the crime of forgery.
+His ruling passion, notwithstanding,
+kept firm hold of his soul, and very
+soon betrayed him into the commission
+of new offences. He fled from London,
+and I lost sight of him. At
+length I discovered that he was preaching
+in one of the northern counties,
+and with greater success than ever&mdash;yes,
+such is the fallacy of the system&mdash;with
+the approbation of men, and the
+idolatry of women, to whom the history
+of his career was as familiar as
+their own. Again circumstances compelled
+him to decamp. I know not
+what these were, nor could I ever
+learn; satisfied, however, that from
+his nature <i>money</i> must have been in
+close connexion with them, I expected
+soon to hear of him again; and
+I did hear, but not for years. The
+information that last of all I gained
+was, that he had sold his noble faculties
+<i>undisguisedly</i> to the arch enemy of
+man. He had become the editor of
+one of the lowest newspaper of the
+metropolis, notorious for its Radical
+politics and atheistical blasphemies.</p>
+
+<p>Honest, faithful and unimpeachable
+John Thompson! Friend, husband,
+father&mdash;sound in every relation of this
+life&mdash;thou noble-hearted Englishman!
+Let me not say thy race is yet extinct.
+No; in spite of the change that has
+come over the spirit of our land&mdash;in
+spite of the rust that eats into men's
+souls, eternally racked with thoughts
+of gain and traffic&mdash;in spite of the
+cursed poison insidiously dropped beneath
+the cottage eaves, by reckless,
+needy demagogues, I trust my native
+land, and still believe, that on her lap
+she cherishes whole bands of faithful
+children, and firm patriots. Not
+amongst the least inducements to return
+to London was the advantage of
+a residence near to that of my best
+friend and truest counsellor. I cannot
+number the days which I have spent
+with him and his unequalled family&mdash;unequalled
+in their unanimity and love.
+For years, no Sunday passed which
+did not find me at their hospitable
+board; a companion afterwards in their
+country walks, and at the evening service
+of their parish church. The children
+were men and women before it
+pleased Providence to remove their
+sire. How like his life was good John
+Thompson's death! Full of years,
+but with his mental vision clear as in
+its dawn, aware of his decline, he called
+his family about his bed, and to the
+weeping group spoke firmly and most
+cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He had lived his time,&quot; he said,
+&quot;and long enough to see his children
+doing well. There was not one who
+caused him pain and fear&mdash;and that
+was more than every father of a family
+could say&mdash;thank God for it! He
+didn't know that he had much to ask
+of any one of them. If they continued
+to work hard, he left enough behind
+to buy them tools; and if they didn't,
+the little money he had saved would
+be of very little use. There was their
+mother. He needn't tell 'em to be
+kind to her, because their feelings
+wouldn't let them do no otherwise.
+As for advice, he'd give it to them
+in his own plain way. First and foremost,
+he hoped <i>they never would sew
+their mouths up</i>&mdash;never act in such a
+way as to make themselves ashamed
+of speaking like a man;&quot; and then he
+recommended strongly that <i>they should
+touch no bills but such as they might cut
+wood with</i>. The worst that could befall
+'em would be a cut upon the finger;
+and if they handled other bills they'd
+cut their heads off in the end, be sure
+of it. &quot;Alec,&quot; said he at last,&mdash;&quot;you
+fetch me bundle of good sticks. Get
+them from the workshop.&quot; Alec
+brought them, and the sire continued,&mdash;&quot;Now,
+just break one a-piece.
+There, that's right&mdash;now, try and break
+them altogether. No, no, my boys,
+you can't do that, nor can the world
+break you so long as you hold fast
+and well together. Disagree and separate,
+and nothing is more easy. If a year
+goes bad with one, let the others see
+to make it up. Live united, do your
+duty, and leave the rest to heaven.&quot;
+So Thompson spake; such was the
+legacy he left to those who knew from
+his good precept and example how to
+profit by it. My friendship with his
+children has grown and ripened. They
+are thriving men. Alec has inherited
+the nature of his father more than any
+other son. All go smoothly on in
+life, paying little regard to the broils
+and contests of external life, but most
+attentive to the <i>in-door</i> business. All,
+did I say?&mdash;I err. Exception must
+be made in favour of my excellent good
+friend, Mr Robert Thompson. He has
+in him something of the spirit of his
+mother, and finds fault where his
+brethren are most docile. Catholic
+emancipation he regarded with horror&mdash;the
+Reform bill with indignation;
+and the onward movement of the present
+day he looks at with the feelings
+of an individual waiting for an earthquake.
+He is sure that the world is
+going round the other way, or is turned
+topsy-turvy, or is coming to an end.
+He is the quietest and best disposed
+man in his parish&mdash;his moral character
+is without a flaw&mdash;his honesty
+without a blemish, yet is his mind
+filled with designs which would astonish
+the strongest head that rebel ever
+wore. He talks calmly of the propriety
+of hanging, without trial, all
+publishers of immorality and sedition&mdash;of
+putting embryo rioters to death,
+and granting them a judicial examination
+as soon as possible afterwards.
+Dissenting meeting-houses he would
+shut up instanter, and guard with
+soldiers to prevent irregularity or
+disobedience. &quot;Things,&quot; he says, &quot;are
+twisted since his father was a boy, and
+must be twisted back&mdash;by force&mdash;to
+their right place again. Ordinary
+measures are less than useless for
+extraordinary times, and he only wishes
+he had power, or was prime-minister
+for a day or two.&quot; But for this unfortunate
+<i>monomania</i>, the Queen has not a
+better subject, London has not a worthier
+citizen than the plain spoken,
+simple-hearted Robert Thompson.</p>
+
+<p>In one of the most fashionable streets
+of London, and within a few doors of
+the residence of royalty, is a stylish
+house, which always looks as if it were
+newly painted, furnished, and decorated.
+The very imperfect knowledge
+which a passer-by may gain, denotes
+the existence of great wealth within the
+clean and shining walls. Nine times
+out of ten shall you behold, standing at
+the door, a splendid equipage&mdash;a britzka
+or barouche. The appointments
+are of the richest kind&mdash;the servants'
+livery gaudiest of the gaudy&mdash;silvery
+are their buttons, and silver-gilt the
+horses' harness. Stay, whilst the big
+door opens, and then mark the owner
+of the house and britzka. A distinguished
+foreigner, you say, of forty, or
+thereabouts. He seems dressed in
+livery himself; for all the colours of
+the rainbow are upon him. Gold
+chains across his breast&mdash;how many
+you cannot count at once&mdash;intersect
+each other curiously; and on every
+finger sparkles a precious jewel, or a
+host of jewels. Thick mustaches
+and a thicker beard adorn the foreign
+face; but a certain air which it assumes,
+convinces you without delay
+that it is the property of an unmitigated
+blackguard. Reader, you see the
+ready Ikey, whom we have met oftener
+than once in this short history. Would
+you know more? Be satisfied to learn,
+that he exists upon the follies and the
+vices of our high nobility. He has
+made good the promises of his childhood
+and his youth. He rolls in riches,
+and is&mdash;&mdash;a fashionable money-lender.</p>
+
+<p>Dark were the shadows which fell
+upon my youth. The indulgent
+reader has not failed to note them&mdash;with
+pain it may be&mdash;and yet, I trust, not
+without improvement. Yes, sad and
+gloomy has been the picture, and light
+has gleamed but feebly there. It has
+been otherwise since I carried, for my
+comfort and support, the memory of
+my beloved Ellen into the serious employment
+of my later years. With the
+catastrophe of her decease, commenced
+another era of my existence&mdash;the era
+of self-denial, patience, sobriety,
+and resignation. Her example dropped
+with silent power into my soul,
+and wrought its preservation. Struck
+to the earth by the immediate blow,
+and rising slowly from it, I did not
+mourn her loss as men are wont to
+grieve at the departure of all they hold
+most dear. Think when I would of
+her, in the solemn watches of the
+night, in the turmoil of the bustling
+day&mdash;a saint beatified, a spirit of purity
+and love&mdash;hovered above me, smiling
+in its triumphant bliss, and whispering&mdash;&mdash;peace.
+My lamentation was intercepted
+by my joy. And so throughout
+have I been irritated by the small annoyances
+of the world, her radiant countenance&mdash;as
+it looked sweetly even upon
+death&mdash;has risen to shame and silence
+my complaint. Repining at my humble
+lot, her words&mdash;that estimated well
+the value, the nothingness of life compared
+with life eternal&mdash;have spoken
+the effectual reproof. As we advance
+in years, the old familiar faces gradually
+retreat and fade at length entirely.
+Forty long years have passed,
+and on this bright spring morning the
+gentle Ellen steals upon the lawn, unaltered
+by the lapse of time. Her
+slender arm is twined in mine, and her
+eye fills with innocent delight. Not
+an hour of age is added to her face,
+although the century was not yet born
+when last I gazed upon its meek and
+simple loveliness. She vanishes. Is it
+her voice that through the window
+flows, borne on the bosom of the vernal
+wind? Angel of Light, I wait
+thy bidding to rejoin thee!</p>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+
+<a name="bw329s9" id="bw329s9"></a><h2>COMMERCIAL POLICY.</h2>
+
+<h3>SPAIN.</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>The extraordinary breadth and
+boldness of the fiscal measures propounded
+and carried out at once in
+the past year with vigour and promptitude
+no less extraordinary, wisely
+calculated of themselves, as they may
+be, perhaps, and so far experience is
+assumed to have confirmed, to exercise
+a salutary bearing upon the physical
+condition of the people, and to reanimate
+the drooping energies of the
+country, can, however, receive the
+full, the just development of all the
+large and beneficial consequences
+promised, only as commercial intercourse
+is extended, as new marts are
+opened, and as hostile tariffs are mitigated
+or abated, by which former
+markets have been comparatively
+closed against the products of British
+industry. The fiscal changes already
+operated, may be said to have laid the
+foundation, and prepared the way, for
+this extension and revival of our foreign
+commercial relations; but it remains
+alone for our commercial policy
+to raise the superstructure and
+consummate the work, if the foundations
+be of such solidity as we are
+assured on high authority they are.
+In the promotion of national prosperity,
+colonization may prove a gradually
+efficient auxiliary; but as a remedy
+for present ills, its action must evidently
+be too slow and restricted; and
+even though it should be impelled to
+a geometrical ratio of progression,
+still would the prospect of effectual relief
+be discernible only through a vista
+of years. Meanwhile, time presses,
+and the patient might perish if condemned
+alone to the hom&oelig;opathic
+process of infinitesimal doses of relief.</p>
+
+<p>The statesman who entered upon
+the Government with his scheme of
+policy, reflected and silently matured
+as a whole, (as we may take for
+granted,) with principles determined,
+and his course chalked out in a right
+line, was not, assuredly, tardy, whilst
+engaged with the work of fiscal revision,
+in proceeding practically to the
+enlargement of the basis of the commercial
+system of the empire. An
+advantageous treaty of commerce with
+the young but rising republic of Monte
+Video, rewarded his first exertions,
+and is there to attest also the zealous
+co-operation of his able and accomplished
+colleague, Lord Aberdeen. This
+treaty is not important only in reference
+to the greater facilities and increase
+of trade, conceded with the provinces
+on the right bank of the river Plate,
+and of the Uruguay and Parana, but
+inasmuch also as, in the possible failure
+of the negotiations for the renewal
+of the commercial treaty with Brazil,
+now approaching its term, it cannot
+fail to secure easy access for British
+wares in the territory of Rio Grande, lying
+on the borders of the republic of
+the Uruguay, and far the most extensive,
+though not the most populous, of
+Brazilian provinces; and this in despite
+of the Government of Brazil,
+which does not, and cannot, possess the
+means for repressing its intercourse
+with Monte Video, even though its
+possession and authority were as absolute
+and acknowledged in Rio
+Grande as they are decidedly the reverse.
+The next, and the more difficult,
+achievement of Conservative diplomacy
+resulted in the ratification of a
+supplementary commercial convention
+with Russia. We say difficult, because
+the iron-bound exclusiveness
+and isolation of the commercial, as
+well as of the political, system of St
+Petersburg, is sufficiently notorious;
+and it must have required no small
+exercise of sagacity and address to
+overcome the known disinclination of
+that Cabinet to any relaxation of the
+restrictive policy which, as the Autocrat
+lately observed to a distinguished
+personage, &quot;had been handed down
+to him from his ancestors, and was
+found to work well for the interests of
+his empire.&quot; The peculiar merits of
+this treaty are as little understood,
+however, as they have been unjustly
+depreciated in some quarters, and the
+obstacles to the accomplishment overlooked.
+It will be sufficient to state,
+on the present occasion, that notice
+had been given by the Russian Government,
+of the resolution to subject
+British shipping, importing produce
+other than of British, or British colonial
+origin, to the payment of differential
+or discriminating duties on entrance
+into Russian ports. The result
+of such a measure would have been
+to put an entire stop to that branch
+of the carrying trade, which consisted
+in supplying the Russian market
+with the produce of other European
+countries, and of Brazil, Cuba,
+and elsewhere, direct in British
+bottoms. To avert this determination,
+representations were not spared,
+and at length negotiations were
+consented to. But for some time they
+wore but an unpromising appearance,
+were more than once suspended, if
+not broken off, and little, if any, disposition
+was exhibited on the part of
+the Russian Government to listen to
+terms of compromise. After upwards
+of twelvemonths' delay, hesitation,
+and diplomacy, the arrangement was
+finally completed, which was laid before
+Parliament at the commencement
+of the session. It may be accepted as
+conclusive evidence of the tact and
+skill of the British negotiators, that,
+in return for waiving the alterations
+before alluded to, and leaving British
+shipping entitled to the same privileges
+as before, it was agreed that the produce
+of Russian Poland, shipped from
+Prussian ports in Russian vessels,
+should be admissible into the ports of
+Great Britain on the same conditions
+of duty as if coming direct and loaded
+from Russian ports. As the greater
+part of Russian Poland lies inland,
+and communicates with the sea only
+through the Prussian ports, it was no
+more than just and reasonable that
+Russian Polish produce so brought to
+the coast&mdash;to Dantzig, for example&mdash;should
+be admissible here in Russian
+bottoms on the same footing as if from
+a Russian port. To this country it
+could be a matter of slight import
+whether such portion of the produce
+so shipped in Prussian ports as was
+carried in foreign, and not in British
+bottoms, came in Russian vessels or
+in those of Prussia, as before. To
+Russia, however, the boon was clearly
+of considerable interest, and valued
+accordingly. In the mean time, British
+shipping retains its former position,
+in respect of the carriage of foreign
+produce; and, however hostile
+Russian tariffs may be to British manufactured
+products&mdash;as hostile to the
+last degree they are, as well as against
+the manufactured wares of all other
+States&mdash;it is undeniable that our commercial
+marine enjoys a large proportion
+of the carrying trade with Russia&mdash;almost
+a monopoly, in fact, of the
+carrying trade between the two countries
+direct. Of 1147 foreign ships
+which sailed with cargoes during the
+year 1842 from the port of Cronstadt,
+515 were British, with destination direct
+to the ports of the United Kingdom,
+whilst only forty-one foreign or Russian
+vessels were loaded and left during
+that year for British ports. Of 525
+British vessels, of the aggregate burden
+of nearly 118,000 tons, which anchored
+in the roadstead of Cronstadt
+in that year, 472 were direct from the
+United Kingdom, and fifty-three from
+various other countries, such as the
+two Sicilies, Spain, Cuba, South America,
+&amp;c. The number of British
+vessels which entered the port of St
+Petersburg, as Cronstadt in fact is,
+was more considerable still in 1840
+and 1841&mdash;having been in the first
+year, 662, of the aggregate burden
+of 146,682 tons; in the latter, of
+645 ships and 146,415 tons. Of
+the total average number of vessels
+by which the foreign trade of that empire
+is carried on, and load and leave
+the ports of Russia yearly, which, in
+round numbers, may be taken at
+about 6000, of an aggregate tonnage
+of 1,000,000&mdash;ships sailing on ballast
+not comprehended&mdash;the average number
+of ships under the Russian flag,
+comprised in the estimate, does not
+much, if any, exceed 1000, of the aggregate
+burden of 150 or 160,000 tons.
+This digression, though it has led us
+further astray from our main object
+than we had contemplated, will not
+be without its uses, if it serve to correct
+some exaggerated notions which
+prevail about the comparative valuelessness
+of our commerce with Russia,
+because of its assumed entire one-sidedness&mdash;losing
+sight altogether of
+its vast consequence to the shipping
+interest; and of the freightage, which
+is as much an article of commerce and
+profit as cottons and woollens; oblivious,
+moreover, of the great political
+question involved in the maintenance
+and aggrandisement of that shipping
+interest, which must be taken to
+account by the statesman and the patriot
+as redressing to no inconsiderable
+extent the adverse action of unfriendly
+tariffs. It is only after careful
+ponderance of these and other combined
+considerations, that the value of
+any trading relations with Russia can
+be clearly understood, and that the
+importance of the supplementary
+treaty of navigation recently carried
+through, with success proportioned
+to the remarkable ability and perseverance
+displayed, can be duly appreciated.
+It is, undoubtedly, the
+special economical event of the day,
+upon which the commercial, and
+scarcely less the political, diplomacy
+of the Government may be most justly
+complimented for its mastery of prejudices
+and impediments, which, under
+the circumstances, and in view of the
+peculiar system to be combated, appeared
+almost insurmountable. Common
+honesty and candour must compel
+this acknowledgment, even from
+men so desperate in their antipathies
+to the political system of Russia, as
+Mr Urquhart or Mr Cargill&mdash;antipathies,
+by the way, with which we shall
+not hesitate to express a certain measure
+of participation.</p>
+
+<p>We shall not dwell upon those
+other negotiations, now and for some
+time past in active progress with
+France, with Brazil, with Naples,
+with Austria, and with Portugal, by
+which Sir Robert Peel is so zealously
+labouring to fill up the broad outlines
+of his economical policy&mdash;a policy
+which represents the restoration of
+peace to the nation, progress to industry,
+and plenty to the cottage;
+but which also otherwise is not without
+its dangers. Amidst the whirlwind
+of passions, the storm of hatred and
+envy, conjured by the evil genius of
+his predecessors in office, and most
+notably by the malignant star which
+lately ruled over the foreign destinies
+of England, the task has necessarily
+been, yet is, and will be, Herculean;
+but the force of Hercules is there also,
+as may be hoped, to wrestle with and
+overthrow the hydra&mdash;the &AElig;olus to
+recall and encage the tempestuous
+elements of strife. A host in himself,
+hosts also the premier has with him
+in his cabinet; for such singly are the
+illustrious Wellington, the Aberdeen,
+the Stanley, the Graham, the Ripon,
+and, though last, though youngest,
+scarcely least, the Gladstone.</p>
+
+<p>Great as is our admiration, deeply
+impressed as we are with a sense of
+the extraordinary qualifications, of the
+varied acquirements, of the conscientious
+convictions, and the singleness
+and rightmindedness of purpose of
+the right honourable the vice-president
+of the Board of Trade, we must
+yet presume to hesitate before we give
+an implicit adherence upon all the
+points in the confession of economical
+faith expressed and implied in an article
+attributed to him, and not without
+cause, which ushered into public
+notice the first number of a new
+quarterly periodical, &quot;The Foreign
+and Colonial Quarterly Review,&quot;
+in January last, and was generally
+accepted as a programme
+of ministerial faith and action. Our
+points of dissonance are, however, few;
+but, as involving questions of principle,
+whilst we are generally at one
+on matters of detail, we hold them to
+be of some importance. This, however,
+is not the occasion proper for
+urging them, when engaged on a special
+theme. But on a question of
+fact, which has a bearing upon the
+subject in hand, we may be allowed
+to express our decided dissent from
+the <i>dictum</i> somewhat arbitrarily
+launched, in the article referred to,
+in the following terms:&mdash;&quot;We shall
+urge that foreign countries neither
+have combined, nor ought to combine,
+nor can combine, against the commerce
+of Great Britain; and we <i>shall
+treat as a calumny the imputation that
+they are disposed to enter into such a
+combination</i>.&quot; The italics, it must be
+observed, are ours.</p>
+
+<p>We have at this moment evidence
+lying on our table sufficiently explanatory
+and decisive to our minds that
+such a spirit of combination is abroad
+against British commercial interests.
+We might indeed appeal to events
+of historical publicity, which would
+seem confirmatory of a tacitly understood
+combination, from the simultaneity
+of action apparent. We have, for
+example, France reducing the duties
+on Belgian iron, coal, linen, yarn, and
+cloths, whilst she raises those on similar
+British products; the German
+Customs' League imposing higher and
+prohibitory duties on British fabrics
+of mixed materials, such as wool, cotton,
+silk, &amp;c.; puny Portugal interdicting
+woollens by exorbitant rates of
+impost, and scarcely tolerating the
+admission of cotton manufactures;
+the United States, with sweeping action,
+passing a whole tariff of prohibitory
+imposts; and, in several of these
+instances, this war of restrictions
+against British industry commenced,
+or immediately followed upon, those
+remarkable changes and reductions in
+the tariff of this country which signalized
+the very opening of Sir Robert
+Peel's administration. Conceding,
+however, this seeming concert of action
+to be merely fortuitous, what will
+the vice-president of the Board of
+Trade say to the long-laboured, but
+still unconsummated customs' union
+between France and Belgium? Was
+that in the nature of a combination
+against British commercial interests,
+or was it the reverse? It is no cabinet
+secret&mdash;it has been publicly proclaimed,
+both by the French and Belgian
+Governments and press, that the
+indispensable basis, the <i>sine qua non</i>
+of that union, must be, not a calculated
+amalgamation of, not a compromise
+between the differing and inconsistent
+tariffs of Belgium and France, but the
+adoption, the imposition, of the tariff
+of France for both countries in all its
+integrity, saving in some exceptional
+cases of very slight importance, in deference
+to municipal dues and <i>octrois</i>
+in Belgium. When, after previous parley
+and cajoleries at Brussels, commissioners
+were at length procured to be
+appointed by the French ministry, and
+proceeded to meet and discuss the
+conditions of the long-cherished project
+of the union, with the officials
+deputed on the part of France to assist
+in the conference, it is well known
+that the final cause of rupture was the
+dogged persistance of the French members
+of the joint commission in urging
+the tariff of France, in all its nakedness
+of prohibition, deformity, and fiscal
+rigour, as the one sole and exclusive
+<i>r&eacute;gime</i> for the union debated,
+without modification or mitigation.
+On this ground alone the Belgian deputies
+withdrew from their mission.
+How this result, this check, temporary
+only as it may prove, chagrined the
+Government, if not the people, and
+the mining and manufacturing interests
+of France, may be understood by
+the simple citation of a few short but
+pithy sentences from the <i>Journal des
+D&eacute;bats</i>, certainly the most influential,
+as it is the most ably conducted, of
+Parisian journals:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;<i>Le 'ZOLLVEREIN,'</i>&quot;
+observes the <i>D&eacute;bats, &quot;a prodigieusement
+rehauss&eacute; la Prusse; l'union
+douani&egrave;re avec la Belgique aurait, &agrave; un
+degr&eacute; moindre cependant, le m&ecirc;me r&eacute;sultat
+pour nous.... Nous sommes, donc,
+les partisans de cette union, ses partisans
+prononc&eacute;s, &agrave; deux conditions: la premi&egrave;re,
+c'est qu'il ne faille pas payer ces
+beaux r&eacute;sultats par le bouleversement de
+l'industrie rationale; la seconde, c'est
+que la Belgique en accepte sinc&egrave;rement
+es charges en m&ecirc;me temps qu'elle en
+recuiellera les profits, et qu'en consequence
+elle se pr&ecirc;te &agrave; tout ce qui sera n&eacute;cessaire
+pour mettre NOTRE INDUSTRIE A L'ABRI
+DE L'INVASION DES PRODUITS ETRANGERS,
+et pour que les int&eacute;r&ecirc;ts de notre
+Tr&eacute;sor soient &agrave; couvert.</i>&quot;</p></div>
+
+<p>This is
+plain speaking; the Government journal
+of France worthily disdains to
+practise mystery or attempt deception,
+for its mission is to contend
+for the interests, one-sided, exclusive,
+and egoistical, as they may
+be, and establish the supremacy of
+France&mdash;<i>quand m&ecirc;me</i>; at whatever
+resulting prejudice to Belgium&mdash;at
+whatever total exclusion of Great
+Britain from commercial intercourse
+with, and commercial transit through
+Belgium, must inevitably flow from
+a customs' union, the absolute preliminary
+condition of which is to be,
+that Belgium &quot;shall be ready to do
+every thing necessary to place our
+commerce beyond the reach of invasion
+by foreign products.&quot; Mr Gladstone
+may rest assured that the
+achievement of this Franco-Belgiac
+customs' union will still be pursued
+with all the indomitable perseverance,
+the exhaustless and ingenious devices,
+the little-scrupulous recources, for
+which the policy of the Tuileries in
+times present does not belie the transmitted
+traditions of the past. And it
+will be achieved, to the signal detriment
+of British interests, both commercial
+and political, unless all the
+energies and watchfulness of the distinguished
+statesmen who preside at
+the Foreign Office and the Board of
+Trade be not unceasingly on the
+alert.</p>
+
+<p>Other and unmistakeable signs of the
+spirit of commercial combination, or
+confederation, abroad, and more or less
+explicitly avowed and directed against
+this country, are, and have been for
+some time past, only too patent, day by
+day, in most of those continental journals,
+the journals of confederated Germany,
+of France, with some of those
+of Spain and of Portugal, which exercise
+the largest measure of influence
+upon, and represent with most authority
+the voice of, public opinion.
+Nor are such demonstrations confined
+to journalism. <i>Collaborateurs</i>, in serial
+or monthly publications, are found
+as earnest auxiliaries in the same
+cause&mdash;as <i>redacteurs</i> and <i>redactores</i>;
+pamphleteers, like light irregulars,
+lead the skirmish in front, whilst the
+main battle is brought up with the
+heavy artillery of <i>tome</i> and works
+voluminous. Of these, as of <i>brochures,
+filletas</i>, and journals, we have
+various specimens now on our library
+table. All manner of customs, or commercial
+unions, between states are
+projected, proposed, and discussed,
+but from each and all of these proposed
+unions Great Britain is studiously
+isolated and excluded. We
+have the &quot;Austrian union&quot; planned
+out and advocated, comprising, with
+the hereditary states of that empire,
+Moldavia, Wallachia, Bulgaria, Servia,
+Bosnia, as well as those provinces
+of ancient Greece, which, like Macedonia,
+remain subject to Turkey,
+with, perhaps, the modern kingdom of
+Greece. We have the &quot;Italian
+union,&quot; to be composed of Sardinia,
+Lombardy, Lucca, Parma, and Modena,
+Tuscany, the two Sicilies, and
+the Papal States. There is the
+&quot;Peninsular union&quot; of Spain and
+Portugal. Then we have one &quot;French
+union&quot; sketched out, modestly projected
+for France, Belgium, Switzerland,
+and Savoy only. And we have
+another of more ambitious aspirations,
+which should unite Belgium, Switzerland,
+and Spain under the commercial
+standard of France. One of the
+works treating of projects of this
+kind was, we believe, crowned with a
+prize by some learned institution in
+France.</p>
+
+<p>From this slight sketch of what
+is passing abroad&mdash;and we cannot
+afford the space at present for more
+ample development&mdash;the right honourable
+Vice President of the Board
+of Trade will perhaps see cause to
+revise the opinion too positively
+enounced, that &quot;foreign countries
+neither have combined, nor ought to
+combine, nor can combine, against
+the commerce of Great Britain;&quot;
+and that it is a &quot;calumny&quot; to conceive
+that they are &quot;disposed to enter
+into such a combination.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With these preliminary remarks,
+we now proceed to the consideration
+of the commercial relations between
+Spain and Great Britain, and of the
+policy in the interest of both countries,
+but transcendently in that of Spain,
+by which those relations, now reposing
+on the narrowest basis, at least
+on the one side, on that of Spain
+herself, may be beneficially improved
+and enlarged. It may be safely asserted,
+that there are no two nations
+in the old world&mdash;nay more, no two
+nations in either, or both, the old
+world and the new&mdash;more desirably
+situated and circumstanced for an
+intimate union of industrial interests,
+for so direct and perfect an interchange
+of their respective products.
+The interchange would, indeed, under
+a wise combination of reciprocal dealing,
+resolve itself purely almost into
+the primitive system of barter; for the
+wants of Spain are such as can be
+best, sometimes only, supplied from
+England, whilst Spain is rich in products
+which ensure a large, sometimes
+an exclusive, command of British consumption.
+Spain is eminently agricultural,
+pastoral, and mining; Great
+Britain more eminently ascendant
+still in the arts and science of manufacture
+and commerce. With a diversity
+of soil and climate, in which
+almost spontaneously flourish the
+chief productions of the tropical as
+of the temperate zone; with mineral
+riches which may compete with, nay,
+which greatly surpass in their variety,
+and might, if well cultivated, in their
+value, those of the Americas which
+she has lost; with a territory vast and
+virgin in proportion to the population;
+with a sea-board extensively
+ranging along two of the great high-ways
+of nations&mdash;the Atlantic and the
+Mediterranean&mdash;and abundantly endowed
+with noble and capacious harbours;
+there is no conceivable limit
+to the boundless production and creation
+of exchangeable wealth, of which,
+with her immense natural resources,
+still so inadequately explored, Spain
+is susceptible, that can be imagined,
+save from that deficient supply of labour
+as compared with the territorial
+expanse which would gradually come
+to be redressed as industry was
+promoted, the field of employment
+extended, and labour remunerated.
+With an estimated area of 182,758
+square miles, the population of
+Spain does not exceed, probably,
+thirteen millions and a half of souls,
+whilst Great Britain and Ireland,
+with an area of 115,702 square
+miles, support a population of double
+the number. Production, however,
+squares still less with territorial
+extent than does population; for the
+stimulus to capital and industry is
+wanting when the facilities of exchanges
+are checked by fiscal prohibitions
+and restrictions. Agricultural
+produce, the growth of the vine and
+the olive, is not unfrequently known
+to run to waste, to be abandoned, as
+not worth the toil of gathering and
+preparation, because markets are
+closed and consumption checked in
+countries from which exchangeable
+commodities are prohibited. The
+extent of these prohibitions and restrictions,
+almost unparalleled even
+by the arbitrary tariff of Russia, may
+be estimated in part by the following
+extract from a pamphlet, published
+last year by Mr James Henderson,
+formerly consul-general to the Republic
+of New Granada, entitled &quot;A
+Review of the Commercial Code and
+Tariffs of Spain;&quot; a writer, by the
+way, guilty of much exaggeration of
+fact and opinion when not quoting
+from, or supported by, official documents.</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;The 'Aranceles,' or Tariffs, are four
+in number; 1st, of foreign importations;
+2d, of importations from America; 3d,
+from Asia; and, 4th, of exportations
+from Spain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Tariff of foreign importations
+contains 1326 articles alphabetically arranged:&mdash;</p></div>
+
+<table summary="" class="blkquot">
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">800</td>
+ <td>to pay a duty of</td>
+ <td align="right">15</td>
+ <td>per cent in Spanish vessels,</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">230</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ <td align="right">20</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">80</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ <td align="right">25</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">55</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ <td align="right">10</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">26</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ <td align="right">30</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">3</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ <td align="right">36</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">2</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ <td align="right">24</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">2</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ <td align="right">45</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>about 50 from 1 to 8 per cent, and the rest free of duty.</p></div>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;The preceding articles imported in
+foreign vessels are subject to an increased
+duty, at the following rates:&mdash;</p></div>
+
+<table summary="" class="blkquot">
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">1150</td>
+ <td>articles at the rate of</td>
+ <td align="right">1/8</td>
+ <td>more,</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">80</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ <td align="right">1/4</td>
+ <td>more,</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="right">10</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ <td align="right">1/2</td>
+ <td>more.</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;There is, besides, a duty of 'consumo,'
+principally at the rate of 1/8 of the
+respective duties, and in some very few
+cases at the rate of 1/4 and 1/2.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thus the duty of 15 per cent levied,
+if the importation is by a Spanish vessel,
+will be increased by the 'consumo' to
+20 per cent. And the duty of 20 per cent
+on the same articles, in foreign vessels,
+will be augmented to 27 per cent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The duty of 20 per cent will be about
+27 in Spanish vessels, and in foreign
+vessels, on the same articles, 36 per cent.
+The duty of 25 per cent, will in the whole
+be 33 per cent by Spanish, and by foreign
+vessels 44 per cent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The duty on articles, amounting to
+seventy-three, imported from America,
+vary from 1 to 15 per cent, with double
+the duty if in foreign vessels.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The articles of importation from Asia
+are&mdash;sixty-nine from the Phillipines at 1 to
+5 per cent duty, and thirty-six from China
+at 5 to 25 per cent duty, and can only be
+imported in Spanish ships.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The articles of export are fourteen,
+with duties at 1 to 80 per cent, with one-third
+increase if by foreign vessels.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There are eighty-six articles of importation
+prohibited, amongst which are
+wrought iron, tobacco, spirits, quicksilver,
+ready-made clothing, corn, salt, hats, soap,
+wax, wools, leather, vessels under 400
+tons, &amp;c. &amp;c. &amp;c.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There are eleven articles of exportation
+prohibited, amongst which are hides,
+skins, and timber for naval purposes.&quot;</p></div>
+
+<p>Such a tariff contrasts strangely
+with that of this country, in which 10
+per cent is the basis of duty adopted
+for importations of foreign manufactures,
+and 5 per cent for foreign raw
+products.</p>
+
+<p>Can we wonder that, with such a
+tariff, legitimate imports are of so
+small account, and that the smuggler
+intervenes to redress the enormously
+disproportionate balance, and administer
+to the wants of the community?
+Can we wonder that the powers of
+native production should be so bound
+down, and territorial revenue so comparatively
+diminutive, when exchanges
+are so hampered by fiscal and protective
+rapacity? Canga Arguelles, the
+first Spanish financier and statistician
+of his day, calculated the territorial
+revenue of Spain at 8,572,220,592
+reals, say, in sterling, L.85,722,200;
+whilst he asserts, with better cultivation,
+population the same, the soil
+is capable of returning ten times the
+value. As a considerable proportion
+of the revenue of Spain is derived
+from the taxation of land, the prejudice
+resulting to the treasury is alone
+a subject of most important consideration.
+For the proprietary, and, in
+the national point of view, as affecting
+the well-being of the masses, it is of
+far deeper import still. And what is
+the financial condition of Spain, that
+her vast resources should be apparently
+so idle, sported with, or cramped?
+Take the estimates, the budget, presented
+by the minister <i>De ca Hacienda</i>,
+for the past year of 1842:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" class="blkquot">
+<tr><td>Revenue 1842,</td><td align="right">879,193,400</td><td>reals</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Id. expenditure,</td><td align="right">1,541,639,800</td><td align="center">id.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Deficit on the year,</td><td align="right">662,446,400</td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>Thus, with a revenue of L.8,791,934,
+an expenditure of L.15,416,398, and
+a deficit of L.6,624,460, the debt
+of Spain, foreign and domestic, is
+almost an unfathomable mystery as to
+its real amount. Even at this present
+moment, it cannot be said to be determined;
+for that amount varies with
+every successive minister who ventures
+to approach the question. Multifarious
+have been the attempts to arrive
+at a clear liquidation&mdash;that is, classification
+and ascertainment of claims;
+but hitherto with no better success
+than to find the sum swelling under
+the labour, notwithstanding national
+and church properties confiscated,
+appropriated, and exchanged away
+against <i>titulos</i> of debt by millions. It
+is variously estimated at from 120 to
+200 millions sterling, but say 150
+millions, under the different heads of
+debt active, passive, and deferred;
+debt bearing interest, debt without interest,
+and debt exchangeable in part&mdash;that
+is, payable in certain fixed proportions,
+for the purchase of national
+and church properties. For a partial
+approximation to relative quantities,
+we must refer the reader, for want of
+better authority, to Fenn's &quot;Compendium
+of the English and Foreign Funds&quot;&mdash;a
+work containing much valuable
+information, although not altogether
+drawn from the best sources.</p>
+
+<p>In the revenues of Spain, the customs
+enter for about 70,000,000 of
+reals, say L.700,000 only, including
+duties on exports as well as imports.
+Now, assuming the contraband imports
+to amount only to the value of
+L.6,000,000, a moderate estimate,
+seeing that some writers, Mr Henderson
+among the number, rashly calculate
+the contraband imports alone at
+eight, and even as high as ten, millions
+sterling, it should follow that, at
+an average rate of duty of twenty per
+cent, the customs should yield additionally
+L.1,200,000, or nearly double
+the amount now received under
+that head. As, through the cessation
+of the civil war, a considerable portion
+of the war expenditure will be,
+and is being reduced, the additional
+L.1,200,000 gained, by an equitable
+adjustment of the tariff, on imports
+alone, perhaps we should be justified
+in saying one million and a half, or
+not far short of two millions sterling,
+import and export duties combined,
+would go far to remedy the
+desperation of Spanish financial
+embarrassments&mdash;the perfect solution
+and clearance of which, however,
+must be, under the most favourable
+circumstances, an affair of many years.
+It is not readily or speedily that the
+prodigalities of Toreno, or the unscrupulous,
+but more patriotic financial
+impostures of Mendizabal, can be retrieved,
+and the national faith redeemed.
+The case is, to appearance,
+one past relief; but, with honest and
+incorruptible ministers of finance like
+Ramon Calatrava, hope still lingers in
+the long perspective. With an enlightened
+commercial policy on the
+one hand, with the retrenchment of a
+war expenditure on the other, the
+balance between receipts and expenditure
+may come to be struck, an excess
+of revenue perhaps created; whilst the
+sales of national domains against <i>titulos</i>
+of debt, if managed with integrity,
+should make way towards its gradual
+diminution.</p>
+
+<p>As there is much misapprehension,
+and many exaggerations, afloat respecting
+the special participation of
+Great Britain in the contraband trade
+of Spain, its extraordinary amount,
+and the interest assumed therefrom
+which would result exclusively from,
+and therefore induces the urgency for,
+an equitable reform of the tariff of
+Spain, we shall briefly take occasion to
+show the real extent of the British share
+in that illicit trade, so far as under the
+principal heads charged; and having
+exhibited that part of the case in its
+true, or approximately true, light, we
+shall also prove that it is, as it should
+be, the primary interest of this country
+to regain its due proportion in the
+regular trade with Spain, and which
+can only be regained by legitimate
+intercourse, founded on a reciprocal,
+and therefore identical, combination of
+interests. In this strife of facts we
+shall have to contend against Se&ntilde;or
+Marliani, and others of the best and
+most steadfast advocates of a more
+enlightened policy, of sympathies entirely
+and patriotically favourable towards
+a policy which shall cement
+and interweave indissolubly the material
+interests and prosperity of Spain
+and Great Britain&mdash;of two realms
+which possess each those products and
+peculiar advantages in which the other
+is wanting, and therefore stand seized
+of the special elements required for
+the successful progress of each other.
+Our contest will, however, be one of
+friendly character, our differences will
+be of facts, but not of principles.
+But we hold it to be of importance to
+re-establish facts, as far as possible, in
+all their correctness; or rather, to reclaim
+them from the domain of vague
+conjecture and speculation in which
+they have been involved and lost sight
+of. The task will not be without its difficulties;
+for the position and precise data
+are wanting on which to found, with
+even a reasonable approximation to mathematical
+accuracy, a comprehensive
+estimate, to resolve into shape the various
+and complex elements of Spanish
+industry and commerce, legitimate and
+contraband. Statistical science&mdash;for
+which Spain achieved an honourable
+renown in the last century, and may
+cite with pride her Varela, Musquiz,
+Gabarrus, Ulloa, Jovellanos, &amp;c., was
+little cultivated or encouraged in that
+decay of the Spanish monarchy which
+commenced with the reign of the idiotic
+Carlos IV., and his venal minister
+Godoy, and in the wars and revolutions
+which followed the accession,
+and ended not with the death of
+Fernando his son, the late monarch&mdash;was
+almost lost sight of; though Canga
+Arguelles, lately deceased only, might
+compete with the most erudite economist,
+here or elsewhere, of his day.
+Therefore it is, that few are the statistical
+documents or returns existing
+in Spain which throw any clear light
+upon the progress of industry, or the
+extent and details of her foreign commerce.
+Latterly, indeed, the Government
+has manifested a commendable
+solicitude to repair this unfortunate
+defect of administrative detail,
+and has commenced with the periodical
+collection and verification of returns
+and information from the various
+ports, which may serve as the basis&mdash;and
+indispensable for that end they
+must be&mdash;on which to reform the errors
+of the present, or raise the superstructure
+of a new, fiscal and commercial
+system. Notwithstanding, however,
+the difficulties we are thus exposed
+to from the lack or incompleteness
+of official data on the side of
+Spain, we hope to present a body of
+useful information illustrative of her
+commerce, industry, and policy; in
+especial, we hope to dispel certain
+grave misconceptions, to redress signal
+exaggeration about the extent of the
+contraband trade, rankly as it flourishes,
+carried on along the coasts, and more
+largely still, perhaps, by the land
+frontiers of that country, at least so
+far as British participation. Various
+have been the attempts to establish
+correct conclusions, to arrive at some
+fixed notions of the precise quantities
+of that illicit traffic; but hitherto the
+results generally have been far from
+successful, except in one instance. In
+a series of articles on the commerce of
+Spain, published under the head of
+&quot;Money Market and City Intelligence,&quot;
+in the months of December
+and January last, the <i>Morning Herald</i>
+was the first to observe and to
+apply the data in existence by which
+such an enquiry could be carried out,
+and which we purpose here to follow
+out on a larger scale, and with materials
+probably more abundant and of
+more recent date.</p>
+
+<p>The whole subject of Spanish commerce
+is one of peculiar interest, and,
+through the more rigorous regulations
+recently adopted against smuggling, is
+at this moment exciting marked attention
+in France, which, it will be
+found with some surprise, is far the
+largest smuggler of prohibited commodities
+into Spain, although the smallest
+consumer of Spanish products in
+return. It is in no trifling degree
+owing to the jealous and exclusive
+views which unhappily prevail with
+our nearest neighbour across the Channel,
+that the prohibitory tariff, scarcely
+more adverse to commercial intercourse
+than that of France after all,
+which robs the revenue of Spain,
+whilst it covers the country with hosts
+of smugglers, has not sooner been revised
+and reformed. France is not
+willing to enter into a confederacy of
+interests with Spain herself, nor to
+permit other nations, on any fair equality
+of conditions, and with the abandonment
+of those unjust pretensions to
+special privileges in her own behalf,
+which, still tenaciously clinging to Bourbonic
+traditions of by-gone times, would
+affect to annihilate the Pyrenees, and
+regard Spain as a dependent possession,
+reserved for the exclusive profit and
+the commercial and political aggrandisement
+of France. That these exaggerated
+pretensions are still entertained
+as an article of national faith,
+from the sovereign on his throne to
+the meanest of his subjects, we have
+before us, at this moment of writing,
+conclusive evidence in the report of
+M. Ch&eacute;garay, read in the Chamber of
+Deputies on the 11th of April last,
+(<i>vide Moniteur</i> of the 12th,) drawn up
+by a commission, to whom was referred
+the consideration of the actual
+commercial relations of France with
+Spain&mdash;provoked by various petitions
+of the merchants of Bayonne, and
+other places, complaining of the prejudice
+resulting to their commerce and
+shipping from certain alterations in
+the Spanish customs' laws, decreed by
+the Regent in 1841. We may have
+occasion hereafter to make further reference
+to this report.</p>
+
+<p>The population of Spain may be
+rated in round numbers at thirteen
+millions and a half, whilst that of the
+United Kingdom may be taken at
+about double the number. With a
+wise policy, therefore, the interchange
+should be of an active and most extensive
+nature betwixt two countries,
+reckoning together more than forty
+millions of inhabitants, one of which,
+with a superficial breadth of territory
+out of all proportion with a comparatively
+thinly-scattered community,
+abounding with raw products and natural
+riches of almost spontaneous
+growth; whilst the other, as densely
+peopled, on the contrary, in comparison
+with its territorial limits, is
+stored with all the elements, and surpasses
+in all the arts and productions
+of manufacturing industry. Unlike
+France, Great Britain does not rival
+Spain in wines, oils, fruits, and
+other indigenous products of southern
+skies, and therefore is the more free
+to act upon the equitable principle of
+fair exchange in values for values.
+Great Britain has a market among
+twenty-seven millions of an active and
+intelligent people, abounding in wealth
+and advanced in the tastes of luxurious
+living, to offer against one presenting
+little more than half the range
+of possible customers. She has more;
+she has the markets of the millions of
+her West Indies and Americas&mdash;of
+the tens of millions of British India,
+amongst whom a desire for the
+various fruits and delicious wines
+of Spain might gradually become diffused
+for a thousand of varieties of
+wines which, through the pressure of
+restrictive duties, are little if at all
+known to European consumption beyond
+the boundaries of Spain herself.
+With such vast fields of commercial
+intercourse open on the one side and
+the other, with the bands of mutual
+material interests combining so happily
+to bind two nations together which
+can have no political causes of distrust
+and estrangement, it is really
+marvellous that the direct relations
+should be of so small account, and so
+hampered by jealous adherence to the
+strict letter of an absurd legislation,
+as in consequence to be diverted from
+their natural course into other and
+objectionable channels&mdash;as the waters
+of the river artificially dammed up
+will overflow its banks, and, regaining
+their level, speed on by other pathways
+to the ocean. We shall briefly
+exemplify the force of these truths by
+the citation of official figures representing
+the actual state of the trade
+between Spain and the United Kingdom
+antecedent to and concluding
+with the year 1840, which is the last
+year for which in detail the returns
+have yet issued from the Board of
+Trade. That term, however, would
+otherwise be preferentially selected,
+because affording facilities for comparison
+with similar but partial returns
+only of foreign commerce made
+up in Spain to the same period, little
+known in this country, and with the
+French customhouse returns of the
+trade of France with Spain. It must
+be premised that the tables of the
+Board of Trade in respect of import
+trade, as well as of foreign
+and colonial re-exports, state quantities
+only, but not values; nor do they
+present any criteria by which values
+approximately might be determined.
+Where, therefore, such values are attempted
+to be arrived at, it will be
+understood that the calculations are
+our own, and pretend no more&mdash;for no
+more could be achieved&mdash;than a rough
+estimate of probable approximation.</p>
+
+<p>Total declared value of British and Irish produce and manufactures exported
+to Spain and the Balearic Isles in&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+<tr><td>1840,</td><td> amounted to &nbsp; </td><td>L.404,252</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1835,</td><td align="center">...</td><td align="right">405,065</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1831,</td><td align="center">...</td><td align="right">597,848</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>From the first to the last year of the
+decennial term, the regular trade,
+therefore, had declined to the extent of
+above L.193,000, or at the rate of about
+33 per cent. But as for three of the
+intermediate years 1837, 1838, and
+1839, the exports are returned at
+L.286,636, L.243,839, and L.262,231,
+exclusive of fluctuations downwards
+in previous years, it will be more satisfactory
+to take the averages for five
+years each, of the term. Thus from&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+<tr><td>1831 to 1835,</td><td> both inclusive, the average was</td><td align="right"> &nbsp; L.442,916</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1836 to 1840,</td><td align="center">...</td><td align="right">320,007</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>The average decline in the latter
+term, was therefore above 27&frac12; per
+cent.</p>
+
+<p>Of the Foreign and Colonial merchandise
+re-exported within the
+same period it is difficult to say what
+proportion was for British account,
+and, as such, should therefore be
+classed under the head of trade with
+Spain. It may be assumed, however,
+that the following were the products
+of British colonial possessions, whose
+exports to Spain are thus stated in
+quantities:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;1831.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;1835.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;1840.&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Cinnamon,</td>
+ <td align="right">284,201</td>
+ <td align="right">123,590</td>
+ <td align="right">144,291</td>
+ <td>lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Cloves,</td>
+ <td align="right">15,831</td>
+ <td align="right">9,470</td>
+ <td align="right">23,504</td>
+ <td>...</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>India Cottons,</td>
+ <td align="right">38,969</td>
+ <td align="right">3,267</td>
+ <td align="right">10,067</td>
+ <td>pieces</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>India Bandannas,</td>
+ <td align="right">17,386</td>
+ <td align="right">11,864</td>
+ <td align="right">16,049</td>
+ <td>...</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Indigo,</td>
+ <td align="right">16,641</td>
+ <td align="right">5,231</td>
+ <td align="right">8,623</td>
+ <td>lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Pepper,</td>
+ <td align="right">227,305</td>
+ <td align="right">69,365</td>
+ <td align="right">194,254</td>
+ <td>...</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td></td>
+ <td align="right"></td>
+ <td align="right"></td>
+ <td align="right"></td>
+ <td></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>To which may be added&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Tobacco,</td>
+ <td align="right">64,851</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;2,252,356</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;1,729,552</td>
+ <td>...</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>The tobacco, being of United States'
+growth, may, to a considerable extent,
+be bonded here for re-exportation on
+foreign account merely. The foregoing,
+though the heaviest, are not
+the whole of the foreign and colonial
+products re-exported for Spain, but
+they constitute the great bulk of value.
+Taking those of the last year, their
+value may be approximatively
+estimated in round numbers, as calculated
+upon what may be assumed a
+fair average of the rates of the prices
+current in the market, as they appear
+quoted in the London <i>Mercantile Journal</i>
+of the 4th of April. It is only
+necessary to take the more weighty
+articles.</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>Cinnamon,</td>
+ <td align="right">144,290</td>
+ <td align="center">lbs.</td>
+ <td>at</td>
+ <td align="right">5s.</td>
+ <td>6d.</td>
+ <td>L.39,679</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Indigo,</td>
+ <td align="right">8,620</td>
+ <td align="center">&mdash;</td>
+ <td>at</td>
+ <td align="right">6s.</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">2,586</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Pepper,</td>
+ <td align="right">194,250</td>
+ <td align="center">&mdash;</td>
+ <td>at</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>4d.</td>
+ <td align="right">3,232</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Tobacco,</td>
+ <td align="right">1,729,550</td>
+ <td align="center">&mdash;</td>
+ <td>at</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>4d.</td>
+ <td align="right">28,825</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Indian Bandannas,</td>
+ <td align="right">16,049</td>
+ <td align="center">pieces</td>
+ <td>at</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;25s.</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">20,061</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>It may, we conceive, be assumed
+from these citations of some few of the
+larger values exported to Spain under
+the head of &quot;Foreign and Colonial
+Merchandise,&quot; that the total amount
+of such values, inclusive of all the commodities
+non-enumerated here, would
+not exceed L.150,000, which, added
+to the L.404,252 already stated as the
+&quot;declared values&quot; of &quot;British and Irish
+produce&quot; also exported, would give a
+total export for 1840 of L.554,250.</p>
+
+<p>We come now to the imports from Spain and the Balearic Isles, direct
+also into the United Kingdom, as stated in the Board of Trade tables in quantities;
+selecting the chief articles only, however:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">&nbsp;&nbsp;1831.</td>
+ <td align="center">&nbsp;&nbsp;1835.</td>
+ <td align="center">&nbsp;&nbsp;1840.</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Barilla,</td>
+ <td align="right">61,921</td>
+ <td align="right">64,175</td>
+ <td align="right">36,585</td>
+ <td>cwts.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Lemons and Oranges,</td>
+ <td align="right">28,266</td>
+ <td align="right">30,548</td>
+ <td align="right">30,171</td>
+ <td>packages.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Madder,</td>
+ <td align="right">1,569</td>
+ <td align="right">3,418</td>
+ <td align="right">6,174</td>
+ <td>cwts.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Olive Oil,</td>
+ <td align="right">1,243,686</td>
+ <td align="right">1,793</td>
+ <td align="right">1,305,384</td>
+ <td>galls.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Quicksilver,</td>
+ <td align="right">269,558</td>
+ <td align="right">1,438,869</td>
+ <td align="right">2,157,823</td>
+ <td>lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Raisins,</td>
+ <td align="right">105,066</td>
+ <td align="right">104,334</td>
+ <td align="right">166,505</td>
+ <td>cwts.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Brandy,</td>
+ <td align="right">69,319</td>
+ <td align="right">15,880</td>
+ <td align="right">223,268</td>
+ <td>galls.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Wines,</td>
+ <td align="right">2,537,968</td>
+ <td align="right">2,641,547</td>
+ <td align="right">3,945,161</td>
+ <td>galls.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Wool,</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp; 3,474,823</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp; 1,602,752</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp; 1,266,905</td>
+ <td>lbs.</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>Applying the same plan of calculation upon an average of the prices ruling
+in the London market, we arrive at the following approximate results:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>Barilla, 36,585 cwts. at 10s. per cwt.</td>
+ <td align="right">L.18,292</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Lemons and oranges, 30,170 packages, at 30s. per packet,</td>
+ <td align="right">45,255</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Madder, 6174 cwts. at 30s per cwt.</td>
+ <td align="right">9,261</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Olive oil, 1,305,384 gallons, at L.45 per 252 gallons</td>
+ <td align="right">233,100</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Quicksilver, 2,157,823 lbs., at 4s. per lb.,</td>
+ <td align="right">431,564</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Raisins, 166,505 cwts., at 40s. per cwt.</td>
+ <td align="right">333,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Brandy, 223,268 gallons, at 2s. 6d. per gallon,</td>
+ <td align="right">27,900</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Wines, 3,945,160, gallons, at L.20 per butt,</td>
+ <td align="right">730,580</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Wool, 1,266,900 lbs., at 2s. per lb.,</td>
+ <td align="right">126,690</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;L.1,965,642</td>
+ </tr>
+
+ <tr>
+ <td>The value of the other articles of import from Spain,
+which need not be enumerated here, amongst which
+corn, skins, pig-lead, bark for tanning, &amp;c., would
+certainly swell this amount more by</td><td align="right">200,000.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Total direct imports from Spain,</td>
+ <td>L.2,165,642</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>On several of the foregoing commodities
+the average rates of price on which
+they are calculated may be esteemed
+as moderate, such as wines, brandies,
+raisins, &amp;c.; and several are exclusive
+of duty charge, as where the averages
+are estimated at the prices in bond.
+In other commodities the average rates
+are inclusive of duty. Wines, brandies,
+quicksilver, barilla, are exclusive
+of duty, for example; the others, duty
+paid, but in some instances duties
+scarcely more than nominal. On the
+other hand, it must be taken into the
+account, for the purpose of a fair comparison,
+that these average estimates of
+the prices of imported merchandise
+do include and are enhanced by the
+expense of freights and the profits of
+the importer, and therefore all the
+difference must be in excess of the cost
+price at which shipped, and by which
+estimated in Spain. The &quot;declared
+values&quot; of British exports to Spain
+embrace but a small proportion, perhaps,
+of these shipping charges, and
+are altogether irrespective of duties
+levied on arrival in Spanish ports. As
+not only a fair, but probably an outside
+allowance, let us, therefore, redress
+the balance by striking off 20
+per cent from the total estimated values
+of imports from Spain to cover
+shipping charges, profits, and port-dues,
+whether included in prices or not. The
+account will then stand thus:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+<tr><td>Estimated imports from Spain in round numbers</td><td align="right">L.2,165,000</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Deduct 20 per cent,</td><td align="right">433,000</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Value of imports shipped,</td><td align="right">L.1,732,000</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Deduct declared value of British exports to Spain,</td><td align="right">554,000</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Excess of Spanish imports direct on equalized estimates of values,</td>
+<td align="right">&nbsp;L.1,178,000</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>The acceptation is so common, it
+has been so long received as a truism
+unquestionable as unquestioned, as
+well in Spain as in Great Britain, of
+British commerce being one-sided,
+and carrying a large yearly balance
+against the Peninsular state, that these
+figures of relative and approximate
+quantities can hardly fail to excite
+a degree of astonishment and of
+doubt also. It will be, as it ought
+to be, observed at once, that the trade
+with Spain direct represents one part
+of the question only; that the indirect
+trade through Gibraltar, and elsewhere,
+might, in its results, reverse
+the picture. The objection is reasonable,
+and we proceed to enquire how far
+it is calculated to affect the statement.</p>
+
+<p>The total &quot;declared value&quot; of the
+exports of British and Irish produce,
+and manufactures to Gibraltar, for the
+year 1840, is stated at</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&pound;1,111,176</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Of which, as more or less destined
+for Spain, licitly or illicitly,
+cotton manufactures,</td>
+ <td align="right">635,821</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Linens, &amp;c., &amp;c.,</td>
+ <td align="right">224,061</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Woollens,</td>
+ <td align="right">97,092</td
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>It may be asserted as a fact, for,
+although not on official authority, yet
+we have it from respectable parties
+who have been resident on, and well
+conversant with the commerce of that
+rock, that, of the cotton goods thus
+imported into Gibraltar, the exports
+to Ceuta and the opposite coast of
+Africa amount, on the average, to
+L.70,000 per annum. Of linens and
+woollens a considerable proportion
+find their way there also, and to
+Italian ports. Of British and colonial
+merchandise exported to Gibraltar in
+the same year, the following may be
+considered to be mainly, or to some
+extent, designed for introduction into
+Spain:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>Cinnamon value, 77,352 lbs., say value</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp; L.21,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Indigo 26,000 lbs., say</td>
+ <td align="right">7,800</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Tobacco 610,000 lbs., say</td>
+ <td align="right">10,166</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>Some cotton piece-goods from India,
+and silk goods, such as bandannas,
+&amp;c., pepper, cloves, &amp;c., &amp;c.,
+were also exported there; say, inclusive
+of the quantities enumerated above,
+to the total value of L.100,000 of commodities,
+of which a considerable proportion
+was destined for Spain. Assuming
+the whole of the cotton goods
+to be for introduction into Spain,
+minus the quantity dispatched to the
+African coast, we have in round numbers
+the value of</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.565,800</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Say of linens one-third,</td>
+ <td align="right">74,660</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Of woollens, ib.,</td>
+ <td align="right">32,360</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Of cinnamon, India goods, and other articles, in value<br> L.90,000, minus tobacco, one-half,</td>
+ <td align="right">45,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.717,820</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Tobacco, the whole,</td>
+ <td align="right">10,166</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td> &nbsp; &nbsp; Total indirect exports</td>
+ <td align="right">727,986</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td> &nbsp; &nbsp; To which add direct</td>
+ <td align="right">554,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.1,281,986</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>Again, however, various products of
+Spain are also imported into the United
+Kingdom <i>via</i> Gibraltar, such as&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>Bark for tanning or dyeing, 5,724 tons, say value,</td>
+ <td align="right"> &nbsp; L.51,500</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Wool, 292,730 lbs. ib.,</td>
+ <td align="right">29,270</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>It may be fairly assumed, therefore,
+that to the extent of L.100,000
+of Spanish products, consisting, besides
+the foregoing, of wines, skins,
+pig-lead, &amp;c., &amp;c., is brought here
+through Gibraltar, which, added to
+the amount of the imports from Spain
+direct, will sum up the account thus:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>Imports from Spain direct,</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.1,732,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td><i>Via</i> Gibraltar,</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">100,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Total,</td>
+ <td align="right">L.1,832,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Exports to Spain direct,</td>
+ <td align="right">L.554,000</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td><i>Via</i> Gibraltar,</td>
+ <td align="right">727,900</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.1,281,900</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Excess in favour of Spain,<br> and against England,</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.550,100</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p>&mdash;A sum nearly equal to the amount
+of the exports to Spain direct. As
+we remarked before, these figures and
+valuations, which are sufficiently approximative
+of accuracy for any useful
+purpose, will take public men and
+economists, both here and in Spain,
+by surprise. Amongst other of the
+more distinguished men of the Peninsula,
+Se&ntilde;or Marliani, enlightened
+statesman, and well studied in the
+facts of detail and the philosophy of
+commercial legislation as he undoubtedly
+is, does not appear to have exactly
+suspected the existence of evidence
+leading to such results.</p>
+
+<p>From the incompleteness of the
+Spanish returns of foreign trade, it is
+unfortunately not possible to test the
+complete accuracy of those given here
+by collation. The returns before us,
+and they are the only ones yet undertaken
+in Spain, and in order, embrace
+in detail nine only of the principal
+ports:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>For Cadiz, Malaga, Carthagena, St Sebastian, Bilboa, Santander,
+Gijon, Corunna, and the Balearic Isles, the total imports and exports
+united are stated to have amounted, in 1840, to about</td>
+ <td align="right">L.6,147,280</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Employing 5782 vessels of the aggregate tonnage of 584,287</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Of the foreign trade of other ports and provinces no returns are made
+out. All known of the important seaport of Barcelona was, that its
+foreign trade in the same year occupied 1,645 vessels of 173,790
+tonnage. The special aggregate exports from the nine ports cited to
+the United Kingdom&mdash;the separate commodities composing which, as
+of imports, are given with exactness of detail&mdash;are stated for 1840
+in value at</td>
+ <td>L.1,476,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>To which add, of raisins alone, from Valencia, about 184,000 cwts,
+(other exports not given,) value</td>
+ <td align="right">185,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Exports from Almeria,</td>
+ <td align="right">13,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;L.1,674,000</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>Although these are the principal
+ports of Spain, yet they are not the
+only ports open to foreign trade, although,
+comparatively, the proportion
+of foreign traffic shared by the others
+would be much less considerable. It
+is remarkable, under the circumstances,
+how closely these Spanish returns
+of exports to Great Britain approach
+to our own valuations of the total imports
+from Spain direct, as calculated
+from market prices upon the quantities
+alone rendered in the tables of
+the Board of Trade.</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>Our valuation of the direct imports from Spain being</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;L.1,732,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>The Spanish valuation,</td>
+ <td align="right">1,674,000</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>The public writers and statesmen
+of Spain have long held, and still
+maintain the opinion, that the illicit
+introduction into that country of British
+manufactures whose legal import
+is prohibited, or greatly restricted by
+heavy duties, is carried on upon a
+much more extensive scale than what
+is, or can be, the case. In respect of
+cotton goods, the fact is particularly
+insisted upon. It may be confidently
+asserted, for it is susceptible of proof,
+that much exaggeration is abroad on
+the subject. We shall bring some
+evidence upon the point. There can
+be no question that, so far as British
+agency is directly concerned, or British
+interest involved, in the contraband
+introduction of cottons, or other
+manufactures, or tobacco, it is almost
+exclusively represented by the trade
+with Gibraltar. We are satisfied,
+moreover, that the Spanish consumption
+of cotton goods is overrated, as
+well as the amount of the clandestine
+traffic. Se&ntilde;or Marliani an authority
+generally worthy of great respect,
+errs on this head with many others of
+his countrymen. In a late work, entitled
+<i>De la Influencia del Sistema prohibitiva
+en la Agricultura, Commercio, y rentas
+Publicas</i>, he comes to the following
+calculation:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>Imported direct to Spain,</td>
+ <td align="right">L.34,687</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>To Gibraltar,</td>
+ <td align="right">608,581</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>To Portugal, &pound;731,673, of which three-fourths find their way to Spain,</td>
+ <td align="right">540,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Total,</td>
+ <td align="right">L.1,183,268</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>Again, Great Britain imports annually
+into Italy to the amount of
+&pound;2,005,785 in cotton goods, &pound;500,000
+worth of which, it is not too much to
+assume, go into Spain through the ports
+of Leghorn and Genoa. Adding together,
+then, these several items of
+cotton goods introduced from France
+and England into Spain by contraband,
+we arrive at the following startling
+result:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;FRANCE.</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Cotton goods imported into Spain, according to the Government returns,</td>
+ <td align="right">L.1,331,608</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;ENGLAND.</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Cotton goods through Spanish ports,</td>
+ <td align="right">34,637</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Through Gibraltar,</td>
+ <td align="right">608,581</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Through Portugal,</td>
+ <td align="right">540,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Through Leghorn, Genoa, &amp;c. &amp;c.</td>
+ <td align="right">500,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Total,</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;L.3,014,826</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>An extravagant writer, of the name
+of Pebrer, carried the estimate up to
+&pound;5,850,000. Se&ntilde;or Inclan, more
+moderate, still valued the import and
+consumption at &pound;2,720,000. A &quot;Cadiz
+merchant,&quot; with another anonymous
+writer of practical authority, calculated
+the amount, with more sagacity,
+at &pound;2,000,000 and &pound;2,110,000
+respectively. Se&ntilde;or Marliani is,
+moreover, of opinion&mdash;considering the
+weight of tobacco, from six to eight
+millions of pounds, assumed to be
+imported into Gibraltar for illicit
+entrance into Spain, on the authority
+of Mr Porter, but the words
+and work not expressly quoted; the
+tobacco, dressed skins, corn, flour,
+&amp;c. from France, with the illegal import
+of cottons&mdash;that the whole contraband
+trade carried on in Spain cannot
+amount to less than the enormous
+mass of one thousand millions of reals,
+or say <i>ten millions</i> sterling a-year.
+Conceding to the full the millions of
+pounds of tobacco here registered as
+smuggled from Gibraltar, of which,
+notwithstanding, we cannot stumble
+upon the official trace for half the
+quantity, we must, after due reflection,
+withhold our assent wholly to
+this very wide, if not wild, assumption
+of our Spanish friend. We are inclined,
+on no slight grounds, to come
+to the conclusion, that the amount of
+contraband trade really carried on is
+here surcharged by not far short of
+one-half; that it cannot in any case
+exceed six millions sterling&mdash;certainly
+still a bulk of illegitimate values sufficiently
+monstrous, and almost incredible.
+We shall proceed to deal conclusively,
+however, with that special
+branch of the traffic for which the
+materials are most accessible and irrecusable,
+and the verification of truth
+therefore scarcely left to the chances
+of speculation.</p>
+
+<p>First, for the rectification for exact,
+or official, quantities and values, we
+give the returns of the total exports
+of cotton manufactures, taken from
+the tables of the Board of Trade:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>1840.</td>
+ <td>Cotton manufactures,</td>
+ <td>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.17,567,310</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Yarns,</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">7,101,308</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>And for 1840 here are the exports to the countries specified:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">Declared Value.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>1840.</td>
+ <td>Cottons to Portugal,</td>
+ <td align="center">yards</td>
+ <td align="right">37,002,209</td>
+ <td align="right">L.681,787</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Hosiery, lace, small wares,</td>
+ <td align="center">&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">&mdash;</td>
+ <td align="right">20,403</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Yarn,</td>
+ <td align="center">lbs.</td>
+ <td align="right">175,545</td>
+ <td align="right">2,796</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="center">Id.</td>
+ <td>Cottons to Spain,</td>
+ <td align="center">yards</td>
+ <td align="right">355,040</td>
+ <td align="right">7,987</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Hosiery, &amp;c.</td>
+ <td align="center">&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">&mdash;</td>
+ <td align="right">2,819</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Yarn,</td>
+ <td align="center">lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">&mdash;</td>
+ <td align="right">345</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="center">Id.</td>
+ <td>Cottons to Gibraltar,</td>
+ <td align="center">yards</td>
+ <td align="right">27,609,345</td>
+ <td align="right">610,456</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Hosiery, &amp;c.</td>
+ <td align="center">&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">&mdash;</td>
+ <td align="right">21,996</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Yarn,</td>
+ <td align="center">lbs.</td>
+ <td align="center">&mdash;</td>
+ <td align="right">3,369</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="center">Id.</td>
+ <td>Cottons to Italy and Italian Islands,</td>
+ <td align="center">yds.</td>
+ <td align="right">58,866,278</td>
+ <td align="right">1,119,135</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Hosiery, &amp;c.</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">&mdash;</td>
+ <td align="right">41,197</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Yarn,</td>
+ <td align="center">lbs.</td>
+ <td align="right">11,490,034</td>
+ <td align="right">510,040</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Total,</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.3,022,430</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>The discrepancies between some of the figures in these returns and those
+cited by Se&ntilde;or Marliani, arise probably from their respective reference to different
+years; they are, however, unimportant. We have already shown, that,
+deducting the re-exports of cottons to Ceuta and the coast of Africa opposite
+to Gibraltar, the value of those destined for Spain, by way of the Rock; in
+1840, could not exceed</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center" class="blkquot">
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.565,800</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>We shall assume that <i>one-fourth</i> only of the cottons exported
+to Portugal find their way fraudulently into Spain&mdash;say</td>
+ <td align="right">176,290</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Say re-exports of cottons from Genoa to Gibraltar, assumed to
+be for Spain, as per official return of that port for 1839,</td>
+ <td align="right">31,400</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Cotton goods direct to Spain from the United Kingdom,</td>
+ <td align="right">11,150</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Total value of British cottons which could find their way into
+Spain, direct and indirect, in 1840,</td>
+ <td align="right">L.784,640</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Instead of the amount exaggerated of Se&ntilde;or Marliani,</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;L.1,663,268</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Or the large excess in estimation, of</td>
+ <td align="right">898,628</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>We have the official returns of the
+whole imports of cotton manufactures,
+with the exports, of the Sardinian
+States for 1840, now lying before us.</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>The imports were to the value of only</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;&nbsp;L.443,360</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Of which from the United Kingdom</td>
+ <td align="right">242,680</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Exported, or re-exported,</td>
+ <td align="right">458,680</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>The <i>whole</i> of which to Tuscany, the
+Two Sicilies, the Roman States, Parma
+and Placentia, the Isle of Sardinia,
+and Austria. It will be observed that
+there had been a great falling off in
+the trade with the Sardinian States in
+1840, as compared with 1838 and
+1839; and here, for greater convenience,
+we make free to extract the
+following remarks and returns from
+our esteemed contemporary of the
+<i>Morning Herald</i>, with some slight
+corrections of our own, when appropriately
+correcting certain misrepresentations
+of Mr Henderson, similar
+to those of Se&ntilde;or Marliani, respecting
+the assumed clandestine ingress of
+British cotton goods into Spain from
+the Italian states:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now the official customhouse returns
+of most of the Italian states are
+lying before us&mdash;the returns of the
+Governments themselves&mdash;but unfortunately
+none of them come down
+later than 1839, so that it is impossible,
+however desirable, to carry out
+fully the comparison for 1840. Not
+that it is of any signification for more
+than uniformity, because, on referring
+to years antecedent to 1839, the relation
+between imports of cottons and
+re-exports, with the places from which
+imported and to which re-exports took
+place, is not sensibly disturbed. The
+returns for the whole of Sardinia are
+not possessed later than 1838, but
+those for Genoa, its chief port, are
+for 1839, and nearly the whole imports
+into Sardinia, as well as exports,
+are effected at Genoa. Thus of the
+total imports of cotton goods into
+Sardinia in 1838, to the value of
+about L.843,000, the amount into
+Genoa alone was L.823,000. That
+year was one of excessive imports
+and 1839 one of equal depression, but
+this can only bear upon the facts of the
+case so far as proportionate quantities.</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>In 1839, total imports of cottons into Genoa&mdash;value</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.494,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Of which from England</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">313,680</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Total re-exports</td>
+ <td>&nbsp; </td>
+ <td align="right">475,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Of which to Tuscany</td>
+ <td align="right">L.131,760</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Naples and Sicily</td>
+ <td align="right">110,800</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Austria</td>
+ <td align="right">61,080</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Parma and Placentia</td>
+ <td align="right">40,840</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Sardinia Island</td>
+ <td align="right">28,320</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Switzerland</td>
+ <td align="right">22,240</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Roman States</td>
+ <td align="right">14,880</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>GIBRALTAR</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">31,440</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>The total value of cottons introduced
+into the Roman states is stated for
+1839 at L.108,640, of which the whole
+imported from France, Sardinia, and
+Tuscany&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center" class="blkquot">
+ <tr>
+ <td>1839.</td>
+ <td>Total imports of cotton and hempen manufactures classed together into Tuscany (Leghorn)</td>
+ <td align="right">L.440,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Of woollens</td>
+ <td align="right">117,200</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>&quot;The total imports of woollen, cotton,
+and hempen goods together, in
+the same year, were to the amount of
+L.155,000.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of the imports and exports of
+Naples, unfortunately, no accounts
+are possessed; but the imports of
+cottons into the island of Sicily for
+1839 were only to the extent of
+L.26,000, of which to the value of
+L.8,000 only from England. In
+1838 the total imports of cottons were
+for L.170,720, but no re-exportation
+from the island. The whole of the
+inconsiderable exports of cottons from
+Malta are made to Turkey, Greece,
+the Barbary States, Egypt, and the
+Ionian Isles, according to the returns
+of 1839.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From these facts and figures, derived
+from official documents, of the
+existence of which it is probable
+Se&ntilde;or Marliani was not aware, it will
+be observed at once how extremely
+light and fallacious are the grounds
+on which he jumps to conclusions.
+What more preposterous than the
+vague assumption founded on data
+little better then guess-work, that <i>one-fourth</i>
+of the whole exports of British
+cottons to Italy and the Italian islands,
+say L.500,000 out of L.2,000,000,
+go to Spain, when, in point of fact,
+not one-tenth of the amount does, or
+can find its way there&mdash;or could, under
+any conceivable circumstances
+short of an absolute famine crop of
+fabrics in France and England.
+Neither prices nor commercial profits
+could support the extra charges of a
+longer voyage out, landing charges,
+transhipment and return voyage to
+the coasts of Spain. It has been
+shown that in the year 1840, not the
+shipment of a single yard of cottons
+took place from Genoa, the only port
+admitting of the probability of such
+an operation.</p>
+
+<p>Not less preposterous is the allegation,
+that three-fourths of the whole
+exports of British cottons to Portugal
+are destined for, and introduced into
+Spain by contraband. Assuming that
+Spain, with thirteen and a half millions
+of people, consumes, in the whole, cotton
+goods to the value of</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center" class="blkquot">
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.2,200,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Why should not Portugal, with more than
+three and a half millions of inhabitants,
+that is more than one-fourth the population
+of Spain, consume also more than one-fourth
+the value of cotton goods, or say only</td>
+ <td align="right">550,000?</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Brazil, a <i>ci-devant</i> colony of
+Portugal, and with a Portuguese population,
+as may be said, of 5,400,000, consumed
+British cotton fabrics to the value, in
+1840, of</td>
+ <td align="right">1,525,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+<td>So, also, why should not Italy and the
+Italian islands, with twenty-two millions
+of people, be able to consume as much
+cotton values as Spain with 13&frac12; millions;
+or say only the whole amount really exported
+there from this country of</td>
+ <td align="right">2,005,000?</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>It is necessary for the interests of
+truth, for the interests also of both
+countries, that the popular mind, the
+mind of the public men of Spain also,
+should be disabused in respect of
+two important errors. The first is,
+that an enormous balance of trade
+against Spain, that is, of British
+exports, licit and illicit too, compared
+with imports from Spain&mdash;results annually
+in favour of this country, from
+the present state of our commercial
+exchanges with her. The second is,
+the greatly exaggerated notion of the
+transcendant amount of the illicit
+trade carried on with Spain in British
+commodities, cottons more especially.
+In correction of the latter misconception,
+we have shown that the
+amount of British cotton introduced
+by contraband cannot exceed, <i>nor
+equal</i>,</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center" class="blkquot">
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.780,640</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Instead, as asserted by Se&ntilde;or Marliani, of</td>
+ <td align="right">1,683,268</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>And, in correction of the first error
+relative to the balance of trade, we have
+established the feet by calculations of
+approximate fidelity&mdash;for exactitude is out
+of the question and unattainable with the
+materials to be worked up&mdash;that an excess
+of values, that is, of exports, results to
+Spain upon such balance as against imports,
+licit and illicit, to the extent per annum of</td>
+ <td align="right">550,000</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>It is therefore Great Britain, and
+not Spain, which is entitled to demand
+that this adverse balance be redressed,
+and which would stand justified in
+retaliating the restrictions and prohibitions
+on Spanish products, with
+which, so unjustly, Spain now visits
+those of Great Britain. Far from us
+be the advocacy of a policy so harsh&mdash;we
+will add, so unwise; but at least
+let our disinterested friendship and
+moderation be appreciated, and provoke,
+in reason meet, their appropriate
+consideration.</p>
+
+<p>The more formidable, because far
+more extensive and facile abuses, arising
+out of the unparalleled contraband
+traffic of which Spain is, and long has
+been, the theatre, and the attempted
+repression of which requires the constant
+employment of entire armies of
+regular troops, are elsewhere to be
+found in action and guarded against;
+they concern a neighbour nearer than
+Great Britain. According to an official
+report made to his Government
+by Don Mateo Durou, the active and
+intelligent consul for Spain at Bordeaux,
+and the materials for which
+were extracted from the customhouse
+returns of France, the trade betwixt
+France and Spain is thus stated, but
+necessarily abridged:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">Francs.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>1840.&mdash;Total exports from France into Spain,</td>
+ <td align="right">104,679,141</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>1840.&mdash;Total imports into France from Spain,</td>
+ <td align="right">42,684,761</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Deficit against Spain,</td>
+ <td align="right">61,994,380</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>France, therefore, exported nearly
+two and a half times as much as she
+imported from Spain; a result greatly
+the reverse of that established in
+the trade of Spain with Great Britain.
+In these exports from France,
+cotton manufactures figure for a total
+of</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">34,251,068</td>
+ <td align="center">fr.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Or, in sterling,</td>
+ <td align="right">L.1,427,000</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Of which smuggled in by the land or Pyrennean frontier,</td>
+ <td align="right">32,537,992</td>
+ <td align="center">fr.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>By sea, only</td>
+ <td align="right">1,713,076</td>
+ <td align="center">...</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Linen yarns, entered for</td>
+ <td align="right">15,534,391</td>
+ <td align="center">...</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Silks, for</td>
+ <td align="right">8,953,423</td>
+ <td align="center">...</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Woollens, for</td>
+ <td align="right">8,919,760</td>
+ <td align="center">...</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>Among these imports from France,
+various other prohibited articles are
+enumerated besides cottons. As here
+exhibited, the illicit introduction of
+cotton goods from France into Spain
+is almost double in amount that of
+British cottons. The fact may be accounted
+for from the closer proximity
+of France, the superior facilities and
+economy of land transit, the establishment
+of stores of goods in Bayonne,
+Bordeaux, &amp;c., from which the
+Spanish dealers may be supplied in
+any quantity and assortment to order,
+however small; whilst from Great
+Britain heavy cargoes only can be
+dispatched, and from Gibraltar quantities
+in bulk could alone repay the
+greater risk of the smuggler by sea.</p>
+
+<p>Se&ntilde;or Durou adds the following
+brief reflections upon this <i>expos&eacute;</i> of the
+French contraband trade. &quot;Let the
+manufactures of Catalonia be protected;
+but there is no need to make all
+Spain tributary to one province, when
+it cannot satisfy the necessities of the
+others, neither in the quantity, the
+quality, nor the cost of its fabrics.
+What would result from a protecting
+duty? Why, that contraband trade
+would be stopped, and the premiums
+paid by the assurance companies established
+in Bayonne, Oleron, and
+Perpignan, would enter into the Exchequer
+of the State.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The active measures decreed by the
+Spanish Government in July and October
+1841, supported by cordons of
+troops at the foot of the Pyrenees,
+have, indeed, very materially interfered
+with and checked the progress
+of this contraband trade. In consequence
+of ancient compact, the
+Basque, that is frontier provinces of
+Spain, enjoyed, among other exclusive
+privileges, that of being exempt
+from Government customhouses, or
+customs' regulations. For this privilege,
+a certain inconsiderable subsidy
+was periodically voted for the service
+of the State. Regent Espartero resolutely
+suspended first, and then abrogated,
+this branch of the <i>fueros</i>. He
+carried the line of the customhouses
+from the Ebro, where they were comparatively
+useless and scarcely possible
+to guard, to the very foot and passes
+of the Pyrenees. The advantageous
+effect of these vigorous proceedings was
+not long to wait for, and it may be found
+developed in the Report to the Chamber
+of Deputies in Paris, before referred
+to; in which M. Ch&eacute;garay, the
+<i>rapporteur</i> on the part of the complaining
+petitioners of Bayonne, Bordeaux,
+&amp;c., after stating that the
+general exports of France to Spain in</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>1839</td>
+ <td>represented the aggregate sum of</td>
+ <td align="right">83,000,000 francs,</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>1840</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ <td align="right">104,000,000 francs,</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>1841</td>
+ <td align="center">&quot;</td>
+ <td align="right">101,000,000 francs,</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>proceeds to say, that the general returns
+for 1842 were not yet (April 11)
+made up, but that &quot;<i>M. le directeur-g&eacute;n&eacute;ral
+des douanes nous a declar&eacute; que
+la diminution avait &eacute;t&eacute; enorme</i>.&quot; But
+although the general returns could
+not be given, those specially referring
+to the single customhouse of Bayonne
+had been obtained, and they
+amply confirmed the assertion of the
+enormous diminution. The export
+of cottons, woollens, silks, and linens,
+from that port to Spain, which in</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>1840</td>
+ <td>amounted in value to</td>
+ <td align="right">15,800,000 francs,</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>1841</td>
+ <td align="right">also</td>
+ <td align="right">15,800,000 francs,</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>1842</td>
+ <td align="right">had fallen to</td>
+ <td align="right">5,700,000 francs.</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>A fall, really tremendous, of nearly
+two-thirds.</p>
+
+<p>M. Ch&eacute;garay, unfortunately, can
+find no other grievance to complain of
+but the too strict enforcement of the
+Spanish custom laws, by which French
+and Spanish contrabandists are harassed
+and damaged&mdash;can suggest no
+other remedy than the renewal of the
+&quot;family compact&quot; of the Bourbons&mdash;no
+hopes for the revival of smuggling
+prosperity from the perpetuation of
+the French reciprocity system of trade
+all on one side, but in the restoration
+of the commercial privileges so long
+enjoyed exclusively by French subjects
+and shipping, but now broken
+or breaking down under the hammering
+blows of Espartero&mdash;nor discover
+any prospect of relief until the Spanish
+customhouse lines are transferred
+to their old quarters on the
+other side of the Ebro, and the <i>fueros</i>
+of the Biscaiano provinces, which, by
+ancient treaty, he claims to be under
+the guarantee of France, re-established
+in all their pristine plenitude.</p>
+
+<p>It is surely time for the intelligence,
+if not the good sense, of France to do
+justice by these day-dreams. The
+tutelage of Spain has escaped from the
+Bourbons of Paris, and the ward of
+full majority will not be allowed, cannot
+be, if willing, to return or remain
+under the trammels of an interested
+guardian, with family pretensions to
+the property in default of heirs direct.
+France, above all countries,
+has the least right to remonstrate
+against the reign of prohibitions and
+restrictions, being herself the classic
+land of both. Let her commence
+rather the work of reform at home,
+and render tardy justice to Spain,
+which she has drained so long, and
+redress to Great Britain, against
+whose more friendly commercial code
+she is constantly warring by differential
+preferences of duties in favour
+of the same commodities produced
+in other countries, which consume
+less of what she abounds in, and
+have less the means of consumption.
+Beyond all, let her cordially join this
+country in urging upon the Spanish
+Government, known to be nowise
+averse to the urgency of a wise revision
+and an enlightened modification of
+the obsolete principles of an absurd
+and impracticable policy both fiscal
+and commercial&mdash;a policy which beggars
+the treasury, whilst utterly failing
+to protect native industry, and
+demoralizes at the same time that it
+impoverishes the people. We are
+not of the number of those who would
+abandon the assertion of a principle
+<i>quoad</i> another country, the wisdom
+and expediency of which we have advocated,
+and are still prepared to advocate,
+in its regulated application to
+our own, from the sordid motive of
+benefiting British manufactures to
+the ruin of those of Spain. Rather,
+we say to the government of Spain,
+let a fair protection be the rule, restrictions
+the exceptions, prohibition
+the obsolete outcast, of your fiscal
+and commercial policy. We import
+into this country, the chief and most
+valuable products of Spain, those
+which compose the elements and a
+very considerable proportion of her
+wealth and industry, are either untaxed,
+or taxed little more than nominally.
+We may still afford, with proper
+encouragement and return in
+kind, to abate duties on such Spanish
+products as are taxed chiefly
+because coming into competition with
+those of our own colonial possessions,
+and on those highly taxed as luxuries,
+for revenue; and this we can do,
+and are prepared to do, although
+Spain is so enormously indebted to us
+already on the balance of commercial
+exchanges.</p>
+
+<p>This revision of her fiscal system,
+and reconstruction, on fair and reciprocal
+conditions, of her commercial
+code, are questions of far deeper import&mdash;and
+they are of vital import&mdash;to
+Spain than to this empire. Look at
+the following statement of her gigantic
+debt, upon which, beyond some
+three or four hundred thousand pounds
+annually, for the present, on the capitalized
+<i>coupons</i> of over-due interest
+accruing on the conversion and consolidation
+operation of 1834, the
+Toreno abomination, not one <i>sueldo</i>
+of interest is now paying, has been
+paid for years, or can be paid for
+years to come, and then only as industry
+furnishes the means by extended
+trade, and more abundant customhouse
+revenues, resulting from an improved
+tariff.</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td align="center" colspan=5><i>Statement of the Spanish Debt at commencement of 1842</i>:&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>Internal&mdash;</td>
+ <td>Liquidated, that is verified,</td>
+ <td align="right">L.50,130,565</td>
+ <td align="center" colspan=2>Without interest.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Not liquidated</td>
+ <td align="right">9,364,228</td>
+ <td align="center" colspan=2>with 5 per cent in paper.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Not consolidated,</td>
+ <td align="right">2,609,832</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Bearing 5 per cent,</td>
+ <td align="right">15,242,593</td>
+ <td align="center">Interest,</td>
+ <td align="right">L.762,128</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Do. 3 do.</td>
+ <td align="right">5,842,632</td>
+ <td align="center">&mdash;</td>
+ <td align="right">233,705</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.83,189,850</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.995,833</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>External</td>
+ <td>Loan of 1834, and the conversion of old debt,</td>
+ <td align="right">L.33,985,939</td>
+ <td align="center">5&nbsp;per&nbsp;cent,</td>
+ <td align="right">&nbsp;L.1,699,296</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Balance of inscription to the public treasury of France,</td>
+ <td align="right">2,782,681</td>
+ <td align="center">&mdash;</td>
+ <td align="right">160,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Inscriptions in payment of English claims,</td>
+ <td align="right">600,000</td>
+ <td align="center">&mdash;</td>
+ <td align="right">30,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Ditto for American claims,</td>
+ <td align="right">120,000</td>
+ <td align="center">&mdash;</td>
+ <td align="right">6,000</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.37,488,620</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">L.1,895,296</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Capitalized <i>coupons</i>, treasury bonds, &amp;c., amount not stated, but some millions more</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="center">3 per cent,</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Deferred,</td>
+ <td align="right">5,944,584</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Ditto,</td>
+ <td align="right">4,444,040</td>
+ <td align="center" colspan=2>Calculated at 100 reals</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Passive,</td>
+ <td align="right">10,542,582</td>
+ <td align="center" colspan=2>per L. sterling.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">20,931,206</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td colspan=2>Grand total, exclusive of capitalization</td>
+ <td align="right">L.141,669,676</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>The latest account of Spanish
+finance, that for 1842 before referred
+to, exhibits an almost equally hopeless
+prospect of annual deficit, as between
+revenue and expenditure; 1st,
+the actual receipts of revenue being
+stated at</p>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">879,193,475</td>
+ <td>reals</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>The expenditure,&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">1,541,639,879</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td align="right">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td align="center">Deficit,</td>
+ <td align="right">662,446,404</td>
+ <td>&nbsp;</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<table summary="" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>That is, with a revenue sterling of</td>
+ <td align="right">L.8,791,934
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>A deficiency besides uncovered, of</td>
+ <td align="right">6,624,464</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>Assuming the amount of the contraband
+traffic in Spain at six millions
+sterling per annum, instead of the
+ten millions estimated, we think
+most erroneously, by Se&ntilde;or Marliani,
+the result of an average duty on the
+amount of 25 per cent, would produce
+to the treasury L.1,500,000 per
+annum; and more in proportion as
+the traffic, when legitimated, should
+naturally extend, as the trade would
+be sure to extend, between two countries
+like Great Britain and Spain,
+alone capable of exchanging millions
+with each other for every million now
+operated. The L.1,500,000 thus
+gained would almost suffice to meet
+the annual interest on the L.34,000,000
+loan conversion of 1834, still singularly
+classed in stock exchange parlance
+as &quot;active stock.&quot; As for the
+remaining mass of domestic and foreign
+debt, there can be no hope for
+its gradual extinction but by the sale
+of national domains, in payment for
+which the titles of debt of all classes
+may be, as some now are, receivable
+in payment. As upwards of two
+thousand millions of reals of debt
+are said to be thus already extinguished,
+and the national domains yet
+remaining for disposal are valued
+at nearly the same sum, say
+L.20,000,000, it is clear that the final
+extinction of the debt is a hopeless
+prospect, although a very large reduction
+might be accomplished by
+that enhanced value of these domains
+which can only flow from increase of
+population and the rapid progression
+of industrial prosperity.</p>
+
+<p>All Spain, excepting the confining
+provinces in the side of France, and
+especially the provinces where are the
+great commercial ports, such as
+Cadiz, Malaga,<a name="footnotetag27" id="footnotetag27"></a><a href="#footnote27"><sup>27</sup></a> Corunna, &amp;c., have
+laid before the Cortes and Government
+the most energetic memorials
+and remonstrances against the prohibition
+system of tariffs in force, and
+ask why they, who, in favour of their
+own industry and products, never
+asked for prohibitions, are to be sacrificed
+to Catalonia and Biscay? The
+Spanish Government and the most
+distinguished public men are well
+known to be favourable, to be anxiously
+meditating, an enlightened
+change of system, and negotiations
+are progressing prosperously, or
+would progress, but for France.
+When will France learn to imitate
+the generous policy which announced
+to her on the conclusion of peace with
+China&mdash;We have stipulated no conditions
+for ourselves from which we
+desire to exclude you or other nations?</p>
+
+<p>We could have desired, for the pleasure
+and profit of the public, to extend
+our notice of, and extracts from,
+the excellent work of Se&ntilde;or Marliani,
+so often referred to, but our limits
+forbid. To show, however, the state
+and progress of the cotton manufacture
+in Catalonia, how little it gains
+by prohibitions, and how much it is
+prejudiced by the contraband trade,
+we beg attention to the following extract:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;Since the year 1769, when the cotton
+manufacture commenced in Catalonia, the
+trade enjoyed a complete monopoly, not
+only in Spain, but also in her colonies.
+To this protection were added the fostering
+and united efforts of private individuals.
+In 1780, a society for the encouragement
+of the cotton manufacture was
+established in Barcelona. Well, what has
+been the result? Let us take the unerring
+test of figures for our guide. Let us
+take the medium importation of raw cotton
+from 1834 to 1840 inclusive, (although
+the latter year presents an inadmissible
+augmentation,) and we shall have an average
+amount of 9,909,261 lbs. of raw cotton.
+This quantity is little more than half that
+imported by the English in the year 1784.
+The sixteen millions of pounds imported
+that year by the English are less than the
+third part imported by the same nation in
+1790, which amounted in all to thirty-one
+millions; it is only the sixth part of
+that imported in 1800, when it rose to
+56,010,732 lbs.; it is less than the seventh
+part of the British importations in 1810,
+which amounted to seventy-two millions of
+pounds; it is less than the fifteenth part
+of the cotton imported into the same
+country in 1820, when the sum amounted
+to 150,672,655 pounds; it is the twenty-sixth
+part of the British importation in 1830,
+which was that year 263,961,452 lbs.;
+and lastly, the present annual importation
+into Catalonia is about the sixty-sixth part
+of that into Great Britain for the year
+1840, when the latter amounted to
+592,965,504 lbs. of raw cotton. Though
+the comparative difference of progress is
+not so great with France, still it shows the
+slow progress of the Catalonian manufactures
+in a striking degree. The quantity
+now imported of raw cotton into Spain is
+about the half of that imported into France
+from 1803 to 1807; a fourth part compared
+with French importations of that
+material from 1807 to 1820; seventh-and-a-half
+with respect to those of 1830;
+and a twenty-seventh part of the quantity
+introduced into France in 1840.&quot;</p></div>
+
+<p>And we conclude with the following
+example, one among several which
+Se&ntilde;or Marliani gives, of the daring
+and open manner in which the operations
+of the <i>contrabandistas</i> are conducted,
+and of the scandalous participation
+of authorities and people&mdash;incontestable
+evidences of a wide-spread
+depravation of moral sentiments.</p>
+
+<div class="blkquot"><p>&quot;Don Juan Prim, inspector of preventive
+service, gave information to the Government
+and revenue board in Madrid,
+on the 22d of November 1841, that having
+attempted to make a seizure of contraband
+goods in the town of Estepona, in
+the province of Malaga, where he was
+aware a large quantity of smuggled goods
+existed, he entered the town with a force
+of carabineers and troops of the line. On
+entering, he ordered the suspected dep&ocirc;t
+of goods to be surrounded, and gave notice
+to the second alcalde of the town to
+attend to assist him in the search. In
+some time the second alcalde presented
+himself, and at the instance of M. Prim
+dispersed some groups of the inhabitants
+who had assumed a hostile attitude. In a
+few minutes after, and just as some shots
+were fired, the first alcalde of the town
+appeared, and stated that the whole population
+was in a state of complete excitement,
+and that he could not answer for the
+consequences; whereupon he resigned his
+authority. While this was passing, about
+200 men, well armed, took up a position
+upon a neighbouring eminence, and assumed
+a hostile attitude. At the same
+time a carabineer, severely wounded from
+the discharge of a blunderbuss, was
+brought up, so that there was nothing left
+for M. Prim but to withdraw his force
+immediately out of the town, leaving the
+smugglers and their goods to themselves,
+since neither the alcaldes nor national
+guards of the town, though demanded in
+the name of the law, the regent, and the
+nation, would aid M. Prim's force against
+them!&quot;</p></div>
+
+<p>All that consummate statesmanship
+can do, will be done, doubtless, by the
+present Government of Great Britain,
+to carry out and complete the economical
+system on which they have so
+courageously thrown themselves <i>en
+avant</i>, by the negotiation and completion
+of commercial treaties on every
+side, and by the consequent mitigation
+or extinction of hostile tariffs.
+Without this indispensable complement
+of their own tariff reform, and
+low prices consequent, he must be
+a bold man who can reflect upon
+the consequences without dismay.
+Those consequences can benefit no one
+class, and must involve in ruin every
+class in the country, excepting the
+manufacturing mammons of the Anti-corn-law
+league, who, Saturn-like, devour
+their own kindred, and salute
+every fall of prices as an apology for
+grinding down wages and raising profits.
+It may be well, too, for sanguine
+young statesmen like Mr Gladstone
+to turn to the DEBT, and cast
+about how interest is to be forthcoming
+with falling prices, falling
+rents, falling profits, (the exception
+above apart,) excise in a rapid state
+of decay, and customs' revenue a
+blank!</p>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<a name="bw329-footnotes"></a>
+<h2>FOOTNOTES.</h2>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote1"></a><b>Footnote 1</b>: <a href="#footnotetag1">(return)</a><div class="note"><p>
+This was not the only case of compensation made out against this travelling
+companion. &quot;Milord,&quot; says our tourist, &quot;in his quality of bulldog, was so great
+a destroyer of cats, that we judged it wise to take some precautions against overcharges
+in this particular. Therefore, on our departure from Genoa, in which
+town Milord had commenced his practices upon the feline race of Italy, we enquired
+the price of a full-grown, well-conditioned cat, and it was agreed on all
+hands that a cat of the ordinary species&mdash;grey, white, and tortoiseshell&mdash;was worth
+two pauls&mdash;(learned cats, Angora cats, cats with two heads or three tails, are not,
+of course, included in this tariff.) Paying down this sum for two several Genoese
+cats which had been just strangled by our friend, we demanded a legal receipt, and
+we added successively other receipts of the same kind, so that this document
+became at length an indisputable authority for the price of cats throughout all
+Italy. As often as Milord committed a new assassination, and the attempt was
+made to extort from us more than two pauls as the price of blood, we drew this
+document from our pocket, and proved beyond a cavil that two pauls was what we
+were accustomed to pay on such occasions, and obstinate indeed must have been
+the man or woman who did not yield to such a weight of precedent.&quot;</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote2"></a><b>Footnote 2</b>: <a href="#footnotetag2">(return)</a><div class="note"><p>
+It is amusing to contrast the <i>artistic</i> manner in which our author makes all his
+statements, with the style of a guide-book, speaking on the manufactures and industry
+of Florence. It is from Richard's <i>Italy</i> we quote. Mark the exquisite
+medley of humdrum, matter-of-fact details, jotted down as if by some unconscious
+piece of mechanism:&mdash;&quot;Florence <i>manufactures</i> excellent silks, woollen cloths,
+elegant carriages, bronze articles, earthenware, straw hats, perfumes, essences, <i>and
+candied fruits</i>; also, all kinds of turnery and inlaid work, piano-fortes, philosophical
+and mathematical instruments, &amp;c. The dyes used at this city are much admired,
+particularly the black, <i>and its sausages are famous throughout all Italy</i>.&quot;</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote3"></a><b>Footnote 3</b>: <a href="#footnotetag3">(return)</a><div class="note"><p> The extreme misery of the paupers in Sicily, who form, he tells us, a tenth
+part of the population, quite haunts the imagination of M. Dumas. He recurs to
+it several times. At one place he witnesses the distribution, at the door of a convent,
+of soup to these poor wretches, and gives a terrible description of the famine-stricken
+group. &quot;All these creatures,&quot; he continues, &quot;had eaten nothing
+since yesterday evening. They had come there to receive their porringer of soup,
+as they had come to-day, as they would come to-morrow. This was all their
+nourishment for twenty-four hours, unless some of them might obtain a few <i>grani</i>
+from their fellow-citizens, or the compassion of strangers; but this is very rare,
+as the Syracusans are familiarized with the spectacle, and few strangers visit Syracuse.
+When the distributor of this blessed soup appeared, there were unheard-of
+cries, and each one rushed forward with his wooden bowl in his hand. Only there
+were some too feeble to exclaim, or to run, and who dragged themselves forward,
+groaning, upon their hands and knees. There was in the midst of all, a child
+clothed, not in anything that could be called a shirt, but a kind of spider's web,
+with a thousand holes, who had no wooden bowl, and who wept with hunger. It
+stretched out its poor little meagre hands, and joined them together, to supply as
+well as it could, by this natural receptacle, the absent bowl. The cook poured in
+a spoonful of the soup. The soup was boiling, and burned the child's hand. It
+uttered a cry of pain, and was compelled to open its fingers, and the soup fell upon
+the pavement. The child threw itself on all fours, and began to eat in the manner
+of a dog.&quot;&mdash;Vol. iii. p. 58.
+</p><p>
+And in another place he says, &quot;Alas, this cry of hunger! it is the eternal cry
+of Sicily; I have heard nothing else for three months. There are miserable
+wretches, whose hunger has never been appeased, from the day when, lying in their
+cradle, they began to draw the milk from their exhausted mothers, to the last hour
+when, stretched on their bed of death, they have expired endeavouring to swallow
+the sacred host which the priest had laid upon their lips. Horrible to think of!
+there are human beings to whom, to have eaten once sufficiently, would be a remembrance
+for all their lives to come.&quot;&mdash;Vol. iv. p. 108.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote4"></a><b>Footnote 4</b>: <a href="#footnotetag4">(return)</a><div class="note"><p> <i>Lar</i> is the Tartar plural of all substantives.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote5"></a><b>Footnote 5</b>: <a href="#footnotetag5">(return)</a><div class="note"><p> Beaters for the game.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote6"></a><b>Footnote 6</b>: <a href="#footnotetag6">(return)</a><div class="note"><p> Rather less than an English yard.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote7"></a><b>Footnote 7</b>: <a href="#footnotetag7">(return)</a><div class="note"><p> The Tartars have an invariable custom, of taking off some part of their dress
+and giving it to the bearer of good news.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote8"></a><b>Footnote 8</b>: <a href="#footnotetag8">(return)</a><div class="note"><p> Coin.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote9"></a><b>Footnote 9</b>: <a href="#footnotetag9">(return)</a><div class="note"><p> Shakh&eacute;eds, traders of the sect of Souni. Yakho&uacute;nt the senior mo&oacute;llah.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote10"></a><b>Footnote 10</b>: <a href="#footnotetag10">(return)</a><div class="note"><p>
+Of the two opening lines we subjoin the original&mdash;to the vivacity and spirit of
+which it is, perhaps, impossible to do justice in translation:&mdash;</p>
+<p>
+&quot;Ihr&mdash;Ihr dort aussen in der Welt,<br>
+Die Nasen einges pannt!&quot;<br>
+</p><p>
+Eberhard, Count of Wurtemberg, reigned from 1344 to 1392. Schiller was a
+Swabian, and this poem seems a patriotic effusion to exalt one of the heroes of his
+country, of whose fame (to judge by the lines we have just quoted) the rest of the
+Germans might be less reverentially aware.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote11"></a><b>Footnote 11</b>: <a href="#footnotetag11">(return)</a><div class="note"><p>
+Schiller lived to reverse, in the third period of his intellectual career, many of the
+opinions expressed in the first. The sentiment conveyed in these lines on Rousseau is
+natural enough to the author of &quot;The Robbers,&quot; but certainly not to the poet of &quot;Wallenstein&quot;
+and the &quot;Lay of the Bell.&quot; We confess we doubt the maturity of any mind that
+can find either a saint or a martyr in Jean Jacques.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote12"></a><b>Footnote 12</b>: <a href="#footnotetag12">(return)</a><div class="note"><p> &quot;Und Empfindung soll mein Richtschwert seyn.&quot;<br><br>
+A line of great vigour in the original, but which, if literally translated, would seem
+extravagant in English.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote13"></a><b>Footnote 13</b>: <a href="#footnotetag13">(return)</a><div class="note"><p> Joseph, in the original.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote14"></a><b>Footnote 14</b>: <a href="#footnotetag14">(return)</a><div class="note"><p><br>
+&quot;The World was sad, the garden was a wild,<br>
+And Man, the Hermit, sigh'd&mdash;till Woman smiled.&quot;<br>
+CAMPBELL.<br>
+</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote15"></a><b>Footnote 15</b>: <a href="#footnotetag15">(return)</a><div class="note"><p>
+Literally, &quot;the eye beams its sun-splendour,&quot; or, &quot;beams like a sun.&quot; For the
+construction that the Translator has put upon the original (which is extremely obscure)
+in the preceding lines of the stanza, he is indebted to Mr Carlyle. The general
+meaning of the Poet is, that Love rules all things in the inanimate or animate
+creation; that, even in the moral world, opposite emotions or principles meet and
+embrace each other. The idea is pushed into an extravagance natural to the youth,
+and redeemed by the passion, of the Author. But the connecting links are so slender,
+nay, so frequently omitted, in the original, that a certain degree of paraphrase in many
+of the stanzas is absolutely necessary to supply them, and render the general sense and
+spirit of the poem intelligible to the English reader.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote16"></a><b>Footnote 16</b>: <a href="#footnotetag16">(return)</a><div class="note"><p> Mr Shaw's researches include some curious physiological and other details, for
+an exposition of which our pages are not appropriate. But we shall here give the
+titles of his former papers. &quot;An account of some Experiments and Observations
+on the Parr, and on the Ova of the Salmon, proving the Parr to be the Young of
+the Salmon.&quot;&mdash;<i>Edinburgh New Phil. Journ</i>. vol. xxi. p. 99. &quot;Experiments on
+the Development and Growth of the Fry of the Salmon, from the Exclusion of the
+Ovum to the Age of Six Months.&quot;&mdash;<i>Ibid</i>. vol. xxiv. p. 165. &quot;Account of Experimental
+Observations on the Development and Growth of Salmon Fry, from the
+Exclusion of the Ova to the Age of Two Years.&quot;&mdash;<i>Transactions of the Royal Society
+of Edinburgh</i>, vol. xiv. part ii. (1840.) The reader will find an abstract of
+these discoveries in the No. of this Magazine for April 1840.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote17"></a><b>Footnote 17</b>: <a href="#footnotetag17">(return)</a><div class="note"><p>
+Mr Young has, however, likewise repeated and confirmed Mr Shaw's earlier
+experiments regarding the slow growth of salmon fry in fresh water, and the conversion
+of parr into smolts. We may add, that Sir William Jardine, a distinguished
+Ichthyologist and experienced angler, has also corroborated Mr Shaw's observations.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote18"></a><b>Footnote 18</b>: <a href="#footnotetag18">(return)</a><div class="note"><p> These two specimens are now preserved in the Museum of the Royal Society
+of Edinburgh.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote19"></a><b>Footnote 19</b>: <a href="#footnotetag19">(return)</a><div class="note"><p> The existence in the rivers during spring, of grilse which have spawned, and
+which weigh only three or four pounds, is itself a conclusive proof of this retardation
+of growth in fresh water. These fish had <i>run</i>, as anglers say&mdash;that is, had entered
+the rivers about midsummer of the preceding year&mdash;and yet had made no progress.
+Had they remained in the sea till autumn, their size on entering the fresh waters
+would have been much greater; or had they spawned early in winter, and descended
+speedily to the sea, they might have returned again to the river in spring <i>as small
+salmon</i>, while their more sluggish brethren of the same age were still in the
+streams under the form of grilse. All their growth, then, seems to take place during
+their sojourn in the sea, usually from eight to twelve weeks. The length of
+time spent in the salt waters, by grilse and salmon which have spawned, corresponds
+nearly to the time during which smolts remain in these waters; the former
+two returning as <i>clean</i> salmon, the last-named making their first appearance in our
+rivers as grilse.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote20"></a><b>Footnote 20</b>: <a href="#footnotetag20">(return)</a><div class="note"><p>
+These two specimens, with their wire marks <i>in situ</i>, may now be seen in the
+Museum of the Royal Society of Edinburgh.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote21"></a><b>Footnote 21</b>: <a href="#footnotetag21">(return)</a><div class="note"><p>
+Mr Shaw, for example, states the following various periods as those which he
+found to elapse between the deposition of the ova and the hatching of the fry&mdash;90,
+101, 108, and 131 days. In the last instance, the average temperature of the
+river for eight weeks, had not exceeded 33&deg;.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote22"></a><b>Footnote 22</b>: <a href="#footnotetag22">(return)</a><div class="note"><p>
+If we are rightly informed, salmon were not in the habit of spawning in the
+rivulets which run into Loch Shin, till under the direction of Lord Francis Egerton
+some full-grown fish were carried there previous to the breeding season.
+These spawned; and their produce, as was to be expected, after descending to the
+sea, returned in due course, and, making their way through the loch, ascended their
+native tributaries.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote23"></a><b>Footnote 23</b>: <a href="#footnotetag23">(return)</a><div class="note"><p>
+A complete series of specimens, from the day of hatching till about the middle
+of the sixth year, has been deposited by Mr Shaw in the Museum of the Royal
+Society of Edinburgh.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote24"></a><b>Footnote 24</b>: <a href="#footnotetag24">(return)</a><div class="note"><p>
+Mr Shaw informs us, moreover, that if those individuals which have assumed
+the silvery lustre be forcibly detained for a month or two in fresh water, they will
+resume the coloured coating which they formerly bore. The captive females, he
+adds, manifested symptoms of being in a breeding state by the beginning of the
+autumn of their third year. They were, in truth, at this time as old as <i>herlings</i>,
+though not of corresponding size, owing to the entire absence of marine agency.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote25"></a><b>Footnote 25</b>: <a href="#footnotetag25">(return)</a><div class="note"><p>
+Another interesting result may be noticed in connexion with this Compensation
+Pond. The original streamlet, like most others, was naturally stocked with small
+&quot;burn-trout,&quot; which never exceeded a few ounces in weight, as their ultimate term
+of growth. But, in consequence of the formation above referred to, and the great
+increase of their productive feeding-ground, and tranquil places for repose and play,
+these tiny creatures have, in some instances, attained to an enormous size. We
+lately examined one which weighed six pounds. It was not a sea-trout, but a
+common fresh-water one&mdash;<i>Salmo fario</i>. This strongly exemplifies the conformable
+nature of fishes; that is, their power of adaptation to a change of external circumstances.
+It is as if a small Shetland pony, by being turned into a clover field,
+could be expanded into the gigantic dimensions of a brewer's horse.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote26"></a><b>Footnote 26</b>: <a href="#footnotetag26">(return)</a><div class="note"><p> The specimen is preserved in the Museum of the Royal Society of Edinburgh.</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote27"></a><b>Footnote 27</b>: <a href="#footnotetag27">(return)</a><div class="note"><p> See <i>Exposicion de que dirige &aacute; las Cortes et Ayuntamiento Constitucional de
+Malaga</i>, from which the following are extracts:&mdash;&quot;El ayuntamiento no puede menos
+de indicar, que entre los infinitos renglones fabriles aclimatados ya en Espana, las
+sedas de Valencia, los panos de muchas provincias, los hilados de Galicia, las blondas
+de Cataluna, las bayetas de Antequera, los hierros de Vizcaya y los elaborados por maquinaria
+en las ferrer&iacute;as &aacute; un lado y otro de esta ciudad, han adelantado, prosperan y
+compiten con los efectos extranjeros mas acreditados. &iquest;Y han solicitado acaso una
+prohibicion? N&oacute; jamas: un derecho protector, s&iacute;; &aacute; su sombra se criaron, con la
+competencia se formaron y llegaron &aacute; su robustez.... Ingleterra
+figura en la exportacion por el mayor valor sin admitir comparacion alguna. Su
+gobierno piensa en reducir muy considerablemente todos los renglones de su arancil;
+pero se ha espresado con reserva para negar &oacute; conceder, si lo estima conveniente, esta
+reduccion &aacute; las naciones que no correspondan &aacute; los beneficios que les ofrece; ninguno
+puede esperar que le favorezcan sin compensacion.&quot;</p></div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<center><i>Edinburgh; Printed by Ballantyne and Hughes Paul's Work.</i></center>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12263 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>